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A lawsuit in the Netherlands is taking an unusual approach to climate change. So unusual, in fact, that experts around the world are watching it closely, wondering whether it might spark a major shift in environmentalists' efforts to limit carbon emissions.

If that happens, it won't be the first time that Marjam Minnesma has turned the status quo on its head.

She's founder and director of a Dutch environmental organization called Urgenda, an abbreviation for "urgent agenda."

"Sometimes you have to do something, and then everybody's like, 'Oh, that's quite easy. Why don't we do that?' and then people follow," she says at her office in Amsterdam.

For example, a few years ago the Dutch government told her that solar panels weren't feasible. Not enough people wanted them, she was told, and the price was far too high.

So Minnesma started taking orders herself. She had a massive contact list from an earlier project, establishing the Dutch equivalent of Earth Day. People from that list started to sign up to buy solar panels, paying her 20 percent in advance. Once she had enough orders for 50,000 panels, she flew to China to negotiate with the manufacturers.

They offered her a good bulk rate and said they would lower the price even more if she paid up front.

"So we emailed all those people and said, 'Yeah, we did it, and it's going to happen! And if you want a little bit more discount, pay us two weeks before you get the solar panels.' And everyone did. So I had 20 million Euros in a totally new bank account even before any solar panel arrived," she remembers, laughing.

Her crazy-sounding plan has now become common. Today there are "hundreds of collective buying initiatives," she says, "So we really set a new standard."

Minnesma could have remained in the bulk solar panel purchasing business. Or she could have changed her name and escaped with the 20 million Euros to a distant tropical island.

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Much of the Netherlands is below sea level, including Amsterdam. Urgenda argues that any rise in the sea level could have a huge impact on the country. Ari Shapiro/NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Ari Shapiro/NPR

Much of the Netherlands is below sea level, including Amsterdam. Urgenda argues that any rise in the sea level could have a huge impact on the country.

Ari Shapiro/NPR

But she's more interested in successfully doing something that's never been done before, and then moving on. Today, she's working on another climate change moon shot.

Her Urgenda colleague Dennis van Berkel takes me to the outskirts of Amsterdam to explain. We walk up a small hill. On the far side, there's a wide stretch of water where ducks and geese paddle in the shallows. Behind us, sheep graze in broad green fields.

"The thing about the Netherlands is that, as you can see here, the water on our left side is higher than the land on our right side," says van Berkel. "We're about three meters below sea level here. What this place reminds me of is that for the Netherlands really in the long run, climate change is almost an existential issue."

Van Berkel notes that the Dutch monarchy is 500 years old. Given threatened sea level rise, he wonders whether the country will last another 500 years.

The Netherlands is a land of levees and dykes that hold water at bay. The country has a reputation as a progressive place. But on carbon emissions, it's not progressive at all. Never mind the iconic windmills and bicycles — the Netherlands still relies heavily on coal-fired power plants.

And the country's goals to cut emissions are far less ambitious than its European neighbors.

That's why Urgenda filed a very unusual class action lawsuit. The case argues that the country is failing to protect Dutch citizens. The lawyers are asking a judge to order the government to cut the country's carbon emissions.

Almost 900 people have joined the case, including an event planner named Natasja Vandinberg.

"I'm the mother of an 8-year-old boy and an almost 4-year-old girl," Vandinberg says at a small cafe near her office. "And they are also plaintiffs."

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Dennis van Berkel, an attorney with Urgenda, stands on the outskirts of the city on an earthen berm. The level of the water is higher than the land on the other side of the berm. Ari Shapiro/NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Ari Shapiro/NPR

Dennis van Berkel, an attorney with Urgenda, stands on the outskirts of the city on an earthen berm. The level of the water is higher than the land on the other side of the berm.

Ari Shapiro/NPR

She explains that her children will be more affected by climate change than she will, since they will live longer.

Vandinberg heats her house through solar power, she recycles, and she rides a bicycle. But she believes that individual action is not enough.

"Even if I would do everything correct," she says, "the government buildings, the companies, the way we produce things in this country — I cannot change that by myself. We need the collective."

The Dutch government declined my interview request. But in 2013, Environment Minister Wilma Mansveld told the Dutch newspaper Trouw that she thinks the lawsuit is "a good thing," since it may force the government to take politically difficult steps. That is not the official government position, and Mansveld has made few public comments about the case since then.

The suit does have its critics.

"I think you can probably find 900 people to join in frivolous nonsense in any country," says Tim Worstall of the Adam Smith Institute in London.

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The Netherlands' goals on cutting emissions are less ambitious than most of its European neighbors. Ari Shapiro/NPR hide caption

itoggle caption Ari Shapiro/NPR

The Netherlands' goals on cutting emissions are less ambitious than most of its European neighbors.

Ari Shapiro/NPR

Worstall is author of a book called Chasing Rainbows, How the Green Agenda Defeats Its Aims. He argues that it is inappropriate to blame the government for carbon emissions, because "it's the Dutch citizenry who actually use fossil fuels, and so it's the citizenry themselves who are causing the damage."

There's another obvious shortcoming to this lawsuit. The Netherlands is a small country, and if it totally stopped emitting carbon tomorrow, climate change would continue at the same rate.

I ask plaintiff Joos Ockels about this, sitting at her kitchen table in a row house overlooking one of Amsterdam's iconic canals. She's a grandmother, and she shared this home with her husband, the first Dutch astronaut, who died almost a year ago.

Ockels explains that she became an environmentalist through him. Seeing the planet from space, she says, "You want to take care of Earth. And being married to a man like that, it influences you."

Ockels admits that climate change is "a global problem. But I cannot handle a global problem. I can only handle my own. And if we make many, many, many people aware, well perhaps then I hope for a movement."

Urgenda is working to get this approach to catch on, just as the solar panels did. From the beginning, lawyer van Berkel and others translated all of their documents and research from Dutch into English. They posted everything online. It was a huge and expensive effort specifically designed to encourage others to crib from Urgenda's work.

Now lawyers in Belgium have filed a similar lawsuit. Lawyers from Australia and Canada have been in touch with the Dutch advocates. It has even caught the attention of American experts.

"I think the people who are following climate change law are watching this case very carefully around the world," says Michael Gerrard, who directs the climate change law center at Columbia Law School.

"If the Dutch court were to rule against the state in this case," he says, "That would be a very powerful signal that would probably then lead to similar litigation in many other countries."

The court heard arguments at The Hague in mid-April. The judges say they will issue their ruling on June 24.

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climate change

"It was a physical release of emotion for me," she says.

The layered pieces document her father's seven-month fight with sepsis, a life-threatening condition when the body's response to infection causes inflammation that can destroy organs. They also represent her feelings of uncertainty and grief.

We talked with Rodgers, a high school art teacher in Philadelphia, about how she created the artworks. The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

Why did you choose maps to visualize your father's illness and death?

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Strata Of Memories Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers hide caption

itoggle caption Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

Strata Of Memories

Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

I found a book called Geography of Loss by Patti Digh, and that has been my guidebook. A map organizes a place in a certain way and we use them to get us from one point to the next. My maps have become a way to get from a point in my life where I was very much grieving to another point where I came to a resolution with some of it.

In Strata of Memories, gold plays a key role. Why is that?

The gold comes from the idea of using a precious metal to heal. The Japanese have an art called Kintsugi that is over 500 years old. Instead of taking a bowl or mug that has been broken and throwing it out, the pieces are put back together with gold. The gold heals the broken piece of pottery and actually makes it more precious and more valuable.

In The Last Day there are a series of lines that appear to be intentional.

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Last Day Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers hide caption

itoggle caption Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

Last Day

Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

The day he died we spent a lot of time in the waiting room outside the ICU and it was a lot of walking back and forth. I wanted to mimic the physical steps I took as the whole day was unfolding, almost as a way for me to honor that day.

[The red is] symbolic of sepsis and what it did to my dad's body, and watching someone die from sepsis, which was truly devastating.

Is it difficult to look back on these images?

To look at them, not so much. To talk about them and actually think about what was happening at the time, that is definitely difficult. At the same time it feels very healing to me. I don't know any other way to get through what became the most challenging time in my life. I didn't know any other way than to make art about it.

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Rodgers uses abstract shapes of home and movement to evoke her father's journey to living in a hospital in Liminal Space. Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers hide caption

itoggle caption Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

Rodgers uses abstract shapes of home and movement to evoke her father's journey to living in a hospital in Liminal Space.

Courtesy of Jennifer Rodgers

Rodgers has three pieces on display through June 10th at the Henry Gallery at Penn State University, Great Valley Campus.

dying

death and dying

end of life care

Infectious Disease

Visual Arts

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Swayambhunath — also known as the Monkey Temple, for its holy, furry dwellers that swing from the rosewood trees — is one of the oldest and most sacred Buddhist sites in Nepal's Kathmandu Valley, an important pilgrimage destination for Hindus as well as Buddhists. It was also one of the worst damaged by last month's earthquake.

At the site, Nepali police soldiers shovel broken bricks and sand into garbage baskets. They're much more cautious cleaning up here than at many other devastated places: There's a chance they could still find precious, centuries-old statues and other artifacts in the rubble.

Asia

To Restore Its Shattered Treasures, Nepal Has A Secret Weapon

Volunteers stand precariously atop a two-story-high pile of crumbled bricks, scouring it for relics. A temple nearby, part of the site's hilltop complex, has big cracks and looks like it could topple and crush them at any minute.

This is dangerous, important work, says Nepal's undersecretary of the Department of Archaeology, Suresh Shrestha, who's peeled off his dust mask and is taking a break in the shade.

"There are so many artifacts because in Hinduism and Buddhism, there are lots and lots of gods and goddesses," he says.

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Buddhist monks recover a statue of a Buddhist deity from a monastery at Swayambhunath. Niranjan Shrestha/AP hide caption

itoggle caption Niranjan Shrestha/AP

Buddhist monks recover a statue of a Buddhist deity from a monastery at Swayambhunath.

Niranjan Shrestha/AP

Nepal's government says at least 70 ancient, sacred sites in the Kathmandu Valley were severely damaged or destroyed by the earthquake. The area is home to seven UNESCO World Heritage Sites; Swayambhunath is one of them.

With help from the United Nations, every ancient object that's found intact at the site from now on will be inventoried and stored in a secure place to protect from looters. Archaeologists fear that in the chaos following the quake, some artifacts were lost or stolen.

The oldest structure there, a Buddhist monument known as a stupa, dates from the fifth century. "It is intact," says Christian Manhart, UNESCO's country representative for Nepal. "We are lucky."

Manhart says it's difficult to know at this point how much of the Swayambhunath complex can be restored. But, he says, "I'm rather optimistic. We have all these architectural features like sculptures, carved wooden beams, cornerstones, which can be reused for construction."

Despite the damage, the most sacred rituals are continuing — including worship five times a day.

Goats and Soda

Nepal's Medical Worries: Crowded Hospitals, Open Wounds

"We have [a] very big problem, but we do not stop the praying," says Ashok Buddhacharya, a priest who says his family roots at the temple extend back to the fifth century. "Ritual praying is continuing."

Buddhacharya sits on a mat underneath a large, blue tarp. It's where he and his wife and children and other families are cooking and sleeping, since their living quarters here were reduced to rubble.

"These are historical, more than 1,000 years old, the stupas, the metal things, the statues," he says. "We cannot make a repeat, you see."

That is, they can't just rebuild them.

That's why archaeologists feel a sense of urgency, here and at other sites, as they work around the clock to recover what they can.

ancient relics

antiquities

World Heritage

archaeology

Nepal

looting

Earthquake

Carly Fiorina is expected to declare her candidacy for the Republican presidential nomination Monday morning in a video. Fiorina is perhaps best known as the former CEO of Hewlett-Packard, the first woman to lead a Fortune 20 company. She was ousted after a boardroom struggle in 2005.

She served as a surrogate in John McCain's 2008 Presidential campaign, and in 2010 ran for the U.S. Senate from California, losing to Democratic incumbent Barbara Boxer.

Here are five things you may not know or remember about Fiorina:

1) She's a law school dropout

After she got her under graduate degree from Stanford (in medieval history and philosophy), Fiorina's father, a federal appeals court judge, suggested his daughter go to law school. Fiorina did, but said studying law gave her "blinding headaches every day" so she dropped out after a semester. Not to worry, she does have graduate business degrees from Maryland and MIT.

2) She started her career as a Kelly girl

Fiorina says one of her first jobs was with temporary agency Kelly Services whose workers, mostly women, were dubbed "Kelly girls." She also worked secretarial positions while in college, including a stint filing and typing for Hewlett-Packard, the tech company she would eventually lead.

3) She is a cancer survivor

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Carly Fiorina, having just completed breast cancer treatment, announced her run for California Senate in 2009. Damian Dovarganes/AP hide caption

itoggle caption Damian Dovarganes/AP

Carly Fiorina, having just completed breast cancer treatment, announced her run for California Senate in 2009.

Damian Dovarganes/AP

Fiorina was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2009, and underwent a double mastectomy. At campaign appearances, women often come up to her to say they too are cancer survivors. "It's a sisterhood", she says.

4) Her husband was a tow truck driver

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Carly Fiorina, and her husband Frank Fiorina, on election day 2010, when she ran for Senate from California. Paul Sakuma/AP hide caption

itoggle caption Paul Sakuma/AP

Carly Fiorina, and her husband Frank Fiorina, on election day 2010, when she ran for Senate from California.

Paul Sakuma/AP

Much like Fiorina, her husband Frank Fiorina started off small, driving a tow truck for a family-owned body shop. He eventually became an executive at AT&T.

5) She ran one of the most (in)famous campaign ads ever

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rKWlOxhSIKk

In 2010 Fiorina, running for the U.S. Senate, ran an ad that showed a flock of sheep grazing peacefully in a pasture, when suddenly one is shown with scary red eyes. The narrator says Fiorina's opponent, Tom Campbell, was not a true conservative — "a wolf in sheep's clothing." The spot came to be known as the demon sheep ad.

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