"We are just people helping other people. We are not heroes or martyrs." Raquel González, coordinator of Doctors Without Borders in Spain, thus summarizes the reality of humanitarian personnel, who increasingly work in more dangerous contexts and with increasingly bare hands. This August 19, as the world commemorates World Humanitarian Assistance Day, the day arrives marked by a context of growing violence against humanitarian personnel while resources are running out.

On Monday, July 20, the creation of the Catalan Centre for Business and Human Rights (CCDH) was made official, a demand from Catalan civil society that, after many negotiations with different governments and failed attempts, has finally seen the light. At a time when the West seems to question the rules of global governance (supposedly) inspired by its values and driven by its supremacy, the emergence of such an institution in Catalonia is no small matter.Without a shadow of a doubt, it is the small artifact that can be given to a small country, recalling the song. Its value lies, once again, in proposing an anti-cyclical image, totally opposed to the spirit of times when the jurists of the International Criminal Court receive sanctions from the world's leading power for trying to make international law something more than a vademecum of forgotten laws. If Josep Pla were alive, it would be a truly typical local absurdity, effectively characteristic of the Gallic village into which we are turning, at a state and European level, in recent times, regarding (very) minimally coherent foreign policy.

Gorka Espiau is the director of the Agirre Lehendakaria Center (EHU), an advisor to the European Commission, and the scientific director of Work4Progress, a program of the International Area of the "la Caixa" Foundation, which contributes to the creation of quality jobs in rural areas of Colombia, India, Mozambique, and Peru for women and young people. This PhD in social sciences advocates a different way of addressing development challenges. Real innovation, local participation, and collaborative learning are key, and he rejects the implementation of isolated pilot programs in favor of "interconnected innovation experiences."

While Serbian troops were besieging the population of Sarajevo from the surrounding hills, its Mayor, Muhamed Kreševljaković He escaped underground. The Bosnian army had dug a tunnel under the Bosnian capital's airport to transport goods and allow the population to pass through, avoiding the Serbian soldiers' faces. It was through this tunnel that the mayor managed to escape and take off on a plane bound for Barcelona. It was July 1992.

Creative Joseph Fares' studio, Hazelight Studios, has established itself as a pioneer in cooperative video games, since its founding in 2014 it has only focused on perfecting this type of experiences. Its debut In Way Out featured a cinematic split-screen adventure that required two players to cooperate in order to get the brothers to escape from prison. The Swedish developer's second title explored the formula and took it to the next level. It Takes Two It won the award for best game of the year in 2021, among many other awards, something that not only gave value to the work done, but also brought more visibility to the project and allowed the collaborative experience to reach even more players. Its reach is so great that it has even captivated new players attracted by the idea of playing in company, or old players who have not had a controller in their hands for a long time.

Albert Viñas is a 62-year-old from Sabadell who has been working as an emergency coordinator for Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF) for two decades. The compilation of the 48 missions in which he has participated is a compendium of the worst humanitarian disasters that the world has suffered since the turn of the century: famine in Kenya, war in Angola, massacres in Darfur, an earthquake in Haiti, the latest jihadist offensive in Mozambique or the current crisis in the Ethiopian region of Tigray. Next week he will travel to South Sudan. He could explain a thousand terrible situations that he has lived in his own skin, but instead would rather tell a positive story: "In 2003, in the Democratic Republic of Congo, there was a little girl who had lost her speech after her parents were killed. I was going from here to there and one day when I was taking her there she said to me muzungu, which means white man, and that's how she started speaking again.