Crossing Continents

Teatr doc was founded 12 years ago by playwrights who couldn't find a venue willing to stage their documentary-style plays that often challenge the status quo. In December the theatre was raided and forced to shut its doors but it quickly reopened in new premises and is still cocking a snook at the authorities. "Doc" as it is known to those who frequent it, has been recognised internationally as one of Russia's most prolific, innovative, and socially engaged theatre companies. For Crossing Continents Lucy Ash attends the opening night in the theatre's new home, and asks its actors, directors and its audience what the theatre says about life in Russia today.

Are excessive traffic fines and debtors' jails fuelling community tensions in suburban Missouri? Claire Bolderson reports on a network of ninety separate cities in St Louis County, most of which have their own courts and police forces. Critics say that their size makes them financially unviable and allege that some of them boost their incomes by fining their own citizens and locking them up when they can't pay. This edition of Crossing Continents goes out and about in St Louis County to meet the people who say they are victims of a system which sees arrest warrants issued for relatively minor misdemeanours. Many of the victims are poor and black. The programme also takes us into the courts, and out onto the freeways with some of the County's police, who say they are upholding the law and promoting road safety.The US government is not so sure. One of the towns in question is Ferguson where riots erupted after a white police officer shot a young black man dead last summer. In a recent report on the riots, the Department of Justice concluded that the Ferguson police had been stopping people for no good reason. It said they were putting revenue before public safety. Claire Bolderson investigates how widespread the practice is and considers the impact on relations between citizens and the authorities that govern them.Produced by Michael Gallagher.

In northern Tanzania there is a tradition of FGM - female genital mutilation. The 'cutting season' lasts for six weeks. Afterwards, the adolescent victims are often expected to marry. But girls in Serengeti District are saying 'no' to FGM. And dozens of them have fled to a new safe house in the town of Mugumu to escape this bloody, life-threatening rite of passage. For Crossing Continents, Linda Pressly travels to Mugumu to meet the girls - and the woman who has given them refuge, Rhobi Samwelly. She listens in as Rhobi engages in delicate and often emotional negotiations with parents intent on mutilating their daughters. Will the girls ever feel safe enough to return home?

It has been hidden away in a dusty corner of an abandoned theatre, unplayed and almost forgotten - a magnificent instrument allowed to moulder away in a territory whose Islamist rulers banned public performances of music. But now Gaza's only grand piano is getting a new lease of life. A small Brussels-based charity is restoring it to its former glory and at the same time is working to bring music back into schools. With Hamas control steadily weakening the charity has begun a unique project to train teachers in Gaza to re-introduce music into the curriculum - not through music classes but through subjects such as mathematics and geography. It is helping disturbed children in this war torn territory to concentrate - and it is exciting teachers. Tim Whewell gets exclusive access to the story of Gaza and its grand piano.

The cleaners whose protest has captured the imagination of those opposed to the harsh austerity programme in Greece. Mostly middle-aged or nearing retirement, they have refused to go quietly. The women have kept up a day and night vigil outside the Finance Ministry in Athens, taken the government to court and resisted attempts by the riot police to remove them by force. They've challenged representatives from the International Monetary Fund and raised their red rubber gloves in a clenched fist at the European Parliament. Some say they represent the plight of many women and the poorly paid, others that they are being manipulated by the left. Maria Margaronis hears the women's stories and asks what makes them so determined.Producer: Mark Savage.

In Japan, manga and anime are huge cultural industries. These comics and cartoons are read and watched by young and old, men and women, geeks and office workers. Their fans stretch around the world and their cultural appeal has been used by the government to market 'Cool Japan'.Manga and anime can be about almost anything, and some can be confronting - especially those featuring young children in sexually explicit scenarios. The UK, Canada and Australia have all banned these sorts of virtual images, placing them in the same legal category as real images of child abuse.Last year, Japan became the last OECD country to outlaw the possession of real child abuse images, but they decided not to ban manga and anime. To many outsiders and some Japanese, this seems baffling - another example of 'weird Japan', and a sign the country still has a long way to go to taking child protection seriously.James Fletcher travels to Tokyo to find out why the Japanese decided not to ban. Is this manga just fodder for paedophiles, and is Japan dragging its feet on protecting children? Or is Japan resisting moral panic and standing up for freedom of thought and expression?

In Comuna 13, one of Medellin's poorest and most violent districts, there is a giant rubbish dump - la escombrera. Local people say it's where the truth lies buried. They're talking about the disappeared - dozens of victims of Colombia's bloody, civil conflict concealed beneath the mountains of junk.La escombrera stands in contrast to the 'Medellin Miracle' - the city's transformation over two decades from the darkest days of Pablo Escobar and his drug trafficking cartel, to its triumph in being voted the world's most innovative.For Crossing Continents, Linda Pressly reports on the move to begin digging for human remains.

Each year, the US government does a strange and slightly surprising thing: it gives away 50,000 green cards (permanent resident visas) to people chosen at random via a lottery. But becoming an American is not easy, even if you do win a golden ticket. For Crossing Continents, Leo Hornak follows the story of Abdi Nor, a young Somali lottery winner living in one of the toughest slums in Kenya, as he prepares for his final US embassy interview and the chance of a new life in the States.But as Abdi's interview date approaches, the obstacles to him achieving his American dream appear to grow ever greater.

Russian support for the separatists in eastern Ukraine doesn't all come directly from the Kremlin. The rebellion there may be stoked, and armed, by Vladimir Putin - but it's also become a personal cause for young Russian volunteers recruited by a variety of nationalist and far-right groups. Many say they're motivated by their Orthodox faith - and their dream to restore Novorossiya, or New Russia, the territory which encompassed eastern Ukraine under the Tsarist Empire. Passionate members of re-enactment societies, they've spent their weekends reliving Russia's historic battles. But now they're fighting - and sometimes dying - for real, in what they see as a test of their own, and Russia's, "manhood". Tim Whewell has gained rare access to the weird, shadowy world of Russia's radical nationalists. He travels with volunteers from the grand old imperial capital, St Petersburg, to the chaotic, muddy battlefields of eastern Ukraine - and reveals a movement whose leaders have become increasingly influential in Putin's Russia - but is now in danger of becoming an embarrassment to the Kremlin. Producer: Dina Newman.

Fans of the Washington Redskins, one of the most popular American football teams in the country, are fiercely proud of their dark crimson Indian head logo. They say it is a sign of respect and that the name 'Redskins' goes back 80 years. But to many Native Americans, the indigenous people who lived in the United States before the arrival of European settlers, the word Redskins is hateful. For them it's a painful reminder of how their people have been oppressed and neglected even to this very day.Mike Wendling travels from North Dakota, to Minneapolis to Washington DC to explore the controversy which, thanks to social media and a growing number of Native American campaigners, has now become a burning national issue.On the Turtle Mountain reservation, Mike meets Jordan Brien, a young hip-hop artist with a troubled past who is determined to get the name of the team changed. He says his people shouldn't be reduced to mascots, and he urges young Native Americans to take a stand against racism. His cause has got the support of some in the US Congress and even President Obama has said that if the name is offensive to a sizeable group of people, the owners should "think about changing it". But for diehard fans like Chap Petersen, who has been going to Redskins games for four decades, such a change is unthinkable. And the club's owner Daniel Snyder has vowed never to discard the name whatever the press, pollsters and politicians say.