In Ethiopia:
I told John Mckay about my bad experience with the Kenyan orphanage. He didn’t seem surprised as the way of things in Africa doesn’t necessarily make a bit of sense to a westerner. He said that I could help out another orphanage though. The Youth Campus was affiliated with an orphanage on the outskirts of town. He took me there one afternoon where I photographed the children and facilities for them.
I am so very excited about this time that we live in. I was able to produce a high-quality CD of images for them, and take a duplicate back to the States to be used for further fundraising for them. We have so many possibilities to help people out.
Anne Frank: No one has ever become poor by giving.
Showing posts with label orphanage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orphanage. Show all posts
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Back in Awassa
After the project for the Zany Umbrella Circus, I was supposed to stop in Kenya for a week to do some free documentary work for a tiny orphanage. Things got really shakey with the organization. For months I had worked on communications and given project plans to the board members. On the day I was to leave for Africa I got a bizarre email from the orphanage that nearly accused me of trying to set up some kind of smear expose on them. This was of course after I had spent MY OWN MONEY to arrange the extra transportation. I was a little freaked out, and extremely insulted. It could have been a really powerful gift for their fundraising efforts. I looked back at my documentation to try to figure out what had made a 180 degree turn in their attitude. I could not find anything. I had done my part correctly. I tried to communicate with them while I was in Ethiopia. Time was running out. I changed my flight at the last moment to stay an extra week in Awassa. I felt angry at the agency who had irresponsibly squandered my goodwill. But I had straightened things out. Mostly, I felt relieved.
In my week in Awassa I had the opportunity to make some media that orgs there really used. I shot for a grass roots NGO for women with HIV/AIDS called "Tilla" which means "umbrella". They were putting together a book of biographies. They needed portraits of the women. I was honored to help out. I shot for an afternoon. My set up was pretty simple. In the first location things were easy, rainy season there produces soft, beautiful light—nothing else needed. The second location was a bit harder. I threw a tarp (I carry it in my pack for emergency shelter) over a door for a backdrop. Then the fundraising director from Tilla assisted by managing a small reflector that I used as a fill light. I was nervous before the shoot. Ethiopian women generally keep to themselves for a lot of good reasons. I was concerned that they wouldn’t open up for the portraits. I was happily wrong. These women are brave. They have fiercely faced disease, poverty and ostracism. They have looked at their own mortality and told death, “Not today.” So a geek with a camera was no problem for them. I wanted to share their images with them by showing them the review screen on the back of the camera. Each of them said “konjo” which means “beautiful.” I thought about how few American women react with that kind of acceptance and kindness toward their own image. I learned something that day.
In my week in Awassa I had the opportunity to make some media that orgs there really used. I shot for a grass roots NGO for women with HIV/AIDS called "Tilla" which means "umbrella". They were putting together a book of biographies. They needed portraits of the women. I was honored to help out. I shot for an afternoon. My set up was pretty simple. In the first location things were easy, rainy season there produces soft, beautiful light—nothing else needed. The second location was a bit harder. I threw a tarp (I carry it in my pack for emergency shelter) over a door for a backdrop. Then the fundraising director from Tilla assisted by managing a small reflector that I used as a fill light. I was nervous before the shoot. Ethiopian women generally keep to themselves for a lot of good reasons. I was concerned that they wouldn’t open up for the portraits. I was happily wrong. These women are brave. They have fiercely faced disease, poverty and ostracism. They have looked at their own mortality and told death, “Not today.” So a geek with a camera was no problem for them. I wanted to share their images with them by showing them the review screen on the back of the camera. Each of them said “konjo” which means “beautiful.” I thought about how few American women react with that kind of acceptance and kindness toward their own image. I learned something that day.
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