Daughter of Migrants, Bekaa Valley, Lebanon, Summer of 2009

For this evening a portrait of yet another Syrian living in Lebanon is shared. She sat for her photograph in the same spot as the boy from yesterday's post, in front of the sheikh's home and with a plant to her side. She was both shy and confident, an incredible combination.

They live just outside of Zahle, in the valley below. The women and girls pick vegetables all day long, while the men and boys work in the factories, restaurants and service stations nearby. These families do what they can, since there is so little economically for them back home in Syria. 

Their homes lack running water and toilets, and have the most basic of electricity taken from the main lines. The children need to walk to a field to go tot he bathroom, and bath in the open. There sleep without insulation, as temperatures dip to freezing in the winter months. There is little protection from the rain, and various insects and animals have free access to them as they sleep.

I admire these children deeply, for they endure a life most cannot imagine… yet have never judged me nor my work. They accept both with open arms, and have faith in the meaning behind the images.

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Note: This image was made with a Canon G10.

Daughter of Sharecropper + Home, Guanabacoa, Cuba, Summer of 2015

Her portrait was made with a humble phone camera, as my trusted state-of-the-art camera took a turn for the worst with a few weeks left on the island. We stumbled upon her as we were leaving the neighborhood one morning, after photographing two ballerinas in the field in front of her home.

She was sitting to the right on a small bench watching us photograph the ballerinas the entire time. Even though we saw her for a few seconds only, there was something about her expression that made me want to come back immediately, after we dropped off the dancers. When we did return, she knew exactly why before we had a chance to explain.

This young girl is new to my work, and my sincerest hope is that she will allow us to photograph her next year. While she was more than eager during the first session, the following collaborations were more complicated and presented a reason to have a conversation.

We were confused, Alejandro and I. She spoke very little, but communicated much to us through her expressions. She was living with her father and relatives in this small home hundreds of miles away from her hometown. They lived as sharecroppers, waking up well before sunrise to get the produce ready for sale at the market.

Theirs is a difficult life, far from the glamour of 1950s cars and wind-beaten facades lining the capital. My friends would remind me over and over again that such families knew nothing of how a certain segment of this island lived, those in charge of the programs by which these families barely existed.

So when our sessions with this young girl took a turn towards the complicated, we decided that we needed to have a talk. She was that important to us, and deep down inside we knew that this was very important to her. We talked with the families one afternoon, presented our case and asked the families to think about it until our next visit a day or so later.

When we did return, her reaction was so sincere. She still spoke very little, but her expressions gave her away. She was truly happy with our interest, and wanted to continue with the collaboration. Her father treated us with extreme kindness, and had such patience with us. The reality was that this was his daughter, yet he gave us a chance to speak with her directly and to include her in the decision-making process.

I very much look forward to next summer already, and hope that she will be there. Otherwise it'll be time for a road trip, and gladly so!