Mursi Boy, Decoration, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, February, 2010

Color film is always with me but old habits usually prevent me from using it. Every once in a while a roll is loaded and a few images are made. Even less frequently it is scanned and reviewed, usually put away for future reference.

This past week a few were scanned and the above image is an example from my visit to Ethiopia in 2010. People warned us about these villages and gave us the impression that photography in my style would be nearly impossible. We heard stories of villagers crowding the cars, at times rocking the vehicles until their demands were met.

The exact opposite was experienced. Sure they wanted to sell their goods in order to make a living. Then again show me one group on this planet doing otherwise. These good people made their own baskets, their own ornaments. They even had a sense of humor about it. The women would ask for my hand in order to show me an ornament. Then they would walk away, too far for me to give it back, asking for payment in return. They would however always take their product back, with the exception of the four purchased by me.

I admire this population greatly, for their lives are extremely difficult. The surroundings even for a few days were most difficult on us. Tourists were amongst them daily, yet they ignored the glitter and glamor that came along with the SUVs and the digital screens.

This young boy carried an ornament rather than the AK-47 that the adults seemed to enjoy. He stood on the bumper of our truck in order to allow us the sky as the background. His portrait was only made in color in light of the white beads present. He allowed me a few exposures and went along his way.

I hope to return and photograph the Mursi Community of the Lower Omo Valley in the near future.

For more of my work, please visit the newly designed website below, courtesy of Patrick Luu.

Halim Ina Photography

Bedouin Girl, Behind a Service Station, Bekaa Valley, Lebanon

Last weekend I began printing negatives from the distant past, from my early work.

Unlike my newer work, this image includes her surroundings and uses available, indirect light.

She is a young girl living behind a service station in Lebanon's Bekaa Valley. This is her first and only portrait, since her family has moved on without a trace. Like many of the families living as migrants in this area, they have moved from Syria in search of work and continue to move for the same reason.

I remember her well, and the circumstance behind this portrait. The refection in her eyes confirms the place of our collaboration, and the people standing around watching this image being made. On this day I visit a tent to inquire about a group of children. The adult tells me that the children are working in the fields but that there are more children nearby.

We talk for a little bit and get noticed by these very children. They run across an uneven, dry field and make their way to us. They have heard of me and know that I am the photographer. The girl above is one of them. All of the children appear as her, with disheveled hair and skin abused by the sun. When my hands run across their hair, the feeling is of coarse wool.

We talk for a little bit and the adults consent to the photography. The front of a storage facility is perfect, with indirect light coming from behind me to the right. The children line up and wait for their photography. I am alone but the children are very cooperative. She stands in front of me and behind her is a window without glass. In the distance and to her right is a window of the same size.

It is the late afternoon and the sun is behind her. A handful of negatives are exposed, and she moves to the side to allow others to be photographed. This is the last time my eyes have witnessed her face, her incredibly poignant features. Next year I will return to the same place and ask about her, hoping to make her portrait once again.

halim.ina@gmail.com
Halim Ina Photography

Child, Student, Banjara Community, Rajasthan, India, November 25, 2008, Roll 1, Exposure 12

So many of their children look like any children from around the world.

Here is a child that belongs to the Banjara Community, can be from anywhere and from any family. Earlier this day, we stop by the side of the road for some oranges and apples. The people from the foundation tell us to stay inside the car because outside of the car we will garnish attention.

We decide to ask for forgiveness and walk with them to get the fruits. As we do so we of course witness their warning up and close. A few children gather around us and start their usual hustle, all in good jest and with genuine intention, for they are only trying to support their families.

One of them looks at me differently, recognizes me from last year. At that point the book of images from last year is shown to them and they begin to laugh, realizing that some of their friends are in that book. A few strangers take note and wonder what this outsider has in common with these young street children. We ask them if they are going to be in school later in the afternoon and they all give us the affirmative in the sweet Indian style with their heads.

We bid them farewell and go looking for a specific child. A few of the children a little further up the road recognize her in my book and point us in the correct direction. We locate the young girl's village and arrange to return the next day for some photography. Afterwards we return to that street corner and locate the children from earlier in the day.

Their encampment is kind to us, allowing our photography amidst the chaos. Voices are everywhere and people are running behind the subject and in front. The people from the foundation are certainly more nervous than me since they are the ones speaking directly to the people. Forgiveness can be granted to me since I am a stranger and lack further understanding.

Nevertheless all goes well and a chair is even located for the children to stand upon for their portraits, giving their faces access to the sun in the middle of the crowd. One such face is the child above, from the Banjara Community but resembling the face of children everywhere.

We will return and photograph this community, for they are on my mind day and night.

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Bedouin Woman, Syrian, Bekaa Valley, Lebanon, Summer, 2009

Every once in a while an older woman steps up for her portrait.

Most of the time my work deals with young girls for they are accessible in this culture. On this afternoon she walks right up to me in plain sight of everyone and makes everything that much easier.

Her row of tents was the first row photographed by me almost thirteen years ago in Lebanon. Most of the inhabitants still remember a young Lebanese man with a strange accent coming by with his camera, even my name. On this afternoon a dozen or so years later we make new images of children unborn at the time of my first visit.

This time around, digital images are also made and distributed a day later. This has proven to be a very positive step in the evolution of the work, enabling the people to see their portraits right away and in color, something almost everyone wants rather than black and white.

While we are photographing the children the woman sit down and watch. A few words are said to them in order to perhaps solicit their portraits, none of them being effective. Then for some reason she gets up, at first being somewhat shy perhaps due to the culture and perhaps due to her appearance. Her reaction draws giggles from the smaller girls but she nonetheless stands with the most beautiful, humorous and dignified manner.

The session goes on much smoother after her appearance and the younger girls feel less inhibited as a result. Did she want her portrait made or was she doing so for the sake of the younger girls? Only she knows the answer to this question.

Last weekend I began printing negatives from the distant past, from my early work. Unlike my newer work, this image includes her surroundings and uses available, indirect light. She is a young girl living behind a service station in Lebanon's Bekaa Valley. This is her first and only portrait, since her family has moved on without a trace. Like many of the families living as migrants in this area, they have moved from Syria in search of work and continue to move for the same reason. I remember her well, and the circumstance behind this portrait.

The refection in her eyes confirms the place of our collaboration, and the people standing around watching this image being made. On this day I visit a tent to inquire about a group of children. The adult tells me that the children are working in the fields but that there are more children nearby. We talk for a little bit and get noticed by these very children. They run across an uneven, dry field and make their way to us. They have heard of me and know that I am the photographer.

The girl above is one of them. All of the children appear as her, with disheveled hair and skin abused by the sun. When my hands run across their hair, the feeling is of coarse wool. We talk for a little bit and the adults consent to the photography. The front of a storage facility is perfect, with indirect light coming from behind me to the right. The children line up and wait for their photography. I am alone but the children are very cooperative.

She stands in front of me and behind her is a window without glass. In the distance and to her right is a window of the same size. It is the late afternoon and the sun is behind her. A handful of negatives are exposed, and she moves to the side to allow others to be photographed. This is the last time my eyes have witnessed her face, her incredibly poignant features. Next year I will return to the same place and ask about her, hoping to make her portrait once again

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Mursi Man, Walking Stick, Mago National Park, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, March, 2010

So we finally decide to get out of the truck and complete this village. We have been waiting since the morning session under the hot sun, under the shade of some short trees on the side of the road. The men of the village have been waiting beside us as well. They have been playing a game, talking and just enjoying each other's company.

So we find a spot about 50 meters from the shade of the trees. We go to call the first man and the mood is different. It seems that they have changed their minds about the negotiated price. In the morning, we photographed the children and the women for an agreed-upon price. The men now feel that their portraits are worth more. The young man above is in charge of the negotiations on behalf of the men.

 

The men with me begin talking once again. The conversation goes back and forth with nothing accomplished. The men grow impatient, complicated by the fact that a few of them have begun drinking the local alcoholic beverage. This worries the guides because of stories they have been told before our arrival.

As the sun begins to drop, it becomes more apparent to me that we need to move forward. With my guide's permission, I ask to speak directly to the older men, with the help of the young man above. My english is translated to Amharic by my guide and then to Mursi by the young man above, under the Surmic family of languages.

The point is simple; we agreed on a price in the morning, photographed the girls and women and now would like to do the same for the men. We feel that an agreement has value and we also feel that all are equal in our eyes. Therefore to value one person's photograph over another's portrait is inappropriate.

After hearing this, the men agree to be photographed for the same price as the women and the photography begins, to everyone's amazement. While surely naive of me, this experience reaffirms my trust in the general human experience, in a universal understanding.

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Mursi Man, AK-47, Mago National Park, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, March, 2010

So many men walking around with guns. Everywhere we visit, such is the scene. Even more surreal is their reaction to my direction. This man for instance poses as directed: turn to the left, turn to the right, point the gun at the camera. He responds calmly, like a man being photographed with his prized possession, all the while with his finger behind the trigger. It is such moments that give my connection to strangers even more significance. 

Over and over again, people that have never met me show me a respect and dignity perhaps only earned over a lifetime between the closest of friends. This confluence never ceases to surprise me. One such convergence happens tonight, when a sweet soul from the West Coast named Jessica decides to send a note. After seeing an image from Ethiopia, she shares her thoughts with me as naturally as she might with a dear friend. She reaffirms my trust in the everday and in the power of the image: 'It seems that the people closest to you know you the least until they look and try to understand what it is you love to do.' 

This happens on location in Ethiopia and happens between two people meeting through the photographic medium. By seeing the portraits, Jessica sees the subjects as well as the photographer. By reading their stories, she remembers her past. In her words: 'I visited Togo, Africa for two weeks around a year ago to help build a school in a small village and since then my idea of beauty has extended past American ideals. In addition to the way that you evoke emotion throughout your portfolio, a large part of why I am so inspired by your work is because I have heard the stories of people from many places and you capture their stories in your art.' When requesting her permission to include the above words, Jessica responds with trust, with kindness. 

The people in my images will one day be proud to know her, to have their portraits next to one of her in my portfolio. As for the man above, it seems that the expense of the bullets keeps him and his friends from using the gun very much. This helps put me at ease as he points the gun at the camera. The Mursi Community, as noted in an earlier post, shows us only respect and kindness, coupled with a sense of humor as seen above in the man's smile.

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Dasanech Girl, In Another Life, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, March, 2010

There are times when it seems people have met me before. Such is this little girl. On this hot day, so many others struggle with the camera. She on the other hand stands like she has known me in another life, in another world. These are the times when my confidence in humanity is strengthened. These times occur in distant lands and in neighborhoods minutes away. Just last night, such happens again. 

When a dear sister from my past takes a chance and shows herself again in my life, even after more than a dozen years, she shows me the meaning of humanity. When she displays her trust in the midst of madness, she offers to me a glimpse of what is possible. Whether the time involved is a dozen years or a few minutes, the feeling is the same: this person knows me. The portrait above is of a girl that has known me for only a few minutes. Her ease with the camera however mirrors the ease that occurs last night despite twelve years of separation; they both feel natural. 

 People ask: 'why photography?' 

The image above answers this question for me. Here is a medium that allows me to connect with someone from another land, from another time and from another culture. The experience is almost out-of-body. The photographer stands behind the camera, the subject a few meters away. People are all over the place, noises threaten the calm. In the middle of this and from a distance, a 'tunnel' forms between the photographer and the subject, simulating the eye of a storm. Everything outside seems like chaos. However, inside this space, calm reigns and the subject speaks vividly to the photographer without hesitation. In the middle of chaos, twelve years disappear last night.

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Mursi Man, Mago National Park, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, March, 2010

He sits under the tree, silent the entire time, while others negotiate on his behalf. The confidence this man displays is without parallel in my experience. He and his tribe are the reason men are photographed more so on this trip. He belongs to the Mursi Community, lives in the Mago National Park of Ethiopia's Lower Omo Valley. As noted in a previous post, his community's population is estimated at 10,000. They are pastoralists in nature but prefer a sedentary life. 

Most from this community are illiterate and speak the language of their tribe. While some have converted to Christianity, most practice Animism, a belief that spirits exist in animals, plants and inanimate objects. At an early age, the girls from this tribe begin the process of wearing lip plates, as well as plates in the ears. Contrary to some myths, the reason for such is esthetic, for the purposes of beauty and to attract a future husband. At the same time as the lip expansion, the lower front teeth are removed, thus enhancing the beauty sought after by the women in this community. 

While others step forth quickly to have their portraits made in exchange for a humble living, this man prefers to watch. Only when called on by me several times does he, with a smile, come forth for his portrait. He has seen hundreds of tourists and has seen this before, but humors me with his time. Direction he does without, preferring to change poses every other negative or so. His expressions are those of an old friend, one that knows me and has met me before. My hope is that we meet again, very soon.

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Young Hamer Woman, Early in the Morning, Lower Omo Valley, Ethiopia, February, 2010

On the same morning that we photography the Tsemay Tribe, a few Hamer woman walk by and decide to mingle with us. This young woman is one of them. While men stand by to her right, she starts off nervous and then explodes into a most vibrant smile. The Hamer People are mostly Sunni Muslim, mixed with Animism. While there are over 45,000 in their community, this represents only 1/10 of 1% of the Ethiopian population. They are pastoralists and value cattle highly, including the use of cattle for many important ceremonies. 

According to most sources, only a handful of individuals from this community have ever completed secondary education, with very few that can read and write. This results in extremely low representation and an almost invisible presence. Where this tribe and others like them find a presence is in the tourism industry. While many Ethiopians turn to industrial societies, the Hamer and others like them live as their parents and grandparents before them. 

Their traditional lifestyles are highlighted by the tourism industry of Ethiopia, allowing them and other tribes from the Lower Omo Valley to earn a certain living from the tourists that flock to this part of Ethiopia. As they collect food and materials from the market, they barely give notice to the tourists all around them. When tourists approach them for a picture however, their familiarity with tourism enables them to negotiate a price for the exchange. In addition to other means of making a living, they quench the thirst of the tourists for imagery by allowing them a picture in exchange for an agreed upon payment.

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