A space to lay down the words behind the images. From Asia to Africa to the Americas, the portraits are made, stories are recorded and lives are represented through photography.
Today we arrive at an Alwar slum, our fourth visit since 2006. The school holds classes in an open temple, without such luxuries as chairs or libraries or privacy. The children stand to greet us and then take their place on the floor.
We look around and decide on the steps of the temple as the studio. The equipment is arranged, chairs are placed and a reflector is given to two volunteers to experiment with until the children are ready. Our friends from the States have given us presents for the children, so we arrange a chair to the left for the disbursement of the gifts.
One by one, the children sit on the steps and have their portraits made. There are perhaps sixty people in this small space, forty of them children and the rest adults from the slum as well as people from the foundation. A friend from Thailand named Anna sits down in a chair and finds her rhythm in handing out the gifts.
These gifts were made by the students of Holy Rosary Montessori School located in Cleveland, Ohio. A couple of months ago, after seeing and hearing of the children from Nirvanavan Foundation, the students from Holy Rosary along with their teacher Anna decided to make gifts for every girl associated with the foundation, about 350 girls in all. The students looked at some of my photographs and realized that some of the girls had safety pins attached to either their dresses or bracelets. On their own they came up with the idea of placing beads in safety pins as gifts, along with bracelets and necklaces.
The expressions on the girls' faces in the temple as they collect these safety pins today is proof in itself of the intuition of children from across borders and cultures. One after one, they almost jump off of the steps and run to Anna for their gifts; now my photography has competition and nothing could make me happier. To see their faces as they turn to their right and start walking with a smile gives me a perspective never experienced before, absolutely perfect.
Last year a Humana People to People India School operated in this village. All was calm and we had the cooperation and guidance of the teacher in making exquisite portraits of the girls. We made portraits on the roof of their home and then moved to the field to continue the work, all without a single problem.
We were served lunch on a wonderful day later in the week when the foundation had organized a 'Culture Day' for all of the schools. That lunch was served in the same home and all of us ate together on carpets laid out on the floor.
With these memories in mind I arrive at their village this year, dropped off by the driver and alone. The volunteers from Humana People to People have been left behind at the last village to have their lunch and then head back to the main town. The driver will return in three hours to collect me and my equipment. I am alone and with about a dozen Hindi words to my credit.
In my mind, this is an easy village, one full of friends from last year. While this may be correct, a certain sense of trouble is in the air when the first response from a few people is to tell me to leave. Pretending to lack an understanding of their words, I decide to sit down and wait it out, more so since it's a bit early for photography. With me sitting there, about a dozen boys, older and younger, decided to sit down with me. This is usually trouble since they lack a sense of discipline and respect without an older presence. This proves to be correct. The boys decide to poke at the equipment, demand to see the albums, mock the lack of language and the usual. I am pretty used to all of this but unused to it being all alone.
I decided to do the one thing that usually anesthetizes their need to dominate, make pictures of them. In my experiences with men and boys from around the world, this has worked well. Since most of my work is with women, the men generally feel slighted and ignored, usually for the first time in their lives. Here is a man that places women and girls first in their midst. The trick is to reverse this conception, make portraits of the men and then diffuse the situation.
Since a digital camera is with me this time around, it's even easier to show them their portraits. We begin by making a few for fun, then some men begin walking over for their formal portraits. The one above is made after a few of the younger boys poke fun, as usual, at some older man walking by. By walking over to the man and showing him some respect, his portrait is made in peace.
At this time, a few of the older boys decide to help. This is a turning point since the girls are just waiting for the atmosphere to change. It has for the moment and we collect a chair and head out to the field. The older girls are too startled to come along and this saddens me, since many of them are past subjects. Nonetheless, enough girls come along initially to attract others once the photography begins.
We head to the field and arrange a space. Four helpful boys come along, between the ages of 14 and twenty perhaps. One stands by my equipment, one makes sure the younger boys limit their silliness and two help with the arrangement of the girls. We ask the girls to stand on the chair, one by one, therefore limiting the amount of interference that the younger boys can produce. We work for about one hour before the man of the land comes by to ask us to leave. He is a young man of about twenty and it is unclear to me if he is really the man of the land. Regardless, after a few Hindi words, he allows us to stay for another half an hour, every five minutes needing a plea from me to continue. I know that if we break this session, it will be hard to continue somewhere else. At that time, the taxi driver comes along. He is a great man and helps with the translation.
We decide to walk up to the street and as we are about to pack everything up, I notice a wonderfully yellow wall lit by the sun. We ask permission to continue and are given that permission. We arrange the equipment and continue with the girls. Now there are many, many more. Most of the girls photographed today are younger than twelve and that makes me happy, they are the future of my work in this village.
We end up by making more pictures of the boys and then head back to town. All in all, a very strenuous but successful day.
They tell me that a young Banjara man happens to be working in the Sunset Hotel, a remarkable fact since this tribe has caught my attention from the first day in Rajasthan four years ago. We meet him and he offers to take us to his family's community. We accept and meet in the hotel the next morning, before sunrise to make the long trip.
According to many accounts, the Banjara are typical nomads that wander from place to place in search of a living. In my experience, some of these communities have made homes for themselves on government land and have even acquired ration cards as well as participation in the voting process, both of which many in these communities usually lack.
Their manner of dress has influenced my search for them. Their girls and women wear a combination of a skirt (ghaghra) and a blouse (choli), with the skirt being quite long and reaching to the ankles, which are also usually adorned with anklets. Their jewelry is in much demand inside India and outside as well.
Unlike many other communities, they are quite resistant to photography. They have had multiple experiences with people offering schools, financial assistance and the like. They have always been disappointed when those same people disappear shortly thereafter.
As a matter of fact, during our talk with this small community, we are informed that the president of the foundation 'helping' at the moment is in a local jail, serving time for misusing funds. We talk for some time, show them our photographs of other Banjara and they allow us to photograph a few of the younger girls. The excitement builds, the girls change to their more elaborate skirts and we make images for at least one hour, until a relationship is formed for perhaps next year's visit.
Unfortunately, upon our return to the truck, we find two punctured tires and a broken window. Of course anyone walking by is a candidate for this action, but we cannot help feel a sense of sadness in knowing that perhaps our visit to others in the area might have resulted in some ill feeling.
Regardless, this young Banjara girl knows the difference between us and the others from her past and shows us a trust that so few have in their first encounter with us. She is an example for people that have lost these qualities, for those seeking to regain them.
She stands here like a queen on a throne, with a sense of compassion that few in such high places have.
A daughter of a prostitute, surrounded by acts of immeasurable difficulty, she stands proud.
How much more can she take? How many more years can she bear?
She has survived so far and, with the help of Nirvanavan Foundation, will rise above her circumstances to become a different person than her society expects.
On this day, she gives me more than five minutes to make her portrait, first in black and white and then in color, time is absent. She is the person that gives my work its worth, for without her story my work has little meaning.
She is an example for the rest of us.
More portraits can be seen at the above websites and are for sale to benefit the foundations.
This is my fourth year with these girls and their small community. My work with them has spanned two foundations, beginning with Humana People to People India and presently with Nirvanavan Foundation. At this time, they lack a school, live in tents, lack water and electricity and live on land that is in question according to the folks living in the town nearby.
The surrounding community wants them to leave and have made that quite clear. In great thanks to Nirvanavan Foundation, a case has been made on their behalf in the court system and now their voices are being heard. This community lacks land, ration cards and the ability to vote as well.
Since the beginning, they have heard from me that they will never be forgotten, regardless of their status with the foundations. Last year, with the great help of Nirvanavan Foundation, we found them and continued our documentation.
On this day, we arrive with their photographs from last year and hand them out to the children. At first, the men are a little hesitant to allow the photography. After the good people of the foundation speak to them for a little bit, the girls line up and wait for their photographs to be made. They all know that they will receive their pictures before my departure this year.
We make a studio with the materials given to us and portraits shorty thereafter. The girls are just wonderful, in light of the difficulties surrounding them. It is glances like theirs that keep me going. When you look at this picture, do you see their faces? Do you see the love in their eyes, their smiles?
I do.
You have my thanks for taking the time to read this blog, it tells their stories to the best of my ability. I hope that the pictures do better.
Her first time in front of me, this is the grandmother of two wonderful women in Banganga. Her daughters have shown me the best of this large country over the past four years. One is the teacher of the Humana People to People Girls Bridge School in the village and the other a mother of six children, four of whom have become central to my photography in Rajasthan, with two being a bit young to have their portraits made as of this day.
All in all, seven girls from these two families are involved in my photography for Humana. In three of my four visits to India, my photography has ended in Banganga, Rajasthan.
On the day of my flight to the States this year, we arrange the school's girls in the home adjacent to this one. We make portraits of all, including some parents. We then move to this home for breakfast and, in the tradition of these two families, are served two meals, one from each family, along with two cups of tea in the same fashion.
The teacher makes rice with sugar and her sister makes a sweet rice pudding, even though this region of India leans heavily on bread rather than rice.
Everyone watches as the two of us eat, me and the taxi driver.
She waits until the last minute to show her face. This afternoon, we make portraits of all the children, all the other women before she decides to have her portrait made. Every time she lifts her veil, the other women laugh and invite her to do the same, barely holding her pose for a few seconds before turning away to laugh. This time, she gave me a little more than a few seconds.
The school in this Nat Community is in its first year. It has been accepted well and the teacher seems to be happy. She shows us a wonderful classroom, one full of children eager to learn. The walls, while in need of repair perhaps, are lined with drawings of the children.
There is also another woman in the room, an assistant to the teacher. She is just as kind and serves tea to us at the end of our photography.
While the children lack even the most basic essentials, such as seats or even mats to sit upon, they are happy to have a foundation that truly shows them respect, keeps its promises and provides them with an education that will hopefully show their community a way out of the world of sex, a world that the Nat Community knows all too well.
He decides to have a smoke after the farmers meeting, just in time for his portrait.
A few minutes ago, he was involved in a meeting of farmers, one project that Humana People to People India supports. These groups of farmers meet every month, share ideas and have even developed a banking system that allows them to loan to each other. Every meeting, the farmers put a little bit of money into a collective fund from which members may borrow.
Today, Babulal from the foundation directs the meeting, asks each farmer a few questions and gives them a chance to tell their stories. We record the footage and then take the time to make their portraits. Each enjoys posing for the camera, comes up with their own ideas, such as the farmer above.
So then the next day we visit Baba's village. He has been smiling all week with the thought of visiting his village with the team and so today his smile is even more complete. This man has over the past ten days been instrumental in the work for Humana People to People India, allowing me to complete my work even in the most difficult of circumstances.
Everyone knows him here so we decide to take a small detour to his home and set up our lunch of samosas next to his fields. We meet his wife and she refrains from saying a single word at the same time, a custom my ears have become used to in this land. We eat our samosas in peace and then move onto the school, where about sixty girls have been waiting for us patiently.
We find one of their classrooms perfect and arrange our equipment. The teachers in this school, as well as the Principal, are more than accommodating, arranging chairs for us and even writing the names of the girls down for us. One at a time, the girls sit down for their portraits, starting from the upper classes to the lower. Some girls smile easily and some less so.
Two male students hold the reflector and have fun doing so even though the subjects of my photography are all girls. In the end, they also have their portraits made by me along with the all-male staff and Principal. We leave to a chorus of appreciation.
She prepares everything from scratch, with ingredients coming from the land around us. We sit down after a day of photography and have dinner, all of the family watching me and my team having dinner first before touching a morsel of food themselves.
Every year, my photography in Rajasthan ends in this little village, in this home or perhaps the adjacent house, the home of her sister and the teacher of the Humana People to People India Girls Bridge School. These are two families whose girls all attend school, first with the foundation's program and then with the mainstream school.
These are two families that tend to the land themselves, without the help of any outsiders other than perhaps some specialized chores such as the trimming of the palm trees. Every single time my team has visited these two homes, all were working either in the fields or in the homes. My eyes have never seen anyone sitting upon arriving. The two men of these households are endlessly working, tending to the land.
They recycle everything, cook food for their buffalo every single day and make use of their surroundings for fuel, food and shelter. Once again this year, my photography ended with breakfast two days later in this same spot, after a wonderful morning of photography.
