Friday, January 23, 2009

Not much to say but goodbye.

It's done. It was nuts getting it all together, but it's done. At the show I was asked a couple of times if I was a professional and I didn't know how to answer. I guess I am, now that I have had my first exhibition, but I am still uncertain as to what qualifies a professional photographer. My boss posted a sign saying "Photos for sale." and I asked him what he was doing, having no intention or desire of selling any photos. He said not to worry and that if anybody wanted a photo, we would put such a high price on them that the interested party would simply have to say no. "But I asked why." no response. One woman offered 7,000 Rps which is about 100 dollars but my boss said 10,000 and held firm, she didn't buy. I don't think I will ever understand business in Nepal. The documentary went very well and despite a couple of error reports that popped up in the middle of the movie, which we did not send, everyone loved it. The photos were equally admired, receiving comments such as: good collection, beautiful photos, they truly tell a story, great job capturing such delicate moments. Only one comment was without positive response but not necessarily negative either, "These only capture a part of what street life is, you should try the others, their better." People also seemed to respond well to my speech. It was five minutes long and with as flushed as I was, set me on fire. SAHARA's next step is to get quality display boards and take the exhibition and the documentary out to the rural areas where the street children generally come from. With this outreach program, we will be able to educate so many young people and discourage them from turning to the streets as their first solution to any problem that they may have. We will then be treating the problem and not the symptom that plagues Nepal and will truly have a chance at making a difference. The show itself was OK but as far as it's impact, I am skeptical. Some people networked their agencies around and some new ideas and bonds were developed that may not have been otherwise and some people may now be more sympathetic to the plight of street children. However, most of the people that came to the show are well aware of the problem already, so as I said some good came out of it of course, but I remain uncertain of it's effectiveness. In my last blog, I mentioned a baby named Mukti. And once again, much like the previous situation, my office was too slow to act. The baby is fine but her mother Sabitri has taken Mukti to live with her younger brother, where her future is brighter but still quite uncertain; so it goes. The show will be up for two more days and then that will be it. Nothing left to do now but say my goodbyes, to my street family, to my Nepali family, to my Nepali friends and coworkers, the sounds and smells and colors, the bartering, the rice and vegetables, the old movie posters pasted on brick walls 30 long and torn all across, and so many other countless little things. It will be very hard to say goodbye, and if my heart breaks, at least I know I used it. Any way, I will probably do one more post from Kathmandu and then I'll be home. Below I have put my speech you don't have to read it, it's OK I guess, but if you're curious it's there. I love you all and I will see you soon. Seth. Oh, and I tried to post some pictures of the exhibition and me in my new suit but it isn't working. I'll try again later. I got a lot of comments on how handsome I was.

Speech

The people you see today in these photos and in the film we are about to watch are my friends. Since I began this project almost 4 months ago, I have struggled with myself over this exhibition, not proud of what I felt would be making a spectacle of those who I have come to love and respect so greatly. However, I have come to terms with myself and have decided that their lives are too important not to show. One may think, “How important can the life of a beggar be?” but through their message, we can learn so much and fix what has been broken for far too long. I say these people are my friends and I mean that in every sense of the word: I trust them, I love them, and I admire them.
When I first started back in October, I went without my camera. I would walk around town and I would see the kids and they would see me and that was it, every day, until eventually they came over and said “Hello”. When I told them my name, “Seth”, the young boys couldn’t pronounce it, but it was fairly close to the word Sati meaning friend, and so my name on the street soon became Sati to most. As time went on, we both slowly lowered our guard and let the other in. Soon they invited me to come with them wherever they went and I started bringing my camera along. The more vulnerable we made ourselves to each other, the stronger our relationship grew and the more powerful the photos became. Soon, I started to trust my new friends more than any other person on the street and in turn they trusted me more as well.
For some, trust and street kids would seem to be a contradiction in terms, but they do have honor and a code: Do what you have to, to survive, but protect your own. Earning their trust I was accepted by the different groups and they began to look after me. When strangers would come up and start talking to me, which happened quite frequently due to my color, my friends would stand between me and the other person, never taking their eye’s off of them for a second, or they would simply signal me to be careful and not to trust this stranger. When they had food they shared it and if I lost money in a game of cards, they offered it back.
However, I do not mean to say that they acted righteously all the time or that every day was full of love and friendship. Some days were full of playful smacks to the groin or they would flash their genitals at me. Often, when I would give out bread or biscuits, if I let my guard down for a second, a boy would take it all and would maybe share with some, they would even grab from friends if they weren’t paying attention. When on the street, one should always remember that survival is number one and that camaraderie will always be second.
There were also several times when I would get into a disagreements that led to me or the others stomping off, only for us to come back the next day as if nothing had ever happened. Many times I would become physically as well as emotionally exhausted from the constant asking for more and more; it seemed like whatever I did, it was never enough. But I then realized that they will never stop asking, they are in a position of need and I am in a position to give and that is what they have always known; it was what simply came naturally to them and I could not hate them for it. And although their faults are many, I should make it very clear that I have never met a single person on the street that was innately bad or cruel.
Working in the streets for so long, I have grown to love everyone I have met. They have become family to me, each with their own special place in my hart. But it is exactly this love that makes this job so difficult and the need for success so great.
The possibility that I will outlive some if not many of my new street family, for me is something unacceptable. I have already seen many faces vanish without a trace, even their friends don’t know where they went and I refuse to watch and let this pattern continue any longer. This is what is broken and it is this that I wish to help fix.
The photos and film you are about to see are not meant to cause guilt or place blame, for such things only create insincere actions, upon which no good deeds can be founded. Nor is it to say that the people on the street are not at any fault for their current situation. SAHARA’s goal is to educate the most we possibly can, the best we can, so that others may make decisions for themselves and take positive actions of their own.
We have only scratched the surface with this exhibition. There are still so many other different issues in Nepal with many more people ready to tell their stories so that others may not suffer the same fate as they have. The purpose of our efforts tonight, is not merely a successful event, but so that from this exhibition, new and bold ideas will continue on through all of you in a hundred more different directions reaching all across this country: educating, saving, and supporting all those who are unable to do it themselves, until Nepal is an even greater nation that we all know it can be.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Eight more days.

The show is in eight more days. Every day up until yesterday I would look at my photos and make drastic editing alterations, but now the photos have been turned in and I can't change them anymore. I am very nervous. To save on the cost of printing for the human rights group I work for, I had to narrow down my original 30 to 26 photos and then we have to print "Photo Hollywood experience the difference." in the bottom corner of every picture. In America I would feel like a sellout but since we are in Nepal, where things such as money are seen differently, and since it isn't my money, I am pretty OK with it. We have just finished the final touches on the 20 min. documentary we made, and despite some last minute adjustments that I wanted that I guess were outside of my control, I feel that this movie is going to be great. I am also very excited to have a reason to officially wear my new suit as well. Things with the kids have been going alright. I have been unable to get any new subjects and so I just hope that what I have and what I will get in the next three weeks will be enough for the book. I have started collecting all of their names and talking with them a little more about quitting their lifestyle, they understand and shrug. The street woman I spoke of last time is doing OK. She decided that the six month program I offered was too long of a promise for training she didn't know if she would enjoy, but through another friend of hers, she is now working on becoming a field agent, warning the street kids about the dangers of their way of living and offering them options. But now Sabitri, the mother in Jamal has asked me to get her daughter Mukti (one year old) off the street. It's possible but much more difficult. It will either mean that Mukti goes to a shelter, if there is money and room, and is cared for until she is 18 and will be able to see her mother on scheduled visits once a month, or simply adoption. Both are a very delicate situation because when taking a child away from their mother, it is possible that the mother will change her mind or the kid will go back to the streets after their schooling, and thus is why we are uncertain of the actions we can take. Any way, I have been reading your messages and emails and I must say that I am overjoyed every time I hear from you, and am so glad that my blog is fun for you as well. I will let you all know how the show goes and what will happen with Mukti. I love you guys and I will talk with you later, Seth.