Musings of a Budding Photographer

The photos in this entry were taken at the school where Finn and the Irish musicians performed, as described in the previous entry.

It started at the end of my time in South Africa when I captured the shot that encapsulates South Africa for me; the barbed wire against the red sunset (in a post from December). Since then I have become somewhat obsessed with finding images like that one; ones that you could literally write 1000 words about. So far in Malawi I have taken some photographs that I am pretty proud of… but I must question why I pride myself on these images.

First of all, let me preface this with some truths:

*I know nothing about shutter speeds, light meters, focus…. All the technical stuff

*I only use a point-and-shoot digital camera (Canon PowerShot SX120 IS)

*My sister is much more of a photographer than I and has taken some amazing photos, especially of people. She does the whole dark-room thing, messes with exposures and chemicals and what-not…. all over my head. But she and my mother have always told me I have “an eye” for photography. I always feel weird about that, saying, “Nah, I don’t! I just look!”

I wrote about this just a little in a previous entry, how it is so easy to take a “compelling” photograph in Africa because, well, there’s just seemingly more to work with. For me, it is more challenging to take compelling pictures in Shelby, NC. But what I have been asking myself lately is, ‘why?’ What is it about little bald black heads that is so much more interesting to look at than a bunch of blond heads? For instance, in the following photo (my favorite one from that day), would it be as cool if it were a little white boy with blond hair?

or this one:

Photos I have taken of groups of Malawian children seem so much more striking. I thought, hmm, maybe the lack of hair makes the viewer focus more on the face. So many children here carry the trauma they have seen on their faces:

while others just light up at the sight of a camera:

I absolutely LOVE this picture!! The action!! All of the faces!! But why is it so “cool” that Andrew Finn is the only white person in the frame? Talking with Finn about this, he had some great insights that I agree with and helped me answer many of the questions I posed earlier:

The message in this photo is that while they don’t look alike, Finn and the boys still have so much in common. There is a human connection going on that defies color and culture. This photo proves that these children are more than just postcards for donations- this shows they are actual people. Look at how much fun everyone is having! There aren’t as many differences as we may think; we can all delight in taking a photograph. Therein lies the power. So, the answer to the question about little black heads vs. little blond heads is no, it would not be as cool if it were a little blond boy because the story behind it is that it's all about the cultural exchange, about highlighting differences and diminishing them at the same time. A smile is a smile in any language.

I am also trying to analyze how the look of poverty can become so exoticized in photographs. A photo of an emaciated African child with flies buzzing around it hits people so much harder than a photograph of a Beverly Hills plastic-surgery junkie in her mansion, when I think both are just as sad. It’s sad that the child seemingly has no option and it’s sad that a woman with such unwarranted wealth can think of nothing better to do than get lipo. This is just a made up example, but you know what I mean? Both nauseate me, just for different reasons. It’s easier to inspire people donate money to an NGO through photos of skinny black arms and tattered clothes than it is to inspire people to write their Senators about taxes and health-care reforms through pictures of extravagant American lifestyles. So why don't I start snapping away when I am at a swanky Embassy party full of ex-pats dressed to the nines; ex-pats that work for Aid organizations nonetheless? Where is the real story?

Hmm. 

Anyways.

Sometimes during an interview/narrative session, I ask the person we are talking to if it is ok to take their photo. Our translator and friend, Blessings (also pictured in a previous post) always laughs and says, “Of course its ok!” He says that people never really ask to take pictures, and for the most part Malawians don’t really care. I have to ask though, I feel rude not asking. But you know, maybe for the rural Malawians we have talked to, it is one of the few chances they might have to be immortalized. In a country where death is so common that there are coffin shops on every other street, perhaps to them this photo means that somewhere, somehow, they will be remembered. I’m only guessing.

None of this is to say I am going to give up photography because I feel guilty. No way. I am going to continue showing that little African boys can find joy in watching a group of white musicians play music on instruments they have never seen before because, to me, that’s what its all about. Thus, I am thrilled to continue looking and taking photographs in the name of my quest for the photo.

I’ll let you know what I find.

Mama Brona and Irish-Malawian Fusion Week

Ever met someone and felt like, “How have I not known this person my entire life” This past week I have asked myself this question in regards to my new friend, Brona. Brona is in her 50s, 100% Irish and is an absolute gem of a human being. Since meeting her she has swiftly taken Finn and I under her wing and become our surrogate Mama in Malawi.

            It all started a few weeks ago when we met her at a friend’s house. Finn happened to bring his fiddle and was encouraged to play after dinner. After 1 song, Brona was weeping. “Oh, my, it sounds like home! What a gift!” We exchanged numbers and thought we’d maybe hear from her down the road. A few days later she calls Finn with an exciting offer- to join forces with 4 young Irish musicians who are coming to Malawi for 10 days to perform at different venues around Lilongwe. Of course Finn gave an enthusiastic “YES!” I was also excited because I was invited along too, and Brona wanted me to sing! The dates: Marh 11-17. As I am writing this on the morning of the 17^th, I can say that the past few days have been, hands-down, the most fun I have had in Malawi.

Here’s the play-by-play:

Thursday: Meet and Greet.

Arrive for the first time at Brona’s beautiful home. Meet her 15 year old twin daughters and guests as they start coming in. One was a Malawian woman Victoria who is married to an Irishman named Shane. This was the first bi-racial/cultural couple I had seen in Malawi. Let me tell you- this woman was a hoot. She just started talking away to me about everything under the sun; how I am learning Chichewa, how cold Ireland is, how crazy South Africa is, how she wants to go shopping in Miami… everything.

Then the Irish Lads arrived: Cillian the guitarist, Colm the bodhran player, Ryan the flute player, and Tighe the accordian player. They are all between the ages of 18 and 20 and nice as they could be. We went over the schedule for the week and let them get some rest.

 Friday: Rehearsal and Performance #1

After much speculation, I decided to sing Crooked Still’s version of “Orphan Girl,” originally by Gillian Welch. Crooked Still’s version is much faster, and I think much more fun. But I had just a couple of hours to learn those lyrics….. !

Rehearsal at 1:00 pm at the house of Brian O’Brien (could that name be any more Irish?!) who works for the Irish Embassy. For this rehearsal, all people performing had to come- including the Malawian band Mafilika!! YALL. I can’t explain how well Irish music and Malawian music blend. It was unreal. All 9 musicians started jamming and I just watched in awe as everyone in the room started smiling, realizing simultaneously, “Damn, this sounds good!” That translates into any language.

So after an intense jam session/rehearsal, it was time to get ready for the sound check. Went home to get dressed and then straight to the school for sound check. Didn’t take too long. Then the guests started streaming in! I was only a little nervous; I haven’t sung in front of a crowd that size in years. There were 300 people in the audience and I’d say about 95% were ex-pats. It felt so weird- more like an assembly in Ohio than in Malawi!

As the organizer of the event, Brona also served as the MC for the evening. She was great and the first half of the show was a hit. I was at the top of the second half so I started to get more nervous, but Finn calmed me down. When the time came, I put on my Southern charm and just went for it. I was pretty proud of how it went and people seemed to like it. But the number that brought the house down was Brian O’ Brien doing traditional Irish dancing along with this local guy Shambe, who was doing traditional Malawian dancing. It was amazing. I really wish I had taken a video of it. The crowd went nuts. So so cool.

All in all it was a huge success and everyone loved the Irish-Malawian fusion. After the concert Finn and I had so many people come up to us and congratulate us, especially him as he played the entire show. It was a real confidence booster to have all of these women tell me that they loved my voice- wow! We were floating on air. The American Ambassador came up to Finn and said, “Tonight, you made America proud.” HOW BOUT THAT?!?

(Unfortunately Finn and I forgot the camera that night! But, Brian O’Brien is making a DVD of the performance. So if youre realllllllllly interested in like October when I am home you can see it then)

 Saturday: Family Fun Day and Peformance #2

Woke up in the morning feelin like P. Diddy. Headed back over to the school with our house-mate Eleonora for Family Fun Day! Again I wondered, “Am I in Nebraska or something?” So many ex-pats and their kids, it really felt like home. A huge braai, Gaelic football for everyone to watch, face painting for the kids, plenty of sun and plenty of shade. We stayed for about 2 hours and just soaked it up. I even drank a Coke (highly unusual, but I felt really American all of a sudden and it just fit). Back home in the afternoon and then over to 4 Seasons, this complex that has a nice restaurant, bar, and a bunch of little shops (again, mainly ex-pats or upper-class Malawians). The sound check was at 5:30 for an 8:30 show. The Malawian guys were there at 5:00 like we were, but when did the Irish musicians show up? 9:30. How’s that for Malawian time? The bar was disgustingly smoky and full of drunk people but the show was great. So energetic, like a rock show. I sat with some friends and watched while drunk people tried to dance “Irish” (to no avail). The show finally wrapped up around 12:30 and we were home by 1. A lonnnnnng night.

 Sunday: Private Dinner Party and Irish Music Session at Brona’s

Headed over to Brona’s at 6:00 pm for a beautiful evening. There were maybe 40 people total. We had a fantastic meal. I don’t think I’ve painted a sufficient picture of how incredibly sweet Brona is, so here is an example: during dinner, she pretty much said the following in about 4 seconds in the sweetest Irish accent:

 “Do you want some more? Are you sure? Oh, don’t be shy. Please. Have some more. Is that ok? Can I get you a drink? Oh, don’t be silly. What will you like? Ok, coming right up darling.”

The Irish lads + Finn started playing and everyone gathered around in a circle; nice low-key atmosphere. Brona encouraged people to sing (she sang herself, lovely voice) and convinced me to sing as well. I did a little Gavin DeGraw inspired rendition of “Tracks of my Tears” and felt good about it. About 3 hours into the event I realized Brona has a TRAMPOLINE so I naturally freaked out and went and did about 20 back flips on it. I felt like I was 8 years old. Awesome. Finally the night drew to a close and Finn and I went home happy.

 Moday: Off

Finn and I had a narrative scheduled for that day and could not join the lads to perform at local schools. But we were able to the next day….

Tuesday: Performances #3 and #4  at Local Schools

The idea behind this whole series of events is to share culture through music. While it was great to perform for all of the adoring ex-pats, it wouldn’t be right if the lads didn’t perform for Malawians. Tuesday morning headed straight over to Brona’s and hopped in her car, the Irish lads following behind, and drove out about 30 minutes to a rural Catholic primary school. There were about 300 children in the auditorium. Seeing their faces when the lads started playing was incredibly cute, but waned in comparison to when they started dancing on stage with them. Imagine 5 pasty white boys jamming away on some jigs and polkas as hundreds of little Malawian children giggle and dance along:

 So incredible. I got some good video footage and will post it when it won’t take 8396732 years to load (whiiiiiiiiich means when I get home). Anyways, we grabbed a quick lunch then headed off to the second school, which was for me the best part of the whole week. It was an all boys school somewhere out in the sticks. When we arrived they looked SO excited. The school had no hall like the previous one. Instead we wandered out into this beautiful field behind the school. The Irish lads + Finn set up in the shade of this giant tree in front of their audience of about 400 boys. It was pure magic. The boys were totally enthralled and even got up to perform a song they had written about HIV/AIDS for us. So much dancing, so much smiling… it hit me in that moment:

**It is days like these that remind me why I am here**

These are just a couple shots to give you an idea. I took TONS of photos and will make a separate entry with my best ones.  Anyways, during our car ride back home, Brona, Finn and I starting talking about the ex-pat lifestyle, struggles, diversity in culture, and many other things I have thought and written about since my arrival in Malawi. Talking with Brona made so much sense. 

My favorite quote from Brona throughout the discussion was:

“I just have to remember that I have learned far more

than what I have had to put up with.”

BINGO! I thought. The traffic bribes, the heckling at the market, the inconceivable amount of pot-holes, the taunts of ‘mzungu’ everywhere you go…. all those petty things that we as ex-pats in the city begrudgingly put up with on a daily basis are nothing in comparison to what we learn through these experiences. 2 weeks ago I would have probably written, “To what avail? To say that we went through it? To learn how to apologize to traffic police when in actuality you’ve done nothing wrong and they’re just milking what miniscule ounce of power they have?” While I think there is still truth in that, talking in the car with Brona made something click. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else, someone who I can see has seen a lot in her many years in Africa and is not hardened but grateful that she has been able to learn. “Ah, sure there are days when I’ve said, ‘THAT’S IT! IM GOIN HOME!’ But then you learn how to deal with things, sweety, you know what I mean? And it may not seem like it at the time, but you come out better for it. Trust me, you do”

 Wednesday: HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!

As I am writing this the morning of, I can’t tell you about the event at the Irish Ambassador’s house… yet. Stay tuned! I am definitely excited about tonight but also a little sad because it’s all about to be over. “Now what!?” This past week has been an absolute blast. While I can’t expect every week to be this action packed, I am certainly glad I got to be a part of all of the celebrations. I am so glad to have met all of the musicians and especially Mama Brona. I know that she will be a good friend for some time to come and I can’t explain how comforting it is to have a Mama figure around. I also know that I would not have had the opportunity to be involved in any of this if Finn were not so dedicated and passionate about Irish music. Props. I never thought I’d say it, but DAMN it pays to date an Irish musician! 

happy kids

another way i entertain myself? PHOTO BOOTH YALL. 

Andrew had never seen it. So i gave him a 30 minute tutorial. We had just finished watching a Tae-Bo DVD, hence the headband and goofy endorphin-induced expressions. 

Andrew Finn Magill. Doing Tae-Bo. 

What a sight.

More updates to come, including an action-packed Irish-Malawian fusion jam session.

SAY WHAT! 

how i entertain myself when it gets dark at 6:15 every day

1) watch "Lost"
I vowed to never get sucked in. BUT ITS SO GOOD. I wrote an apology email to all my friends who I ever made fun of for watching "Lost". A friend of mine here in Lilongwe had the first season on DVD and made me take it home. "You can thank me later" she said. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

2) watch "Glee"
I never watch TV at home! What the hell! But when its 8:00 pm and I know I'm not going anywhere else that night, my roommate Eleanora and I have Glee dates. We watched the whole first season in about 1 week rationing out the episodes, 2 per night. Andrew Finn does not participate. I think he's jealous because one of the characters is named Finn. Anyway. It makes me want to start a Lilongwe Glee Club. Or just go back to high school for like a day. Maybe. DAMN MERCEDES CAN SING.

3) Make up names for NGOs
"Hope" this and "Care" that. Come on, folks. Get a little more creative. How about "Just Tryina Get a Fanta" or "Give Em Some Maize Flour". Those are some of the more offensive ones. Making these up over dinner can be quite fun.

4) Have a dance party
....by myself. Andrew Finn usually retreats to his creative lair after dinner. I venture in sometimes to collaborate. But other times, this is our only time apart during the day and yall KNOW I need some alone time. He does too. So I'll put on my iPod and work on some hip-hop in the room. Maybe 3 minutes abs?

5) Read. 

Sometimes.  I am reading "The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind" right now, but can I be honest? Though it is a wonderful book and I am learning a lot about Malawi through it, sometimes I want to escape Malawi for a little bit, you know? Hence the Glee.

6)Write emails to people on MS Word
No internet at home. It stopped working. So I'll draft emails on a Word Document

7) Write this

Love
Kaitlin

how i see it

The following is just a concoction of observations and opinions. This is just what I have gathered during my time here. I don’t know everything and I don’t claim to.

The more time I spend here, the less I think I want a career abroad, especially in a developing country. I will explain why:

     Working for the State Department! 

Wow- what a romantic notion to a youngin fresh out of college.

However, the more time I spend with ex-pats and their families, the more I think it is not for me. A lot of ex-pats I have met are foreign service officers (FSOs), a position that requires a lot of training and knowledge…… but for what? To sit at a desk all day in the Embassy, which is technically part of America? I’m not saying their work isn’t important or valuable, sure it is. They have helped Finn and I a great deal and I am glad to have the Embassy folks on our side. However, just for me personally I wouldn’t want a job like this. Working at the Embassy is a full-time job, leaving seemingly little time for exploration of a region or a way to genuinely fraternize with the local people. Sure, you make good money, but for what? To throw parties for other white people, and to buy plane tickets home? (Then again, a lot of people work at home to buy plane tickets here….ahem.... like myself). If you work for the Embassy, your house is provided by the government and is SUPER secure, and you can import anything from the States- anything from Pantene to HoneyNut Cheerios to barbeque grills. So basically what a lot of people do is make a little tiny America for themselves. But who can blame them; they have the means and familiarity begets comfort. Who wouldn’t want to be comfortable where they live? Who really expects an FSO or USAID employee with a family to move into an unsafe house in an unsafe neighborhood with no other white people around? That could be suicide. So, of course, a lot of ex-pats clump together and form communities. Within these communities, it seems like the members create mini-Americas or white-people-associations through groups and dinners and things of the like- to create a comfortable, familiar environment of support. Which is……I must admit- awesome. Some of the most fun I have had here has been at dinner parties hosted by other ex-pats. But I feel a little weird about that.

During these get-togethers, you either talk about:

1)    how backwards everything is where you are

2)    things you miss about home

3)    other countries you have been to and how this one compares

4)    when the next get together will be, so you can do it all over again

….. or you just play softball or ultimate frisbee to just forget about it all.

I’ve never seen white people getting together after work hours to talk about Malawian issues, development issues, or social issues just for fun- maybe because it isn’t really fun to talk about these things for the people working at the Embassy or at an NGO. They probably talk about it at work all day! Don’t get me wrong, I have met plenty of people abroad who genuinely love what they do and are passionate about their work. However, there are plenty of people like that in the States, who get together at dinner parties and talk about trips they want to take….

Working for an NGO abroad!

Wow, what a romantic notion to a youngin fresh out of college.

But DAMN does it seem like a different ball game when you actually try to make it happen. I have heard so many stories of people and met many people who either come abroad to volunteer or to work for an NGO and it is either a complete scam or just completely different than they thought it would be. Just because it’s an NGO does NOT mean they are organized, legit, or have anything for you to do! And, even if they are organized, legit, and have something for you do it; that may just be sitting at an office all day- the thing that drives many people out of their job in the US in the first place. A lot of people want to work abroad so they can be “hands on”, or working “in the field” to distribute either the money or supplies that other people have helped gather. However, why do so many deem this as more desirable, more important? Sure, you need someone to actually do deliver mosquito nets. Absolutely. But, that person may not even have that job of carrying out that task if someone else didn’t find a way to secure the funding, actually receive the funding, and execute the mission. Both are equally important but often the person who is doing the grant-hunting work is a) in America b) not as appreciated/recognized as the person “in the field.” All it takes to be “in the field” is a plane ticket. That does not make it cooler.

Living in a mud hut!

Wow, what a romantic notion to (some) youngins fresh out of college.

If I were really keen to do so, I’m sure I could arrange to go live in a mud-hut somewhere with a rural Malawian family. However, what would that really accomplish? I can pretty much imagine what that might be like:

Exchanging awkward pleasantries as we try to communicate

Wondering if the water/food is safe

Probably having a lot of diarrhea, therefore being dehydrated, therefore feeling weak- my least favorite way to feel

Praying I don’t get malaria

Reading a lot/writing a lot/thinking of home a lot

Wondering what the hell I’m doing there

Maybe learning how to plant corn or something…..something that will probably have little practicality in my life and I would just do it because it would be something to do.

 ….. and to what avail? Sure, it would be a very memorable, maybe even life-changing experience, and granted I have never done this before. But would I do it just to say that I did it, or because I genuinely wanted to put myself through it? I’m over doing crazy things just to drop it in a conversation and see people’s reactions. That a sign of immaturity. To me, one sign of a naïve traveler is the desire to do things just to impress other people, or to seem badass to others but try to play it off like they don’t care what other people think. Please. I definitely see that in people I have met in the past 6 months and also in my younger self. I’m guilty! But I can’t be annoyed with my younger self; she didn’t know any better. Shit, I’m sure in 5 years I’ll be looking back on my time in Malawi, thinking, “Man, she didn’t know a thing.”  

“Hi. My name is Kaitlin. I am addicted to profundity.”

I have said it before and I’ll say it again, I am addicted to profundity. I am addicted to huge experiences that leave me befuddled at first but then irrevocably changed in the end. However, it’s sometimes hard to remember that when you are in the thick of befuddlement. When the doubts start to set in and you question motives that you came up with months ago…… the only option is to either stick it out or go home. One question I have been asking myself lately is; Why do we love the struggle??? What, after scams, robberies, intestinal trauma, emotional trauma, and things of the sort, keeps us coming back for more? When I left Tanzania, I was so ready to come home. I had had enough of being called “mzungu,” of being ripped off, of riding in a cramped mini-bus, of the pollution, of diarrhea, of always worrying if I were exposing my knees…… etc. But for some reason as the months passed and my memories started becoming selective, I only remembered the positive things. Why, directly after I travel in a developing country (I haven’t been to many) do I relish in being home, only to find that a few months down the road I start to feel the tug back to the very things I was so sick of; back to the struggle?

I was once talking with my dear friend Hadley about my “addiction.” She listened very closely, as she always does, and then handed me this pearl: “It is easy to find things that are profound abroad- the hard part is finding them at home.” She is totally right- having those eye-opening experiences comes easy when you travel- it’s almost as if the world hands them to you on a plate. It is no more noble to search for profundity abroad than at home. All it takes to travel is money- that’s it. Yet we are still addicted to the foreign quest, still thirsty for the foreign unknown, which usually happens to require foreign currency. What I’m trying to learn right now is that I can still quench that thirst right in my hometown, just in a different way. That would be more of a challenge.

      So which is the right way to go? Travel with a noble purpose? Who defines what a noble purpose is? If your purpose in traveling is to see Mt Everest, I think that is just as valuable a purpose as going to Uganda to work for a non-profit. It all depends on what you want to do with your life, and what makes you happy. That’s what we’re all after anyway, right? Thinking about this, the other day I sat myself down to make a list of the Top 10 things that make me happy. Here is what I came up with:

Being with/near my friends

Being with/near my family

Being with/near my love

Good food

Exercising

Children

Being in nature

Seeing new things

Music/ playing piano
Feeling free/independent

Notice anything? All of these things I have access to at home.

 None require living abroad.

This is what it boils down to: despite my bouts of homesickness, in no way do I regret coming here. To turn this opportunity down would have been nothing short of foolish. Had I stayed at UNC my final semester, I could have easily been thinking, “Man, I could be in Cape Town right now!” though while I was in Cape Town I started to kick myself, thinking, “why was I so eager to give up something so good in search of something unknown?” And that’s just it- there is no way that I could have known, no way to ignore that powerful tugging to do come back to this part of the world. The whole point of this journey is to figure all of this stuff out. And it’s not even that I am learning the hard way- I think I am learning this the only way I can- by actually doing it. If I were in America right now and Andrew Finn were here doing this project, I would be working 24/7 to find a way to get to Malawi. Why are the “things you’re missing” always become so magnified when you’re away? To me, it’s just the age-old conundrum of wanting to be where you are not.

Road Trip

So. This has been one crazy week. We decided to take a road trip to Mulanje, a region in southern Malawi to do some hiking. "Oh, we'll just take the car!" HMMMM. LETS THINK ABOUT THAT. 5 people, a shit-ton of luggage, and extra petrol because you never know if there's going to be a petrol shortage. I think this journey is best communicated through photos. So, here we are at the beginning, PACKED into the car like some damn sardines.

Oh wait, did you see that face? Let's zoom in. I entitle the following 

"SKEPTICAL"

I had a feelin. Anyways, I decided not to fear too much, because a few days ago we couldnt help but spend the $1 to get this bumper sticker that we keep seeing everywhere:

Well. We must have been runnin low on the blood. Computer mal-function here, rainstorm there, emergency pee stop with crazy ants all over the place, a slowly deflating tire.... which eventually looked like this about 20 minutes outside of Blantyre:

 But the blood was still with us- we managed to change that sucker in about 10 minutes to our little spare tire that happened to be about 90% flat. Awesome. We also managed to somehow create a huge gash on the underbelly of the car because there was a dispute about whether or not to put the jack on the body of the car or the frame. I said the frame but I dont think anyone listened. Anyways, this postponed our trip a great deal and we realized we would not be able to summit. 

BUT WE STILL DID NOT LOSE HOPE!!

We finally made it to Mulanje to see this beautiful view:

I also realized that one of the most fun things you could ever do on a road-trip here is to just stick a camera out the window and snap away. This entertained me and the other passengers for HOURS. (big word up to Finn who drove extremely well the entire time)

Here are some of my favorites:

What an inspiration. 

The colors!

The hike itself turned out to be ok. With the lack of sleep and substantial food to eat, it was pretty rough for me on the way up. But the views were great. There were many other disasters on this trip that I dont even feel like going into. In the end we had a good but exhausting week.

*whew*