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This was personal for me. I had been at yoga, reclining in a relaxation pose, when unknown to me, more than a hundred thousand people were dying in a few seconds in Haiti, where I had planned to be holding a 100Eyes photo workshop in less than two weeks time. As the news streamed in, a surreal email from a student writing about the quake, and then a click away to the first images of the Presidential Palace collapsed, I really needed no more information to understand the catastrophe. I had been in Haiti the year before, in Gonaives, where mudslides, after a wave of hurricanes, had covered the city. I had stood on the top floor of the Montana, and looked out across the valley at the concrete slums rising up the mountainside, and talked with my friend Katherine Chermantin, about the possibility of a horrendous calamity in the form of an earthquake hitting Port au Prince. We had talked about the non-existent building codes, and that Haiti was on a fault zone. At that time I thought that the slum houses would slide down the hill. Ironically, it was the mighty Montana that fell, crushing 300 people inside, and the small houses remained intact, as did much of Petionville. At that time Haiti was to be a longterm project. I had ten years to document the story. I was in no rush. All that ended with the email and the news. This was the final chapter, not the beginning. And much of my work appeared in jeopardy, the wonderful Kanaval project in Jacmel with Zanmi Lakay. Of course my loss was small compared to the Haitians.
Just as an explanation, the photographs here were taken during four days of walking through Port au Prince, without a translator, or an escort of any sort. Even in the most chaotic of situations, Haitians were polite, encouraging, and welcoming. There is much of Port au Prince that is not devastated. The city is not lost. But what the future will be, with infrastructure collapsed and perhaps a hundred thousand in camps around the city, remains to be seen. But one can only bow with respect to the resilience and the strength of the Haitian people, who for the most part dug themselves from the rubble. Hopefully we can help them in their journey forward.

Andy Levin
New Orleans

Thanks to NYCMedics, Phil Suarez, and Jet Blue for sponsoring me on this trip, and to my students for continuing to support me on this project. Click here for information on the Haiti workshops.

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This essay by Nanni Fontana is presented as a tribute to Poveda’s work, and the essay by Carlos Lopez-Barillas that follows intends to initiate a discussion on the changing landscape for documentary journalists. If you have stories that you would like to share as part of this ongoing tribute to Poveda, preferably related to his interests in Latin America, please contact me at levin.pix(at)gmail.com.

Chrisian Poveda

Death Trip: Maras Gangs in Honduras

Photographs by Nanni Fontana

In Honduras crime is endemic. With a population of just over 7 million people and 4,473 homicides a year, its per capita murder rate in 2008 was the second worst in the world. More than twelve violent deaths a day, and over 80% of the killings came by gunfire– often in public. The most violent day of the year was Christmas when 38 people killed. 65% of the murders were committed in public places of Tegucigalpa and San Pedro Sula, the political and the economic capital of the country, by hired killers, usually members of a gang recruited by the Mexican and Colombian narco cartels. The gangs, known as Maras, are spread all over Latin America and were imported from California by immigrants and exiles from the US.

Honduras was the last and the most unprepared State of Central America to cope with this youth phenomenon. In 2003 a plan of specific laws against the maras was implemented by the government and substantially gave the police the right to arrest anyone suspected of being a member of a gang, just for having tattoos or the way of dressing. After the 2005 presidential electoral campaign which saw Pepe Lobo, the National Party candidate, promise the population to reintroduce the death penalty, the gangs changed their criminal habits and their strategies. Both the biggest Maras, the M18 and the Mara Salvatrucha or MS13, became partners of the narco cartels running the drug business.

Those who decide to quit the mara have to live with a lifetime death sentence on them. It’s a rule. No one can leave behind his mara, and doing so he put at risk the life of his familiy and friends, at all times.

Those who decide to quit the mara have to live with a lifetime death sentence on them. It’s a rule. No one can leave behind his mara, and doing so he put at risk the life of his familiy and friends, at all times. Most of them grew up in the streets and entered the gang very young. Fabian, Ana, Nelson, Luis Omar, Robin, Carlos Alberto, Axel were well known with the names they were given entering the maras. El Demente, la Casper, el Sombra, el Plaga, el Pantera, el Bestia, Spike. All of them have killed the first time entering the mara, when they were “initiated”. Abandoned from their parents, they thought the gang as a new kind of family but without really knowing what it was, its strict rules, the stress of living under constant threat and the immense quantity of violence it would have brought in their lives. Like them, there are some 50.000 kids at risk reported only in Tegucigalpa. Probably ten times more in all the country. In Honduras, social discrimination is very strong.

There is an increasing feeling of uncertainty about the chronically poor security situation, the widely spread corruption among politicians and police officers. The increasing number of people living in extreme poverty is leading to an always higher number of kids living in the streets and most likely going to enter the maras.

Nanni Fontana

La Vida Loca ( The Crazy Life)

By Carlos Lopez-Barillas

Three days ago my email inbox experienced an unusual surge of activity. I was sipping my morning coffee whilst watching arriving messages from old colleagues from Central America, mainly photographers from Guatemala and El Salvador some of whom I haven’t heard for a while. All messages were carrying news about the death of another colleague Spanish-French photographer and more recently filmmaker Christian Poveda.

The news were that Christian had been shot dead in the outskirts of San Salvador. As the tragedy had just occurred, news reports on the net were still sketchy, however they all concurred in one thing. Christian had been shot while driving back from shooting a documentary about the gangs in El Salvador also known as “Maras”

I knew Christian from my time working for The Associated Press during the years of conflict in Guatemala, El Salvador and Nicaragua during the early 90’s. I didn’t know him very well but did know him as one of the photographers working in El Salvador and as such we used to come across each other every now and then. As with many colleagues he had switched or rather “expanded” into video work to compensate for a decrease, or should I say lack of photographic commissions.

I was pleasantly surprised albeit a bit apprehensive when after more than a decade of not hearing anything about his work or career he had recently emerged with a remarkable set of images and a video-documentary about the life of gangs in El Salvador called “ La Vida Loca”. This was quickly putting him back on the spotlight, sadly his success was short lived.

The reason for my apprehension derived from the fact that as a Guatemalan born photographer myself living and working in Europe I have received several requests for documenting gangs in Central America during previous years, however the main reason why I have always declined is because of the very reason why Christian was killed.

Like many other documentary photographers I found the gang culture fascinating and interesting as an anthropological phenomena. Without being judgmental I always reflected about how the violence and ruthless behavior that characterized Central American gangs was a clear indicative of many of the things that are wrong in our societies, however I always kept a distance.

I recall a conversation a couple of years back with my friend American journalist Tom Long who had been through the worst years of the armed conflicts in Central America, as a seasoned war correspondent. As a resident of El Salvador for over 15 years he had a great inside knowledge of that country. At the time of our conversation Tom had just finished working as a fixer for a BBC film crew doing a fly-by-night documentary on Salvadorian Gangs, when I mentioned to him that I had received a couple of requests to photograph gangs and was requesting his advice on the matter. He said; “Don’t do it, you just don’t do that, it’s crazier than war itself and you will get killed for sure” I followed his advice.

While Christian’s death has generated some speculation about the motivations behind his murder, some hypothesis had been risen to whether he had been killed by the local government forces or organized crime, my personal opinion based on my own professional experience is that in Christian’s case the reasons behind his death were quite simple, he ventured too deep into a parallel world were moral values are non-existent and things change too fast.

The incident brought back memories of an article I read a while ago about a notorious gang member who had been recently killed. The writer described in the article how this individual used to do freelance work as a hit man for some of the drug cartels. The article spoke about how he used to take great pleasure doing his work and also described in great detail his pride and joy; a nickel plated Colt 45 gun which he had had engraved on the safety mechanism the words “ Safety On” and “ Rock& Roll”

I don’t know the real motivation behind Christian Poveda choosing this subject for his documentary, as we never had the opportunity to discuss it, and more than likely we will never know, however, I knew Christian enough to know he was an intelligent and articulate man. He had the background, at 52 years old he had the experience and as a long term El Salvador resident he knew the risks, we all did.

Regardless of his own personal reasons, his death did make me reflect about how nowadays in a shrinking photographic market with increasing competition more and more photographers are being driven to taking more risks to save their careers. In the end he is the only one who knew for real.

The “unofficial” version of events surrounding Christian’s death is that the same gang boss who allowed him “in” a few months earlier was the same who ordered his murdered from jail. As soon as the gang got word of the increasing success the documentary and photos were enjoying the gang started to demand money from him. Due to the fact that Christian was neither able or willing to give in to these money demands he was killed, so in a way his success was probably his undoing.

The internet and the digital era has become a mix of a curse and a blessing at the same time for photojournalism, it has allowed our work to move faster and further than ever before. However at the same time it has created new elements to consider when we shoot stories, as there is a certainty that our subjects will now see the results of our work, and it has increasingly become harder and harder to protect oneself from risks.