Some twenty of the estimated three hundred camps are in grave danger from flood waters as they are located on or at the bottom of steep hills. The danger is greatest is said to be “red” camps, a UN designation for those camps most at risk for flooding. The largest of the “red” camps is the so-called “golf course” camp, formerly secured by the American 86th Airbone, on the grounds of the Petionville Club, a private golf course that is now home to an estimated 60,000 Haitians. The essential services at the camp are housed in the ravine at the bottom of the hill, the area most likely to be over-run by water streaming down the slope of the golf course, which, like much of Haiti, has been largely stripped of its trees, this time by the refugees themselves. It is thought that here heavy rains could kill 5,000 people.

Although UN officials have publicly spoken to the dangers of the camps, to this point nothing has been done to move the resident’s of the “golf course.” Lacking adequate sanitary facilities, garbage is piled up in mounds and burned, and human waste is collected in pans and thrown out in the mornings, often all too near the tents themselves. The stench from the camp farther up in Petionville’s central square, formerly the site of outdoor movie projections, but now completely covered with makeshift shelters makes walking down the streets almost unbearable. Indeed, much of Port au Prince’s once public space in now completely covered in shelters, from the sprawling Camp Piste at the foot of Delmas, to the Champ de Mars across from the wounded Presidential Palace. Most soccer fields are occupied as well. And the fear is that the longer the situation remains, the greater possibility that the camps will become permanent, making the 40,000 strong Camp Piste, which like the rest of Port au Prince has no sewer system and little infrastructure, another Cite Soleil, requiring long-term assistance from the UN and international NGOs. As Richard Morse points out in his blog in the
Huffington Post the living conditions are far from new in Haiti. There are no sewer systems in Port au Prince, and many of the residents of the camps were living in structures of tin or concrete before the earthquake. He argues that it was relatively easy for them to adapt to living in the camps. And with a somewhat sure supply of water, and food, for the moment, to be had, what incentive to leave?

Part of the issue is ownership of the land, as many of the “slum” dwellings that collapsed in the hills of Port au Prince were built illegally, on private property. Even if housing were to be created in Port au Prince, the question of where to put the housing is moot. An architect with offices in Port au Prince suggested that the Venezuelan model, in which the country gave peasants deeds to land, might in fact be the best model for Haiti. By allowing Haitians to have land, and to perhaps give them low-interest loans and assistance in building simple homes, it might be possible to reconstruct Port au Prince, while hopefully encouraging others to leave to city and take residence in the countryside. Although environmentally challenged, Haiti still manages to produce a prodigious amount of food, as evidenced by the “te marchen,” or small merchants, who were quick to return to the streets of the capitol after the earthquake.

Where the land for the poor might come from is a question as elusive as the question of an election scheduled to take place later this year. Preval has said that he wants to remain in office into the resources are allocated. Critics have said that he represents the culture of patronage and corruption that led to the current crisis in Haiti.

Its hopeful that the groundwork will be laid for making the important decisions in a meeting Wednesday of the donor nations, who must decide how to spend an estimated 3.1 billion US dollars that have already been pledged for the next 18 months. But Morse, among others,
himself questions whether those who have already failed Haiti can be expected to carry the lead in rebuilding the country. And for many in the refugee camps, change needs to be made sooner rather than later. As one resident of the Petionville “golf course” camp, Jacques Joseph, 31, told me last month while gesturing at the steep hills of the golf course, “the rain won’t wait, and when it comes much of this may be gone.”

About Tatiana Plotnikova: Born in Leningrad, Russia. Active as a photographer since 2008.
Graduated from the St.Petersburg Economical University with a degree in Accounting and Audit, and the St.Petersburg Politechnical University with a degree in Graphic design.
In 2006-2008 studied at the St.Petersburg Photojournalism Faculty in Sergey Maximishin group.
At present – Tatiana is an independent photographer focusing her attention on a social photography.
You can reach her by email at: plotnikovoy@yandex.ru

 

There is no water any more, only a salty, rotten corpse. Shrimp farming has choked off the very foundation of coastal agriculture. The land, birds, fishes, insects, everything has been burnt away by the tyranny of brackish water.The historic relationship between life and water has been ignored by destructive agricultural and fishing policy, with no regard to the knowledge or needs of local people. Starting in 1974, the saline levels of this land increased by a multiple of six within two decades. The state’s development policy has always treated this region, adjacent to the Bay of Bengal and Sunderban (the largest mangrove forest in the world), as marginal and unworthy. But even in a neglected condition, the region is an important source of remittance to the national treasury. This is also the area that protects geographic frontiers, absorbing the full brunt of calamities like Cyclone Sidr.

In the 1980s, water was first sealed off into enclosures, to begin commercial shrimp farming. A 1994 government order, arbitrarily passed without discussion, declared the entire coast available for shrimp farming. Farmers were ousted from their land, becoming internal refugees who turn to day labor. Men and women had numerous occupations in the old marshland. But now, only a few people are needed for shrimp farming.

Once, local plants such as Beulo, Chhamna, Bhotka, Narargoaj, Chechoa, and Kachury would rot in rainy season and mix with the earth, releasing a rich diversity of plant and crops: Lalgeti, Khajur Chhari, Germuri, Hogla, Dadshail, Meligour, Horkocha, Jhingeyshail, Banshphul, Dudhemota, HoldeyBbatali, Koijuri, Gopalbhog, Chotna Khajurchhari, Chaprail, Boyangoti, Katarangi, Ashfal, Sholir Pona, Nona Balam, Narikel Muchi, Porbot Balai, Ghunshi, Panbot, Pankhagi, Kakshil, Dheukamini, Begun Bichi, Taal Mugur, Boyar Baat, Balam, Akanda, Motageti. But the beginning of the end was the so-called green revolution, invented by the International Rice Research Institute and CGIR. Hybrid seeds and high yield Ufshi rice flexed commercial muscle, ousting local rice varieties. Shrimp farming followed, bleeding the ploughing lands and permanently destroying the fish habitat. Bowal, Bain, Beley, Mourala, Shol, Koi, Chang, Betla, Falui and many other species of fish faced extinction from the brine onslaught. Shedding their memories like feathers, the local birds flew away forever. No more would we see the Bali Haash, Pankouri, Kingfisher, Kaath- Moyur, or Chandana. Once famous for quality dairy products like sweets, curds, ghee, the entire area is now devoid of livestock.

In the southwest region, the air is heavy with brine. The entire Shrimp enclosure area is becoming unbearably hot. In the summer days, sweat vanishes, living white marks from dry salt on skin.Tigers find forests empty of food and are forced to enter human localities. People in forest localities are also fleeing, to the towns, to the unknown, all in search of work. The Farakka Dam in the upstream area has accelerated the invasion of salt and silt, damaging the mangrove forest itself. The Sundari trees that give the forest a name are dying. The Shulo, a unique forest specimen, cannot reach the dazzle of sunlight because of muddy water.

 

Six million people are going through a disaster caused by lack of fresh water. But shops are selling bottled water along with soft drinks like Coca Cola and Pepsi. It seems there will be no fresh water for public use, except in bottles manufactured by corporations like Vivendi, Thames, Ondeo, Pepsico, Kona Nigari and others. Water is a crucial political commodity, which can be used to control a state and its people. There is no end to World Bank, Asian Development Bank and donor funded water projects, but the knowledge, decisions or demands of local people are never considered in these mega projects.

 

But the people continue their historical survival process even in midst of devastation. By adopting indigenous methods, such as preserving rainwater, filtering water or collecting the flow of fresh water. They devote prayers to local mythical figures like Khowaz Khizir, saint of water; Ganga, goddess of river; and Bonbibi, protector of the forest. In local philosophies there are also embedded clues to regain lost resources of fresh water. In a changing climate world, we must pay heed to the alternative knowledge and perspective of indigenous people. Water is not just an unquestionable commodity, but also a part of living. Until the state can recognize water as life, these practices of destroying fresh water will continue and people’s sovereign rights over water will not be established.

Text: Pavel Partha. Translation: Naeem Mohaiemen

Munem Wasif is a documentary photographer born in Bangladesh (1983), graduate of Pathshala. Wasif started his photographic career as a feature photographer for the Daily Star, a leading English daily of Bangladesh. After that, he works two years with DrikNEWS (International news photo agency) as a staff photographer. Now he is represented through Agency VU in Paris. His photographs have been published in numerous national and international publications including Le Monde 2, Sunday times Magazine, Guardian, Politiken, Io Donna, Days Japan, L'expresso, Librations’, Courier international, Photo, British journal of photography, PDN, Lens Culture, Area, Camera work, Himal Southasian, Asian Geographic, Photo District News, Zonezero, PDFX12 and The Daily Star. In 2008, he won International Award for concerned photography F25 of the Fabrica for his extensive work on Old Dhaka. In 2007, he was selected for the World Press Photo Joop Swart Masterclass in the Netherlands which was followed by the workshop for Asian photographers at the Angkor Photo Festival where he was guided by photographers like Antoine D'agata. Recently he won "City of Perpignan Young Reporter's Award 2008" at VISA POUR L'IMAGE in France. His work is exhibited worldwide His work is exhibited worldwide including Palais de tokoy, International Photography Biennial of the Islamic World in Iran, Fotofreo- festival of photography in Australia, Chobimela in Bangladesh, Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography in Japan and VISA POUR L'IMAGE in Perpignan. In 2009 Won Prixpictet Commission to record a project on Water in Bangladesh.

Adam Ferguson, an Australian photojournalist and member of the VII Mentor program, has captured an emotion that I think has been proved illusive for many photographers– the war weariness of the average soldier, a weariness that is alluded to in words, but rarely shown in the one-sided coverage of Iraq and Afghanistan. Just to be clear, the one sidedness is not caused by an unwillingness of journalists to take risks– it is one sided because only half the conflict is accessible to someone not willing to risk, to paraphrase Eros Hoagland, a photographer for the NYTimes, having one’s head end up alongside one’s body. Embeds are forced through a narrow window, pushed by the army toward its own spin on the war. Sometimes the troops seem too fresh, too clean, and the coverage sanitized by the rules of the embed– essentially calling for no dead, on either side, on either side. These are wars in which deaths have become inconvenient facts, with even the caskets, until recently, of limits to photographers. Remarkably news agencies have been willing to accept these restrictions, even in the years when thousands of American came home in body bags, and have run stories with no mention of the conditions under which the reports have been made.

The military shapes the coverage in Afghanistan in the way that an advertising agency might create a campaign for a Fortune 500 company. Not that there is anything wrong with the military doing its job. Its just that the war is impossible to report in another way. By embedding in a far off outpost in Afghanistan, Ferguson was able to gain an intimacy with his subjects that might not have been possible under more watchful eyes. Or perhaps he just got lucky and found a group of soldiers that was more willing to let me look under the robo-cop suits that US soldiers wear in Afghanistan.

As someone who cut his teeth in the photo business looking through the file cabinets at Black Star in the 70′s, I was very familiar with the work of Robert Ellison and Larry Burrows. I had pulled their slides out of plastic sleeves, peered at them through loupes, against bright light boxes, edited the images and sent them off to Time and Newsweek. Looking at Ferguson’s work cross my computer screen, I felt as though I had seen some of these images before, and perhaps I had, as Adam points out quite astutely that all the photographers of conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq are influenced by the work that has come before them, the images of Matthew Brady, World War II, and the great war photographers of Vietnam, many who paid for their work with their lives.

Adam Ferguson was recently part of a recent on-line symposium held by Centre for Documentary Practice in Australia, an entity that exists under the auspices of Griffith University in Australia, and publishes the Australian PhotoJournalist, an annual journal that seeks to address issues affecting photojournalists.

What follows is a transcription of Adam’s introductory comments, questions asked of him by the panel, and follow-up answers to questions that I presented to Adam last week.

Here are Adam’s comments:

“I am going to present two stories that explore the lives of US troops in remote areas of Afghanistan. Both stories are part of an ongoing documentation of life on the front lines in Afghanistan. The remote areas where troops are stations far from the military flag-pole, in valleys and on mountain-tops reveal the most about the occupation of Afghanistan. They are the corners of the world where details are hidden and guards are left down.

I’d like to make a point that this is embedded photography and I make no claim to present a balanced view of the conflict. This coverage is subjective. When the troops patrol I go with them, and in a sense we are in it together. Its common knowledge that insurgents do not want journalists to go with them. Many insurgents direct their own stories through the web and are ideologically opposed to non-Muslims. So as an Australian my access to the war is limited, so I am with the troops. Eating and sleeping. And in a sense I am a sympathizer, and let me be clear about that, I am not a sympathizer of the war, I am a sympethizer of the grunt. So my work isn’t pro-war, its intended to be anti-war, and its intended to highlight the people doing their job, and to look at their aspirations as soldiers.

Eight years after the US led invasion of Afghanistan there is no resolution in sight, and when I embedded with the troops they were confused and they talk about it. US President Obama has the dilemma of whether to increase or decrease the presence in Afghanistan. The morale is low in the outposts. Many troops joined the Army in the spirit of post-9/11 nationalism, but they have trouble seeing how their fight relates to a larger war on terror. Our government, and the media as well, use words like Al Queda and Taliban as generalizations, often generalizations that help justify the war. They simplify an enemy and the simplify the conflict. Military intelligence officers have often pointed out to me that the bad guys, the US troops refer to the enemy as “the bad guys” are locals, so essentially the US invasion of Afghanistan was justified as a hunt for Bin Laden, Al Queda it was an attempt to stabilize a country that supported terrorism. But when the troops realized that the enemy they are fighting is in fact local, and there is little presence of foreign fighters or Al Queda, they become disillusioned. The Taliban are a splintered group of miltants that I believe is very hard to define. The troops get injured and they wonder why. As they serve they try and understand how its working in a larger sense. The see that the fight is futile. And they ultimately understand that they are not wanted by the locals. They enter these valleys, these remote areas and the locals do not want them there.

I am trying to personalize the soldiers experience, and I guess the challenge in doing this, the challenge in photographing war, is telling an audience something that they don’t already know about it. War can be inherently mundane, and the trick that I have found is to capture moments within this boredom, this lack of drama that can symbolize isolation to an audience. One of the things that I realized about war as I started to cover Afghanistan is that many of the troops perceptions about war are informed by Hollywood. I can recall a number of conversations with troops in which they talk about movies like Black Hawk Down and how movies like this inspired them to be soldiers. The reality of war is obviously very different– there is little glory or heroism. One is the main motivations for the work I undertake is to dispute the romantization of Hollywood movies and other miss-conceptions about war that exist within popular culture. I wish to leave a record that will inform an audience of my experience of war, in the hopes that this document will change perceptions about war.
As an embedded photographer you become somewhat an accomplice of the troops. When they storm a house you go in too. You run with them side by side to get the pictures. You don’t take your shoes off as is the local custom. So as a photographer sometimes I feel like an intruder. Is the document you create worth this intrusion?
Maybe, maybe not. But in the moment you are no different than a soldier and you have to reconcile that.

And then you are out walking again in broad spaces and you are wondering again, is the work worth the personal risk, does the work stimulate change or a deeper understanding of the war. Photography did in previous conflicts, Vietnam, photographs helped sway public opinion, they rallied an anti-war sentiment. (Editors Note: this was true at the end of the conflict but for the most part the news media during the Vietnam War was either pro-war or neutral.) This set of pictures that I am showing recently received a large amount of space in one of the largest news magazines in America, coupled with an on-line presentation. As far as publishing through print and an online news presentation, this work received a maximun amount of play. Despite all of this I am not sure that my pictures will have an immediate impact on the war or an impact on decisions that are made about it in the near future. My inspiration to become a photographer and to cover a conflict came from the tradition of the magazine photographer people whose pictures did make a difference, but I think in a sense we live in a world that is a little more complacent, its a different time, and while the web allows us to engage with more audiences than before, and it gives us advantages as story tellers, it also overwhelms our readers with triviality. In a sense the journalism get lost in the crowd, the people who care and want to know find out stories, but when I say it gets lost, it gets lost to the others and they could be our most important audience. My career as a photographer is relatively, young, so what I showed today is a work in progress, its the start of a long journey, but I don’t see my work as something that stimulate immediate change on the war in Afghanistan. But that doesn’t make my work, or the work of any other photographers who cover conflict, any less important. It actually makes it more important. Its our visual history and the work will still be there in a historical sense. What I am trying to say is that we may be able to create tangible change today, tommorow, or even in two or three years, but if we continue to tell our stories, one day eventually they will be heard. In depth and independent accounts will not let us forget the mistakes that we have made as a global community and one could only hope that it could lead is to more confirmed and considered actions in the future.

(The following questions were presented to Adam by participants in the on-line seminar.)

Could these images have been made without being embedded?

No, they couldn’t have been, so all of these pictures were made and facilitated by the US Army.

Were you embedded as an independent, or as part of the VII Mentor Program?

I essentially embedded as an independent, but I had the support of Time Magazine.

I think its a struggle when you are embedded, you go through these moments of fear, you are embedded with the troops but you are there by choice. Its hard work, I don’t mean to harp about myself and my own emotions, but I guess you kind of put that into the work, everyone else is just as confused as you are, the troops are as confused as you are, and you talk about that with the soldiers, you talk about the confusion and you know the lack of clarity that everyone feels, and the discontent that people feel for the decisions that have been made in Afghanistan, and I try and create that isolation in my pictures.

Did you work with writers on this assignment?

I have the privilege of working with some really good picture editors at Time. The first group of pictures that I took, we worked as a team, and navigated that story. She wrote about Afghanistan in a broader sense, and we used pictures that I found on the ground to narrate that story in a broader sense. The second set of pictures, that was my baby, and I had the opportunity to push it visually, and try and find pictures that don’t normally make it into the mainstream press and a magazine, and try and develop those pictures over a period of three weeks.

I have deliberately referenced some of the photography that was taken in Vietnam in some of my pictures, and I guess I have used this in a sense that Afghanistan is being labeled as Obama’s Vietnam. And if I can find things that reference that war, I have tried to do that in a sense, and thats purely to create a visual that will push something to the public and maybe get them thinking in a pro-active way.

How did the soldiers feel about your being there?

Adam: The soldiers are very media savvy so if I start to photograph a local in a circumstance that shows them to be a victim there has been times where a soldier has objected to me doing that, and they tend to think that you are showing a negative view of the war, or showing the soldiers in a bad light, by showing the way they victimize the people of Afghanistan. The soldiers can get upset about that. Most of the time you just try and be as subtle as possible, and if the situation heats up a bit the soldiers tend to focus on what they are doing and you are left on your own.

Has your perception of the war changed?

Adam: The longer that I have spent there the more that I come to understand that our governments justify the war there by referring to this larger terrorist network but I tend to think that is a fallacy and the more I spend time there the more I speak to military intelligence officers the more that I come to understand it a very flawed concept. Whats going on in Afghanistan is that there are so many tribal areas and little isolated communities that don’t want an outside influence so when troops roll into these places in Robocop outfits there is a local objection, and thats a cultural thing more than it is some axis of evil, or some terrorist network that is trying to topple the West.

Are there so many embeds that we are creating a media circus of images?

Adam: I am not sure if there is a media circus for images, but what I see is that people fail to stay for longterm trips so there a lot of pictires that flood the wires, but I don’t think there is a flood of images of people who are trying to penetrate the daily life of the troops.

I thought that I heard you mention that the grunts were ordered
to shave daily because they were being photographed, even where water
was not plentiful. If so, what are we to infer from this kind of
seeming micro-management?

Adam- I think it is actually management on a large scale. The soldiers get in trouble with their superiors if they are documented breaking military protocol, their superiors have been spoken to by their superiors, and so on. The U.S. Army has an ingrained Public Affairs system. I think we can infer from this that there is awareness in the military of media representation and the power it can have, and they try to control it. The military has learnt from coverage in the past that has damaged their public image. This has happened with things more extreme, like the execution of a puppy dog, and simple things like not shaving. Although, I have found if I spend enough time on a small Combat Operations Post the guys let their guard down.

You said that you consciously referred to images from the Vietnam War
in your photography. Can you think of any particular images from any
specific photographers that you have alluded to in your work?

Adam: One naturally stumbles across scenes in war that feel and look very Vietnam. They look this way because of both a mental bank of photojournalism that we have of Vietnam, and images we have in our minds that are drawn from popular culture – movies, writing, possibly even music. I definitely try to dispute many notions about war that exist in popular culture, but there is also so much symbolism found in war because we have seen in represented so many times. I think a photographer can use this symbolism as an advantage when trying to make a statement about war.

There are photos captured by Larry Burrows, the one of Marines in Prayer, standing in a line looking down, that I had in my mental image bank. It is a very unsensational moment that he captured very viscerally. The conflict in Afghanistan is not as intense as Vietnam, there are not the amount of civilian and military casualties (I don’t mean to underplay the tragedies that happen there because they do) and there is an immense amount of time when there is no action, just boredom. I definitely attempted to capture the intensity in my images that Burrows captured in his quieter photographs. I am making this reference because photojournalism helped stimulate a public response that is attributed to the withdrawal from Vietnam. There is no clear success in the U.S. occupation, as there wasn’t in Vietnam, and if I can make an emotional parallel between the two wars it may help the cause of asking the voting tax paying civilian population to ask a few more questions of the coalition presence. Although Afghanistan and Vietnam are very different wars on the ground, they personify a confused long-term war commitment of the U.S. I am also aware that we live in different times now, but at the very least if this parallel can be drawn in a historical context, it may shape the way a public reacts to future military invasions.

The similarities between Vietnam and Afghanistan are often debated by
the right and left in the United States. Do the soldiers voice any
opinions about how their job relates to the one done by US soldiers?

Adam:

I can’t recall soldiers relating their experiences to Vietnam, or showing an awareness of any similarities between the wars in any articulate way worth mentioning.

Is there a single image that could possibly change public opinion
about the war in Afghanistan. If you could imagine such a picture
what would it look like, who could take it, and could it pass through
the rules that the military has instituted for photo embeds?
Or could the image be made by someone not in an embed?

Adam: A child killed in an ISAF air-strike being held by their grieving mother, or maybe a wounded soldier moments before death. They would be graphic, in color, and used on the cover and homepage of some major news organizations. Maybe I am being idealistic but I do my job in the belief that images will change public opinion, if not today or tomorrow, in the future, a record is made that will be considered. I guess any competent photographer caring and daring enough to be there could take such an image. The picture of the soldier wouldn’t pass military rules, photographers are not supposed to photograph dead soldiers that can be recognized. It would a face, an identity, somebody we can relate, to stir public opinion. There has been photos like the ones I describe taken, but they have been seen by enough people, so have not changed public opinion. News outlets need to be a little braver with what they publish, I think the public needs to be shocked.

Do we really understand war? What is the purpose of war if the
ideology seems so skewed and the basic tenets so flawed, as I think
they are in Afghanistan. What is the purpose? Ideology, business,
power?

Adam: I don’t think we understand war in a present context, or if we do we choose not to because we are not ready to understand it’s stark realities. When we look at war in a historical context we see that war has been used as a mechanism of colonialism.

As a photographer, what do you see yourself doing in 20 years?

Adam: Living somewhere very green and close to the beach. Experiencing places where the quality of life isn’t good, by that I mean pollution, violence and poverty, and also spending a lot of time away, traveling, feeling isolated, one tends to crave a more grounded earthy existence, well at least I do. I also hope to have produced a few significant bodies of work that I consider a positive contribution to our visual history.

What music is in your ipod, if you have one? What is your favorite band?

Adam: Radiohead, Powderfinger, Damien Rice, Sarah Blasko, Dr. Dog, Paul Kelly, The Smiths…..and much more. I like such a diverse range of music that it’s hard to have a favorite.

Thanks.

Adam Ferguson was born and grew up in New South Wales, Australia. He received a Bachelor of Photography from Australia’s Griffith University in 2004, and in 2006 he interned with VII Photo Agency in Paris, going on to work as Gary Knight’s assistant. In 2007 Adam moved to New Delhi, India, where he is currently based, working as freelance photographer covering South Asia.

Adam’s work has explored the many tensions, both social and political, that undermine the images of an economically booming India. Recently, he has focused on the war in Afghanistan.

Adam’s photographs have been published internationally by Time Magazine, Newsweek, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, International Herald Tribune, The Chicago Tribune, Courrier International, The Financial Times Magazine, The Sydney Morning Herald, UNICEF and Human Rights Watch.

In 2009 he was selected as one of the Photo District News 30 Emerging Photographers to Watch and joined the VII Mentor Program working under Christopher Morris.

(Thanks to Allan Hill, online Online Editor Centre for Documentary Practice for providing 100Eyes with the video of the interview. You can join the Centre’s Facebook page at by following this link. You can also see more of Adam Ferguson’s work on his website, http://www.adamferguson.com or on VII’s website http://www.viiphoto.com.

No where can the intense diversification of American faith be better seen and understood than in Flushing, Queens in New York City.

According to R. Scott Hanson, author of the book, “City of Gods: Religious Freedom, Immigration, and Pluralism in Flushing, Queens—New York City, 1945-2001,” there are over 200 places of worship in the borough. Religion is literally on display on the streets of this chaotic urban community. Economically devasted in the 1970s, Flushing was reborn by Asian businesses and residents leaving the
overflowing Chinatown of Manhattan; new immigrants found friendly faces and cheap housing on the outskirts of the city. Unqiue zoning laws allowed for the proliferation of houses of worship and as immigration grew and became more diverse, a perfect set of circumstances gave way to the most religiously diverse spot on the planet.

I’ve spent time documenting a selection of religious communities from the oldest, Quakers, to the newest at the China Buddhist Association whose temples serves mostly new Chinese immigrants to the active and flourishing Hindu Temple Society of North America (the first Hindu Temple in the U.S.). As new groups settle into the fabric of the community, established churches have evolved to incorporate new languages and traditions such as St. George’s Episcopal church and Bowne Street Community Church which both incorporate Taiwanese and Latin American traditions along with their more commonplace English language and American traditions. While the Eastern faiths and faces are flourishing, some of the older established communities struggle to maintain their place in the evolving landscape. Most of the Jewish synagogues’ memberships are in rapid decline as Jews move farther out in the suburbs. Temple Gates of Prayer is the most active and vibrant synagogues in this part of Flushing due in large part to the leadership of charismatic Rabbi Albert Thaler.

I have documented rituals and everyday moments that bind followers of various faith traditions. A deep connection to a faith’s spiritual roots as well as the strong bonds of fellowship are the core of these communities regardless of faith doctrines. I have tried to steer clear of what I feel is previously known or understood as well as trying to dispell some stereotypes, all the while tapping into the intense beliefs and joyous celebration of believers. A man praying silently during the Lunar New Year blends in perfectly well on the streets of the city, his red fleece vest providing no hint of his Buddhist faith. Faith is so much more than doctrine, didaticism and costume, although seeing Rabbi Thaler dressed as a nun in his annual outlandish Purim actions
was a fantastic moment of levity and life. A reminder that religion does not need to be an uptight,
solemn practice.

The relative peace and calm of such a diverse and densely populated community as Flushing is a testament to a multicultural society. It is noteworthy to see what’s possible when the profound but paralyzing battles between faiths are supplanted by the equal space for mundane everyday practices of life, work and prayer.

was raised in Dallas as a New Yorker in exile. Nothing at all wrong with Texas, I now pine for quality Tex-Mex and that slightly crispy feeling on your skin as the summer sun broils it to a crisp. While lost in Liberal Arts at the University of Texas-Austin, I discovered photography and all the doors that it could open along with the power and impact of creating images. After grad school at the University of Missouri, I began a generally successful 10-year career in newspapers which included some awards – NPPA Region 5 Photographer of the Year, POYi's Community Awareness Award, First Place People in the News in World Press Photo and three Pulitzer Prize nominations. After meeting my New York City born-and-bred wife in North Carolina, I left newspapers and relocated to the Northeast eventually settling in, and loving, Philadelphia where I now live with Caroline and our one-year-old son Ari.

 

 

For more of Brenda’s work follow this link to her website

Albinism comes from the Latin word albus, meaning “white”. It is a hypopigmentary congenital disorder, characterized by a partial lack of melanin pigment in the eyes, skin and hair, and very rarely, in the eyes alone. The eyes, however, appear pink or red because the blood vessels in the iris and retina reflect light, whereas in normally coloured individuals they are hidden by pigment. Albino people have very defective vision and their eyes are extremely sensitive to light. The skin is very white and never tans, so that sunburn is much more serious than in ordinary blondes.

Albinism is hereditary; it is not an infectious disease and cannot be transmitted through, blood transfusions and contact for instance. The principal gene, which results in albinism, prevents the body from making the usual amounts of the pigment melanin. Most forms of albinism are the result of the biological inheritance of genetically recessive alleles (genes) passed from both parents of an individual, though some uncommon forms are inherited from only one parent.

However, because organisms can be carriers of genes for albinism without exhibiting any traits, two non-albinistic parents can produce albinistic offspring. Albinism generally occurs with the same frequency in both genders. An exception to this is optical albinism, because it is passed on to offspring through X-linked inheritance. Thus, males more frequently have ocular albinism as they do not have a second X chromosome.

There are two main categories of albinism in humans:

• In oculocutaneous albinism (despite its Latin-derived name meaning “eye-and-skin” albinism), pigment is lacking in the eyes, skin and hair. People with oculocutaneous albinism can have anywhere from no pigment at all to almost-normal levels.

• In ocular albinism, only the eyes lack pigment. People who have ocular albinism have generally normal skin and hair colour, and many even have a normal eye appearance.

As mentioned before, in physical terms, albinos usually have vision problems and need sun protection. Nevertheless, they also have to face, very often, social and cultural challenges because of their ‘special’ human condition that frequently cause them a source of ridicule, discrimination, or even fear and violence. Cultures around the world have developed many beliefs concerning people with albinism. This folklore ranges from harmless myth to dangerous superstitions that cost human lives. Furthermore, brutal discrimination almost always happens in less developed countries where the general scientific knowledge of such occurrences are not widespread and superstition takes hold. It is also more frequent in countries where the skin colour varies from people with albinism the most likely because they are more easily differentiated from the general population. Portrayals of people with albinism in literature and films have historically rarely been positive. This fact is sometimes referred to as the “evil albino” stereotype, or albino bias from other people, although one must recognize them as normal human being with physical problems as other have differently perhaps.
These pictures have been taken mainly in Argentina, Spain, United Kingdom.

Paola de Grenet

After finishing her studies in Graphic Design (London, Camberwell College of Arts) Paola de Grenet started working as a photographer in 1999. Currently she lives and works in Barcelona. Her works has been published in England (The Guardian, The Sunday Times, publishers Hodder & Stoughton, Penguin, MacMillan), Spain (Ojo de Pez, El Magazine-La Vanguardia, Woman, Elle) and U.S.A. (Virginia Quarterly Review). She won the prestigious grant FotoPres (La Caixa, Barcelona) and the competition LICC (London) amongst others. Her works focuses mainly on portraiture and reportage. Since 2008 Paola has been a member of Posse.

For the past five decades, magicians, acrobats, jugglers, musicians, dancers and puppeteers have migrated from all over India to the small illegal settlement. Nearly all of the 1,500-3,000 (depending on who you ask) families in the colony are professional performing artists. Many have found success operating at 5-star hotels in India and at Cultural Festivals abroad, but they continue to return to their homes in the cramped, dirty streets of Kathputli. But these are also the streets where friends entertain each other by turning a burning piece of paper into a crisp 100 rupee note. Where the sounds of tablas and singing can always be heard in the distance. And where a daughter and father can be seen on a rooftop practicing magic…

Zackary Canepari

Zackary Canepari is a American photojournalist who has worked extensively in India.

Detroit was once an icon of America’s prosperity. The town was one of the best manufacturing hubs in the U.S.. However, Detroit is now in a serious economic crisis. About one-third of the city lies vacant. As many of the populations relay on the big three U.S automakers, General Motors, Ford and Chrysler, those are facing the possible default. The three, to chase the survival, have already announced to close a big portion of their plants, resulting in many unemployment people. Detroit’s unemployment rate has reached 20 percent or so. Plus, due to such this big economic crisis, foreclosurers and crimes have dramatically increased. Moreover, the situation might be worse. The Obama administration, on March 30th, forced General Motors Corp’s chief executive to quit and pushed Chrysler LLC toward a merger, threatening bankruptcy for both. If the U.S. government lets the auto-makers fall into bankruptcy, many of Detroit communities would be really vanished.

At the age of 30 Brenda Ann Kenneally read a book about Diane Arbus, a photojournalist, that inspired her to begin higher education at Broward Community College. She later transferred to the University of Miami where she graduated with a degree in sociology and photojournalism. She subsequently a Master’s Degree in Studio Art from New York University. Kenneally currently resides in Brooklyn, NY, where she works as a freelance photojournalist. Her current project, “Upstate Girls,” chronicles the lives of six teenaged women in Troy, NY. This project earned Brenda the 2008 Canon Female Photojournalist Award. The award was presented to Kenneally on September 6, 2008 at the 20th Visa pour l’Image International Festival of Photojournalism in Perpignan, France.