Tag Archives: photojournalism

He Prepares A Table For Me…

I’ve had a number of things on my mind lately that I’d like to write about, but I decided tonight to go back to the basics and tell a story of my travels. Specifically I’m going back four years to my last journey to South Sudan. At the time, South Sudan was the second most dangerous country in the world, and was quickly devolving to number one, which is where it currently stands. I’d like to be able to give reasons for why this is the case, but that would take volumes to describe. This being a blog, I fully expect to lose almost everyone if I go over 1000 words. If you’d like to know more about the how and why of the situation in South Sudan, feel free to look back through the archives where I write about it at length.

Staying put in South Sudan is not so bad. And if you have the opportunity to take a small plane where you need to go, you can avoid most of the danger, minus that of actually flying in poorly maintained small Russian planes.

The problem is when you have to travel the roads, and this is what we had to do. There was a village we had neglected to visit the last time we were there, and it was necessary to go and visit this time, despite the fact that the situation had gotten worse in the last six months since we’d been in country. The problem was two-fold. The first issue was what are known as “black snakes”. These are not literal snakes, though those exist as well, but rather armed bandits that wait along the road with Kalashnikovs for an easy looking target or a vehicle that has gotten separated. They then stop the vehicle and in the best case they only rob you. This is an ever present danger of road travel in South Sudan.

The other, more pressing problem was that of the White Army. An army of mostly children and teenagers from the Nuer tribe, they rub ashes on their faces as an insect repellent, hence the “white” moniker. They had been emboldened by the renegade vice-president and occasional war-lord of South Sudan, Riek Machar, to attack and raid villages of their cattle. The village we were visiting was directly in their path, and the only road back was in their territory. So to say the least, we were concerned about our road travel, especially since it would be nearing darkness as we were returning.

Many seemingly daunting or hopeless situations are punctuated by the simple phrase, “but God.” This one was no different. Normally I avoid soldiers in developing nations as much as possible, especially in South Sudan, where loyalties change at the drop of a hat. As Sung Tzu so famously wrote in “The Art of War”, “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

As we turned out of the village along the Nile onto the rutted dirt road, a cattle truck full of SPLA soldiers was passing. We hung back a bit, but drove within sight of the truck the entire way back. Their presence offered a deterrent to any would-be attackers for the whole journey. As I thought about it later, a couple of things came to mind. Part of Psalm 23 was one of them.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;”

The table prepared came in the form of a cattle truck full of soldiers, and I was thankful for it. I managed to snap this clandestine picture as we drove.

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Revisiting The Terrifying Sound Of Silence.

When I write this blog, I always have to be aware that everything I observe is as an outsider. As such, my thoughts on everything African should be treated as suspect, even if the opinions I express are informed. So I take it as a blessing when something I have written in the past is confirmed by an African source, even if I’d rather the subject was not true. That happened this week, as a friend of mine in South Sudan wrote a small piece. His name is Manyang Mayar, and he’s a journalist.

Four years ago, I laid in a hammock in Bor, South Sudan, trying to sleep. I was unable to sleep though, because the noise was keeping me up. I wrote down an observation at that time that has been one of the most commented on since then. This short entry was written as an outsider coming into South Sudan. This week Manyang wrote a piece from the perspective of an insider going out of South Sudan. I’m going to post mine first, then his. I think you’ll find the two perspectives enlightening.

The Terrifying Sound Of Silence.

Just a short post as I sweat here in my hammock. As I lay here in complete darkness, but hearing music in the background, I’m reminded again of an observation made on my first visit and only confirmed since then. The South Sudanese hate silence. They listen to music all night. When they’re in a car they crank the stereo up until it distorts. You can be standing in a group of people having a conversation, and one of them will start blasting a song from their cell phone. It’s as if they think as long as there’s music or noise, things are ok. That bad things only happen during the night, when things are silent and dark, and terrible things come out of the darkness and silence. When it’s dark and silent, that’s when the attacks come, when children and cattle are stolen. It’s when the snakes crawl into your bed for warmth. It’s as if as long as there’s noise, things are alright. It’s like children who are afraid of monsters, only here the monsters are real. There’s been a lot of talk here about insecurity, about the attacks that come from cattle raiders, and the fact that they’re not far away.  70 people were killed here just last week in cattle raids, and people go to bed afraid. And so I think of that as I lay here in my hammock, wishing for silence.

And now Manyang’s article. This was used with permission.

A night out of Juba is worth good meal of hundred years.

First Published in PaanLuel Wel. For those who could not access the site in Juba.

By Manyang David Mayar, Eldoret, Kenya

(SSB 7 January 2018) I just discovered why my fellow South Sudanese who travel outside of the country’s capital return to Juba healthier compared to the time they left Juba.

For the past many years, I have been seeing some South Sudanese leaving Juba to East African Countries in order to spend their holidays. Sometimes others go for training or for studies in Nairobi or Kampala, Addis Ababa or China and other foreign countries. Most of them fly out of Juba International Airport or cross through the Nimule border with a rough skin and wrinkled faces. But when they return, they come back home with smooth skin; looking fresh and healthier than the time they left Juba.

I have been wondering what could it be – the thing that improves people’s health instantly in the foreign countries. I used to think it might be the cold nice weather in those countries that improve their health, or it might be the nice food or perhaps the free public transport that you don’t need to fight for like in Juba. Fortunately, a time came for me to experience the secret myself.

After spending some few nights outside of Juba recently in one of the East African countries, I had a chance to discover the secret of why South Sudanese become healthier when they are out of Juba.

Sleeping in one of the estates in one of the Kenyan towns, I experienced the calm and peace that my soul and spirit had been longing for. Every evening after I take my shower and eat (just the same maize flour and ngete, the same food I eat in Juba), I go to bed and sleep until morning.

There was no time in the night that a sound of bullet from robbers woke me up. I didn’t have to pause my breath at midnight in order to pay attention to some little sounds outside. And when my bladder has accumulated urine, I wake up easily and go to the urinary without any worry at all. And during the past few days that I have been here, I have found that relaxation and peace of mind that I, like most other South Sudanese, don’t really find back home.

In Juba, after taking my shower and have taken my evening meal, I go to bed. I spend many hours paying attention to little sound happening outside. It could be a wind blowing those empty bottles outside, or some of those wild cats and dogs stepping on some metals. But because my subconscious mind is full of stories about how unknown gunmen had raided the other house, I don’t usual catch my sleep and rest easily.

Worse of it all is when my bladder becomes full of urine. When this happens, I usually open my eyes into the dark and throw my ears outside to access the situation. Is there someone moving, could there be someone waiting for me outside? And then my heart will start pumping. Because of those thoughts, I sometimes convince myself that the morning is soon approaching and that I should ignore for just few hours. My bladder would remain hurting until morning.

Some other nights, I carry with me a container to use later at night when urine knocks the door of my bladder. But even though I have a container in the house, you don’t urinate at ease. I first let my ears do the environment check before I make any move in my own house.

This is the life many South Sudanese go through. People in Juba go to bed alive and died through the whole night. And when the daylight breaks, their being alive becomes a reality again. This is the reason they look healthier when they travel outside Juba even if it is just for a week. This is another beauty of peace that we don’t know. That is why some of us are desperately looking for peace.

When we talk about the need for peace, it is not just about stopping war, it is actually about bringing that kind of atmosphere where citizens can sleep at ease in their houses and not worrying about anything at all in their country.

So what is it that make these East African Countries peaceful compared to our country? It is on two simple things: the strong rule of law that crack down the crimes and the hard working citizens who strive to work for themselves.

In my country, the rule of law is weak in combating crimes and people are relying on short cut to get their wealth. Instead of going to the countryside and produce food, majority of unemployed hungry folks remained in the city only to be night robbers. Of course they exploit the chance of the soft rule of law against them. And by doing what they do, they are making most of their fellow citizens especially in Juba get sick each night.

When we choose to embrace peace and hard work, we will experience the very best of our country.

© Manyang_David 2018

Just a quick reminder that if you’d like to read more about my experiences with missions, you can buy my ebook at the following link, as well as at major online sources like Ibooks and Barnes and Noble. The title is “The Missional Life. What I Learned From Engaging in Missions in East Africa.” The proceeds from this book help fund the work I continue to do in Africa.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/704141

A Time For Renewal.

I’ve been back from Ethiopia now for a month and a half. It seems like a very long time ago. Normally by now, I’ve thought of all kinds of things to write about. Honestly though, my passion to write about the subjects I normally write about is at a nadir for the year. This is not because I’m losing interest or passion, but because sometimes you just need some downtime. This year I traveled to Ethiopia three times and spent about a month there in total. When I wasn’t actually traveling, I was either fundraising for those trips, helping other people fundraise for their trips and ministries, and working my photography job. I also helped start a 501 (3)c non-profit organization. I also have a wife and three kids. So to say the least, I’ve been busy this year. My passion for missions is because of gratitude to the God who saved me, and not out of a sense of obligation to look busy. As such, I don’t have a problem taking a vacation once in a while for some renewal.

That renewal came last week, when I traveled by ship to the Caribbean for eight days. I took the whole family with me, traveling to four different islands. We went to the islands of Grand Turk, St. Kitts, Puerto Rico, and the Dominican Republic. I had no phone and no internet for a full week, so there was no checking in with work. There was no Facebook (thank God), no email, and I couldn’t check phone messages. It was wonderful.

I of course took pictures and videos, but it was on my own terms. There were no shot lists, and no one was paying me. I could shoot whatever I wanted to. I could take pictures of beautiful things just because I wanted to. I also took my drone along and was able to get some great aerial shots of each place. I might write a blog on that sometime, but for now, please enjoy my trip of renewal through my eyes. And of course, please feel free to subscribe if you’d like to get emails when there’s an update to my blog.

Gazebo on the sea cliffs in the Dominican Republic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pristine beach on Grand Turk with our ship in the background.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A man painting his roof with a brush in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aerial shot of El Morro fortress in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Panorama of Basseterre, St Kitts at dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ruins overlooking the Caribbean Sea on St Kitts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aerial view of a ship at the edge of a drop-off to deep water in Grand Turk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aerial panorama of the old section of San Juan, Puerto Rico.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A brown booby looks at me as I take its picture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beautiful volcanic sea cliffs of St Kitts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Children play cricket on the island of St Kitts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An iguana stares at me from the fortress walls of El Morro in San Juan.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wreck of the Mega One Triton on the beach in Grand Turk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A cannon points out over the ocean at Brimstone Fortress on St Kitts island.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An old church stands over the sea on the North end of St Kitts.

Seven Years Since It All Started.

Seven years ago, almost to the day, I boarded a flight into the Sudan. I had never been to Africa before, never been to a developing nation, never been involved in missions. I was incredibly green. I didn’t even know enough to know what questions to ask.  All I knew was that God had called me to go. I had a camera with me, and I knew that God had given me the skills to use it.

I look back now and question how effective my work was on those first few trips. I don’t know if much direct and lasting fruit came from my work there. However, in the bigger picture, I know that what I learned from those first difficult trips was incredibly fruitful. It has allowed me to be useful in ways that I never could have imagined. The path I’ve traveled was definitely God ordained, since he put people and organizations in my path that I never would have found without his help.

Having said that, I’d like to thank Linda and Ray at Petros Network for giving me the opportunities to work with them and to use my skills for Kingdom work, and not just for myself.

I’ve been back from Ethiopia now for a few weeks, and I’ve had a chance to go through a lot of the pictures. I’m not satisfied with my work unless I can look at the photos and know that I’ve conveyed the sense of where I’ve been, touched the heart of the people, and done both of those things in a way that I feel is respectful to the subject. I can honestly say this time that I think I was able to do that. As I promised, I’ll be bringing more stories of the things that happened on this most recent pair of back to back trips. For now though, here are a smattering of some of the shots that struck my eye as I went through the thousands of shots. All can be clicked on for a larger view.

Also, since I keep forgetting, here is a link to my ebook that I’ve had out for a while. It covers some of the things I’ve learned on my travels, as well as having lots of photos. Most of the proceeds goes to missions.

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/704141

A child looks through the bars of the Tesfa Center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the women at the Tesfa Center for special programs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This woman’s expressions caught my eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Many people travel by horse in this region of Oromia.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finishing up some very last minute painting at the Tesfa Center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuck in school while there are visitors.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Michelle working with one of my most photogenic widows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sifting green coffee in the market.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ah, worship from the heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beautiful hills of Oromia at dawn.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the orphans. His transformation has been incredible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The coffee ceremony.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In church the morning I found myself having to preach. (for another blog)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love the expressions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More expressions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is no North American or African church. There is only the Church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let Us Not Grow Weary In Doing Good.

I’ve now been home from Ethiopia for almost three weeks. I went straight back into normal life. I shot a wedding with a case of jet lag. Then went on to edit the one I shot right before I left. I’ve had jobs to do just as if I’d never been gone. On top of that, I also had the pictures from Ethiopia to edit, and I’m just getting to some of the ones I shot in September as well. Needless to say, I’m tired. Which is why I have not written until now. It’s certainly not because I lack content. A lot happened on this trip, most of which I hope to write about once I figure out how to convey my thoughts properly.

Though I don’t yet feel completely ready to start writing about the experiences I had on this trip, it’s been long enough, and I need to just start writing.

The first thing I’d like to write about is something that happened the first day of the medical clinic. Medical clinics are always hard, particularly on the first day. That’s the day when the most desperate people show up; the ones who know something is seriously wrong but don’t have the money to go to a doctor. You see a lot of tuberculosis, a lot of cataracts, HIV, thyroid problems, even leprosy.

But one lady just wrecked me. She was dropped off on a donkey by two men, who promptly left. She was elderly, bend over at a 90 degree angle, she was blind from cataracts, and she was extremely agitated. She said she was sixty years old, but if you told me she was ninety, I would not have thought twice about it by looking at her. Even before anyone was able to help her, she was saying if she didn’t get help she was going to kill herself. She said she had no home and no family, and had nowhere to turn.

Looking through the lens gives me a little bit of separation from what’s happening in front of me. Even still, after I was done shooting what was going on in front of me, I had to go find a quiet corner and just cry. After that, I had to compose myself and get back to the tasks at hand. I saw this happening to other people as well. There are plenty of tragic human stories you see in Ethiopia, but the ones where you see no hope in people’s eyes are truly the ones that hurt.

The woman got in to see the doctors, though I don’t think there’s really much they were able to do for her. We didn’t work on cataracts, and I don’t think there was anything they could do for her posture. We didn’t know who had dropped her off, so we also didn’t know what to do with her. Consequently she spent a lot of time in the medical clinic being tended by various people of different backgrounds that day, medical or not. I was also able to keep track of her since I saw so much of her.

It was because of all of this time spent with her that her story began to crack. It turned out she was not alone. She had children, including a son, who had been watching from a distance. She also was not homeless, and apparently also had plenty of food, judging from the amount she kept pulling out of her blouse. (Yes, the story keeps getting stranger.) I heard people say (and honestly felt myself) that it had been foolish to feel such angst over this woman, because she lied to us. But should I have?

I’d like first to say that dealing with the poor and the marginalized is often and usually messy. Sometimes they lie to you. Sometimes they have habits that cause them to be in the situation they are in. Frequently, it can take an emotional toll on you to the point where you begin to look for the emotional “out” if you will. It was for times like this that Paul wrote in Galations, “And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart.” People were feeling foolish for having compassion because she had lied to us, but the fact was that her story was still tragic. She was still blind, still crippled. The desperation she had on her face when she arrived and the tears she shed were real. She lied because she wanted someone to show compassion to her and spend time with her, which is exactly what happened.

Should God feel foolish for having compassion for us when we prayed that, “Lord if you only get me out of this, I’ll do (fill in the blank)?” Of course not. In the same manner that God showed grace to us, we need to show the same grace to others. That is why our creation in the image of God is so profound. In the same manner that God shows grace to us, we should act in grace toward the others around us who are also made in God’s image. This is summed up well in Romans 5. “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Much more then, having now been justified by His blood, we shall be saved from wrath through Him.  For if when we were enemies we were reconciled to God through the death of His Son, much more, having been reconciled, we shall be saved by His life.”

Though there was little we could do for her physically, she met people that day that cared about her. She met people who were willing to listen to her, and people who would sit down and pray for her. She met people who were willing to be the hands and feet and voice of Christ on Earth. She met people that showed the same grace to her as Christ showed to us on the day that “while we were still enemies of God, Christ died for us.”

The November 2017 Show And Tell.

Though I’m not quite home from Ethiopia, I am nevertheless sitting in a Canadian airport where there is good wifi. I had intended to blog while I was in Ethiopia, but I’ve been up in the mountains with very limited internet access, at least on my IPad. This trip has been many things; exhausting, thought-provoking, fullfilling, and hard. It put me way out of my comfort zone at times, which I would have previously said was a hard thing to do. I will be writing about these things in the future, but as is my tradition, my first blog when coming back into the country is one I don’t have to think about very hard. So you get pictures this time, which is what a lot of you are looking for anyway. Many of these I will write about in the future, but for now, you’ll just have to wonder and use your imagination.

Taking A Break Between Trips

Today I’m just writing a short post. In two weeks I head back to Ethiopia. In the meantime, Im spending time with my wife and kids, doing a little traveling, and shooting some pictures and video for no one but me. 

We had intended on camping, with the kids in a tent. However, the remnants of another hurricane are coming through with torrential rain. We’ve had so many hurricanes this season that I don’t even know the name of this one. However, it did change our plans slightly in that we rented a cabin instead of tenting.

One of the things we traveled to see is waterfalls in North Carolina. The bonus of the hurricane is that all the rivers, and consequently the waterfalls, are roaring. There’s a silver lining to every dark cloud. So here is the first of the shots that I took today. Until next time, when I’ll likely be on a plane over the Atlantic.

Eleven

I have now been back from Ethiopia for about twelve days. For anyone who has ever been concerned about getting sick in Africa, don’t be. If you’re going to get sick, it’s going to be on the plane either going or coming back. I managed to stay healthy for the entire trip despite lack of sleep, but two days after getting back, I came down with a persistent cough that I’m just now getting the better of. I have a very hard time sleeping on planes, so I often find myself awake for up to 48 hours. This tends to run me down, and it’s at that point that I get sick.

Nevertheless, I’ve been asked to go back to Ethiopia, and in only three and a half weeks. I have, some would say, foolishly agreed to do so. This will be my eleventh trip to Africa and the third in this calendar year. I believe though, in what’s going on over there. We are seeing the gospel spread, and we’re seeing tangible results in the quality of life in those we’re in relationship with. I will be going over there to document the opening of the Tesfa Center, a center for job development and training for destitute widows and their children. It will, God willing, be finished by the time I get there, and there will be a grand opening with the local community and dignitaries in attendance. So I will get over this cough, shoot a few weddings, and get right back on a plane in a few weeks. As Reinhardt Bonnke said, “God’s reward for good work is more work.”

Until I have more to write about, I’m going to leave you with some shots of the beauty of Ethiopia, all taken on this last trip that just ended.  Feel free to subscribe if you’d like to follow this blog.

Children celebrating the Ethiopian New Year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the special needs children we’re working with.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Ah, the wet season in the Ethiopian highlands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Walking through the field.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ethiopian horsemen drive pack animals in rural Ethiopia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Farms and houses in the mountains of Ethiopia

Back In Addis Ababa.

After a week up in the mountains of Ethiopia, I am back in Addis Ababa. Once again, I have seen new things and will have new stories to tell, but only after some thought. My team worked wonderfully together, and I’d take this group anywhere. There were a few minor illnesses, but with some prayer, everyone recovered quickly. I had the honor of bringing my son on his first missions trip this time, so I finally got to share in person what I’ve only been able to tell in stories and pictures. I wish all of you could see what we have seen, but as he has now experienced, no matter how good the pictures and stories, there is no substitute for the real thing.

Having said that, my function this time was not to collect media, but rather to lead a team. Nevertheless, my camera never stays put away for long, so here are the first of my pictures to escape from Ethiopia. Enjoy, and I’ll write more soon. 

The May Show And Tell.

Normally I don’t put two photography-only blogs nearly back to back. However, there were simply too many pictures from the last trip to include in my April post, so here is another. Plus, my thoughts on other subjects are still ruminating. So rather than work on getting my  disheveled thoughts into a proper order, I’ve decided to be lazy and put pictures up instead. Judging by the number of people that look at my blog when it’s only pictures, that seems to be what people want anyway. So here are more pictures from my trip to Ethiopia last month.

The spice market in Harar, Ethiopia. If you ever get the chance to go to Harar, definitely go here.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grinding coffee the old-fashioned way, with a wooden mortar and an iron bar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Silvest posing for the camera.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The goat was not amused.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Horse cart is a frequent means of transport for people and goods in Ethiopia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The narrow passageways of the ancient city of Harar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If my kids complain about how hard they have to work….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Khat market in Awaday, pronounced “I will die.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A fun moment between father and daughter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The toothbrush seller. You buy a stick to brush your teeth with for about 4 cents.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Prayer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One more shot from inside the walled city of Harar.