Hello Friends!
Well, life has certainly picked up pace as all of us have settled into our designated places in the country (and world) and have resumed our American life. We're slowly but surely working on the documentary ...the film is such a big project that sometimes it can feel overwhelming with the 3,000+ images and 60hrs of film but we're tackling it 'bit by bit'. But I wanted to update everyone and write about a fun experience I had not too long ago, enjoy.
I was editing some images the other day at Panera and my cell phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID and it said the number was from Michigan. "I don't really know anyone with a Michigan phone number. Hmm, this is weird," I thought. So I answer the phone and said, "Hello?" ...nothing. I hang up, shugging my shoulders and continued to edit.
It rang again. Same phone number. I answer. No one there. It cuts out. "Hmm, someone is really trying to get a hold of me or this is just an annoying mishap." It rings a third time. I walk out of the place I'm sitting and go outside to answer. Finally someone is on the other end of the line.
"Hello?"
"Auntie Amy, yes, hello!" I hear after a long delay.
I'm thinking to myself, "Holy cow, it's a call from Liberia! But who is it ...I think it's a woman. But Kofa has called me before but I don't think it's him. Who can this be?"
"Kofa? Is that you?"
"No, ............" I couldn't understand who they said they were due to the lag time on the phone and my rusty Liberian English. I couldn't catch what they said. Oh, well. I'm still talking to a Liberian whom I miss very much. I can't believe that this is happening as I'm trying to remember all my Liberian English.
We talk for a minute and then the person on the other line asks, "Is it warm in your pocket?" Oh my goodness. I know who this is!!! It's Ma B! One of the older girls I was so close to at Rainbow Town! We had an inside joke where she would always put her hands in the pockets of my cargo pants and exclaim, "Oh! It warm! They fire in pocket!"
"Ma B!!!!!! I miss you plenty! How's the body?! I miss you plenty!!!!!" I fire tons of questions now that I know exactly who is on the line. My heart fills with joy and excitment. People sitting outside of the place I was at editing images look at me with strange eyes because I'm jumping up and down and speaking very broken English. I thought it was funny.
We chat for a few minutes. I ask how she is doing and how Rainbow Town is. She asks me when I will come back to Liberia ...I tell her as soon as God blesses me with the opportunity. I tell her what I do everyday ...working by taking pictures for a newspaper. She constantly answers with a "Praise God." I miss her so much. I miss the kids. And I thought it was so serendipidous how I was editing their images, looking at their faces on my computer screen and reliving the days we had together and then I get this call from Liberia. If God doesn't have a great sense of humor then I don't know what.
It was exactly what I needed. I missed their fellowship. And even though I was only able to talk to Ma B for 5 minutes, it was the longest, most fulfilling 5 minutes of my life. It gave me a renewed sense of purpose and drive to work on the documentary. They haven't forgotten us ...nor will I ever forget them. They are my friends who live an ocean away.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
A journey complete ...at least production.
I arrived back in the States fully exhausted, smelly and hungry. I spent approximately 18 hours on a plane and a quick 7 hours in layover but I had a great time with my team reminiscing about all the crazy adventures we had in the past two months. From spending time with the orphans at Rainbow Town to frequent trips to Monrovia. We conjured up all the Liberian English we could think of and laughed until it hurt about all the crazy things we had seen and witnessed. But most of all we stepped on the plane in Monrovia with a feeling of accomplishment because we knew we made a good film.
In the week leading up to our departure, my team and I said our tearful goodbyes to the children at Rainbow Town and headed to Monrovia for a chance meeting with the President of Liberia, Madame Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. We had written a letter asking her for an interview for our documentary knowing it was a small chance. But we wanted to dream big. After a long week of going to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and asking about our letter, talking to several government officials and a lot of prayer we had an appointment with the President. Friday morning before her day started they arranged for our Shine Foundation documentary team to have 20 minutes with the President. So we all dressed in our African finest attire (there's a strict dress code for the President) and toted our gear up to her mansion at the Ministry. We waited, completely nervous, for our meeting. I had the pre-game gitters thinking about how I was going to introduce myself and how I would take pictures, praying that nothing would go wrong...
And then it happened.
The President walked into the small conference room where we were set up and sat down. We introduced ourselves and told her briefly what we were doing and asked her 5 questions on camera. She was inspiring and powerful in her presence and in her words. We were all marveled at her because she in the first woman president in Africa. From her words you could hear her passion for her people and for the children of Liberia. You could hear her burden for her country and for its future. She was amazing and I can't believe we got to meet and interview her. What a way to end our time in Liberia.
So our filming is complete. We have about 50 hours of tape and 4,000 pictures taken. I know that we have something special in our hands. Now our team moves into post production. It will be a tedious and long journey but an exciting one. We expect for post production to take about a year before we have a final film/product. We're going to take our time and make sure we give it the effort and creative energy it deserves.
It will be an exciting adventure. I can honestly say that I miss my friends at Rainbow Town and my doc team. It's hard to work so closely to so many people and then in an instant be seperated from them all - oceans and states apart. The documentary team ...Lauren, Willie and Katie ...we were a diverse group of different backgrounds, passions and interests but we meshed so well together. One can't help but believe it was something bigger that brought us together. And the Rainbow Town kids ...well, let's just say you will fall in love with them too once the documentary comes out. So be excited because I think we have something really special.
Stay updated throughout the year during post-production on my blog!
In the week leading up to our departure, my team and I said our tearful goodbyes to the children at Rainbow Town and headed to Monrovia for a chance meeting with the President of Liberia, Madame Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. We had written a letter asking her for an interview for our documentary knowing it was a small chance. But we wanted to dream big. After a long week of going to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and asking about our letter, talking to several government officials and a lot of prayer we had an appointment with the President. Friday morning before her day started they arranged for our Shine Foundation documentary team to have 20 minutes with the President. So we all dressed in our African finest attire (there's a strict dress code for the President) and toted our gear up to her mansion at the Ministry. We waited, completely nervous, for our meeting. I had the pre-game gitters thinking about how I was going to introduce myself and how I would take pictures, praying that nothing would go wrong...
And then it happened.
The President walked into the small conference room where we were set up and sat down. We introduced ourselves and told her briefly what we were doing and asked her 5 questions on camera. She was inspiring and powerful in her presence and in her words. We were all marveled at her because she in the first woman president in Africa. From her words you could hear her passion for her people and for the children of Liberia. You could hear her burden for her country and for its future. She was amazing and I can't believe we got to meet and interview her. What a way to end our time in Liberia.
So our filming is complete. We have about 50 hours of tape and 4,000 pictures taken. I know that we have something special in our hands. Now our team moves into post production. It will be a tedious and long journey but an exciting one. We expect for post production to take about a year before we have a final film/product. We're going to take our time and make sure we give it the effort and creative energy it deserves.
It will be an exciting adventure. I can honestly say that I miss my friends at Rainbow Town and my doc team. It's hard to work so closely to so many people and then in an instant be seperated from them all - oceans and states apart. The documentary team ...Lauren, Willie and Katie ...we were a diverse group of different backgrounds, passions and interests but we meshed so well together. One can't help but believe it was something bigger that brought us together. And the Rainbow Town kids ...well, let's just say you will fall in love with them too once the documentary comes out. So be excited because I think we have something really special.
Stay updated throughout the year during post-production on my blog!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
My first field trip to the slums
July 21, 2007
This was one of the hardest days I’ve ever witnessed. I was uncomfortable. I was dirty. I was wet. I was in disease. I was in famine. I was in sewage. I was among flies. Fleas. Skin wounds. Lice. Poverty. Absence. Nakedness. No hope. Death.
This is what I witnessed in the slums of Monrovia. I was thrown out of the realm of comfort and cleanliness and tossed into the streets of reality. This is the reality for the majority of people in the world. They live on no money, with no food and little hope of a better future. Some travel from their home country looking for a better life. For water. For food. But they end up traveling from one impoverished country to another.
This is Africa.
I witnessed nomads from Niger who traveled to Liberia because their own country could not support them. They live in the Sahara where water is scarce and money is non-existent. Liberia, to them, looked like the solution. Yet, their children beg on the streets for pennies or food to take back to their hungry and sick family in dilapidated structures torn from Liberia’s civil war. They beg from beggars. They were sick and had nothing. They sat on cardboard and dirty mattes covered in mud and infested with lice. They had a small spark of life in their eyes, but they also wore the burden of a tough existence.
Poverty.
We traveled to the slums by the soccer stadium in down town Monrovia. There was a ditch where sewage and waste traveled from the city through the center of their community. When we arrived they were curious. They were also angry. They were hungry. They wore tattered clothing and carried the stench of the sewage they live in. It was their life and the only thing they know. Where flies and other insects rest on their food and their water comes from a small well right next to the sewage. Some were hostile to the fact that we came walking into their community with cameras and curious eyes. They wanted money. They have seen too many people promise what they cannot deliver. We promised nothing but learned their names and listened to their stories. That’s all we could give. We let them know our own pockets were empty but knowing our lives were in far better conditions than theirs. They knew it too.
Disease.
Then WestPoint. The largest impoverished community in Monrovia. The shanties were close together and people were everywhere. It was a busy community yet few cars venture into their streets. We were strangers. Flies surrounded us and rested on our own flesh as we walked through the dirty streets. The smell was nauseating. I stood with teenage boys at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean on a trash heap as they fished for enormous fish that they would then sell in their markets. Trying to sustain life. They looked at us with skeptical eyes. I encouraged and took pictures of young boys as they played soccer on the muddy, sand covered earth, which seemed like their only source of enjoyment. Strange things were cooking. Boys and girls walking around naked. Old women sitting in shacks enjoying their time together. Young children following us with curious eyes. We were not welcome with our expensive cameras and Western walks, yet they enjoyed seeing us. I felt like I was exploiting the people when I would raise my camera to take a picture …like I was a tourist enjoying the scenery. People would beg us for medicine because we were white. They would ask for money because we were white. So many colors, smells and sights. I would lie if I didn’t admit I was uncomfortable. I wanted to witness this life but I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. It was so hard there. Life was so hard. I had no idea.
Ignorance.
Ignorance and apathy are the main culprits of this destitute poverty in the world. I witnessed a small corner of it in the streets of Liberia. A fragment of the whole picture. My eyes were opened and I experienced a life unlike my own. I was unaware of the suffering many people in Liberia and also the vast majority of the world has endured due to poverty. Whether or not apathy sets in is a question time will tell. I pray I’m changed by what my eyes witnessed, what my lungs breathed, what my skin touched, where my feet walked and what my mind will remember. I have a few pictures to remind me of what it’s like to live in a such a way. But I have a feeling I won’t soon forget the seared images of what I witnessed today in my memory for the rest of my life.
Enough description …we need more action.
This was one of the hardest days I’ve ever witnessed. I was uncomfortable. I was dirty. I was wet. I was in disease. I was in famine. I was in sewage. I was among flies. Fleas. Skin wounds. Lice. Poverty. Absence. Nakedness. No hope. Death.
This is what I witnessed in the slums of Monrovia. I was thrown out of the realm of comfort and cleanliness and tossed into the streets of reality. This is the reality for the majority of people in the world. They live on no money, with no food and little hope of a better future. Some travel from their home country looking for a better life. For water. For food. But they end up traveling from one impoverished country to another.
This is Africa.
I witnessed nomads from Niger who traveled to Liberia because their own country could not support them. They live in the Sahara where water is scarce and money is non-existent. Liberia, to them, looked like the solution. Yet, their children beg on the streets for pennies or food to take back to their hungry and sick family in dilapidated structures torn from Liberia’s civil war. They beg from beggars. They were sick and had nothing. They sat on cardboard and dirty mattes covered in mud and infested with lice. They had a small spark of life in their eyes, but they also wore the burden of a tough existence.
Poverty.
We traveled to the slums by the soccer stadium in down town Monrovia. There was a ditch where sewage and waste traveled from the city through the center of their community. When we arrived they were curious. They were also angry. They were hungry. They wore tattered clothing and carried the stench of the sewage they live in. It was their life and the only thing they know. Where flies and other insects rest on their food and their water comes from a small well right next to the sewage. Some were hostile to the fact that we came walking into their community with cameras and curious eyes. They wanted money. They have seen too many people promise what they cannot deliver. We promised nothing but learned their names and listened to their stories. That’s all we could give. We let them know our own pockets were empty but knowing our lives were in far better conditions than theirs. They knew it too.
Disease.
Then WestPoint. The largest impoverished community in Monrovia. The shanties were close together and people were everywhere. It was a busy community yet few cars venture into their streets. We were strangers. Flies surrounded us and rested on our own flesh as we walked through the dirty streets. The smell was nauseating. I stood with teenage boys at the shore of the Atlantic Ocean on a trash heap as they fished for enormous fish that they would then sell in their markets. Trying to sustain life. They looked at us with skeptical eyes. I encouraged and took pictures of young boys as they played soccer on the muddy, sand covered earth, which seemed like their only source of enjoyment. Strange things were cooking. Boys and girls walking around naked. Old women sitting in shacks enjoying their time together. Young children following us with curious eyes. We were not welcome with our expensive cameras and Western walks, yet they enjoyed seeing us. I felt like I was exploiting the people when I would raise my camera to take a picture …like I was a tourist enjoying the scenery. People would beg us for medicine because we were white. They would ask for money because we were white. So many colors, smells and sights. I would lie if I didn’t admit I was uncomfortable. I wanted to witness this life but I wanted to get as far away from it as I could. It was so hard there. Life was so hard. I had no idea.
Ignorance.
Ignorance and apathy are the main culprits of this destitute poverty in the world. I witnessed a small corner of it in the streets of Liberia. A fragment of the whole picture. My eyes were opened and I experienced a life unlike my own. I was unaware of the suffering many people in Liberia and also the vast majority of the world has endured due to poverty. Whether or not apathy sets in is a question time will tell. I pray I’m changed by what my eyes witnessed, what my lungs breathed, what my skin touched, where my feet walked and what my mind will remember. I have a few pictures to remind me of what it’s like to live in a such a way. But I have a feeling I won’t soon forget the seared images of what I witnessed today in my memory for the rest of my life.
Enough description …we need more action.
Friday, July 20, 2007
I'm Still Alive!...
I know it's been a while since I've updated but I wanted to let everyone know that I'm still alive! So much is happening and we're in the busiest part of our journey. We're currently in Monrovia to work on footage, interviews, audio and a wedding! It's going to be a lot in a little bit of time but we're motivated and excited for everything.
Gbarnga has been good. We've hit some bumps on the road with the documentary (not taping as much as planned or hoped) but the Lord is faithful and protecting our film. The kids are still amazing and I've realized I have become comfortable around Liberians. Before, I wasn't use to the language and could barely understand anyone and wouldn't respond for fear of making some ridiculous comment or cultural no-no. Thankfully, the Liberian people are forgiving and patient with me. But now I feel comfortable in my language and using typical "Liberian" words like, "The people are plenty!" or "I coming be going now" or "I will get down here from the car" or "It is spoiled!" ...random, I know, but it really helps to say phrases that they understand so they don't stare at you blankly. It's actually a lot of fun.
The orphanage is great. I've been spending a lot of time with the older girls. Their ages range from 16 to 23. They have so much wisdom and an amazing faith. They are my Pelle teachers and will constantly challenge me by asking me questions in their native language. Unfortunately it's a hard language to learn. My mouth is unable to make some of the sounds it requires. So everyone gets a kick and giggle out of me trying. Like I said, they're patient with me.
As for our team, our health is good. Although, Willie has been feeling a little sick lately and not eating much. Imagine a 6'7" football player not eating much for weeks on end. No protein. Just a diet based on rice, peanut butter, eggs, bread and speghetti. One would think all the carbs would make us gain weight, but actually, all of us have lost 5-10 pounds each. We've stumbled upon the new diet craze. The African diet. Where you eat to survive and since you have no options you eat what you have. Eating isn't enjoyable anymore ...you just do it because you have to or you won't have any energy. And there's no snacking ...it's been a good lession on hunger because a lot of people here go days without eating. And when they do, they eat a meager amount of rice.
Every part of this experience is teaching me something about life. About what it means to have much and to have little. About hunger. About happiness. About faith. About love. About the global church. Everything is a learning experience.
And I'm loving it ...One thing I can tell you is I won't be the same person after this experience in Liberia.
Gbarnga has been good. We've hit some bumps on the road with the documentary (not taping as much as planned or hoped) but the Lord is faithful and protecting our film. The kids are still amazing and I've realized I have become comfortable around Liberians. Before, I wasn't use to the language and could barely understand anyone and wouldn't respond for fear of making some ridiculous comment or cultural no-no. Thankfully, the Liberian people are forgiving and patient with me. But now I feel comfortable in my language and using typical "Liberian" words like, "The people are plenty!" or "I coming be going now" or "I will get down here from the car" or "It is spoiled!" ...random, I know, but it really helps to say phrases that they understand so they don't stare at you blankly. It's actually a lot of fun.
The orphanage is great. I've been spending a lot of time with the older girls. Their ages range from 16 to 23. They have so much wisdom and an amazing faith. They are my Pelle teachers and will constantly challenge me by asking me questions in their native language. Unfortunately it's a hard language to learn. My mouth is unable to make some of the sounds it requires. So everyone gets a kick and giggle out of me trying. Like I said, they're patient with me.
As for our team, our health is good. Although, Willie has been feeling a little sick lately and not eating much. Imagine a 6'7" football player not eating much for weeks on end. No protein. Just a diet based on rice, peanut butter, eggs, bread and speghetti. One would think all the carbs would make us gain weight, but actually, all of us have lost 5-10 pounds each. We've stumbled upon the new diet craze. The African diet. Where you eat to survive and since you have no options you eat what you have. Eating isn't enjoyable anymore ...you just do it because you have to or you won't have any energy. And there's no snacking ...it's been a good lession on hunger because a lot of people here go days without eating. And when they do, they eat a meager amount of rice.
Every part of this experience is teaching me something about life. About what it means to have much and to have little. About hunger. About happiness. About faith. About love. About the global church. Everything is a learning experience.
And I'm loving it ...One thing I can tell you is I won't be the same person after this experience in Liberia.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Rainy Season
I have never witnesses thunderstorms like I've endured here in Liberia. We are now in Africa's winter called "rainy season". This is a time where Africa is pelted with rain after a long and hot dry season. It starts in July and usually lasts through the end of October and it has proved difficult with the filming of the documentary. Seems mother nature doesn't like electronic equipment. But we're managing well even though we've had to change plans due to a few days of constant rain. We usually have to wait it out with the orphans until the weather breaks and we can shoot. But it has made our life interesting nonetheless.
I have been getting really close to the orphans in the past week since I've been with them for close to a month now. They all know my name and call me "Auntie Amy" in their cute little Liberian English. I've gotten to know some of the older children, caregivers and teachers at Rainbow Town as well. The older children teach me so much about Liberian culture and are patient with me when I can't understand their Liberian English. The boys are curious and want to know about my camera and play soccer with me since they know I played at "University." The girls teach me about platting hair (braiding) and cooking ...we also talk a lot about American culture, music and what my life is like "on the other side." I really enjoy spending time with the older kids.
We have been getting a lot done in the past week. We've had the house to ourselves since the missionary couple have been in Monrovia taking care of business. Like I said before, everything takes longer to do in Liberia ...it's an official unoffical place where you have to have an "official" form for this and an "official" letter for that. They're currently trying to get our passports extended and register the Shine car with the government ...which translates into a week long process.
But it's been good because we've had to wake up early and ride on the Rainbow Town truck with the teachers from town to the orphanage. It's fun to ride on the back of a big truck with a bunch of people. But I definitely stand out since I am white ...all the little kids stare at me because I'm sure I'm a sight to see ...they then point and scream "White woman!" and then wave while eagerly awaiting my wave back. It's funny. If I counted the times I heard "White woman" I would lose count.
But everyone's really nice and we're a well oiled machine now. We still have so much to do for the film but we're chipping away at it slowly. If it rains then we take a bunch of the kids to the local radio station to record their singing and drumming for the soundtrack to the film, or we're filming them at school, working in the fields, playing in the bush or making crafts with them.
It's a great time ...but I know these next 30 days will go quickly. Back to work!
I have been getting really close to the orphans in the past week since I've been with them for close to a month now. They all know my name and call me "Auntie Amy" in their cute little Liberian English. I've gotten to know some of the older children, caregivers and teachers at Rainbow Town as well. The older children teach me so much about Liberian culture and are patient with me when I can't understand their Liberian English. The boys are curious and want to know about my camera and play soccer with me since they know I played at "University." The girls teach me about platting hair (braiding) and cooking ...we also talk a lot about American culture, music and what my life is like "on the other side." I really enjoy spending time with the older kids.
We have been getting a lot done in the past week. We've had the house to ourselves since the missionary couple have been in Monrovia taking care of business. Like I said before, everything takes longer to do in Liberia ...it's an official unoffical place where you have to have an "official" form for this and an "official" letter for that. They're currently trying to get our passports extended and register the Shine car with the government ...which translates into a week long process.
But it's been good because we've had to wake up early and ride on the Rainbow Town truck with the teachers from town to the orphanage. It's fun to ride on the back of a big truck with a bunch of people. But I definitely stand out since I am white ...all the little kids stare at me because I'm sure I'm a sight to see ...they then point and scream "White woman!" and then wave while eagerly awaiting my wave back. It's funny. If I counted the times I heard "White woman" I would lose count.
But everyone's really nice and we're a well oiled machine now. We still have so much to do for the film but we're chipping away at it slowly. If it rains then we take a bunch of the kids to the local radio station to record their singing and drumming for the soundtrack to the film, or we're filming them at school, working in the fields, playing in the bush or making crafts with them.
It's a great time ...but I know these next 30 days will go quickly. Back to work!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)