welcomehome

A mother’s wish for her sick daughter.

On day three, we drove pass an area under a high way where people were living among rubbish but it was too dangerous at the time. As we were driving past it for the second time, it didn’t seem any safer, but this time we stopped and got out of the safer of the car. As we were walking though along the road, the driver was explaining what they were doing. Trucks loads of garbage gets dumped here and they make their daily bread by collecting the recyclables. And they lived on stilt houses above the mountains of plastic bottles, cans and paper. There was no getting to know them, however they allowed us to shoot from a distance and they were okay with that. I was very careful not to seem intrusive, by walking slowly keeping my voice down and shooting only when I’m given permission or I could do it without them knowing. Unlike Roxy where the poor owned stores to make a living, here they collected rubbish and earned little, they were unhappy and restless, and taking pictures of them could be easily taken the wrong way. The people seemed not only unfriendly to us but to each other as well. We considered going back in another day, however I would be better if we had time to slowly get to know them, but we are running out of time here so we decided not to.

We headed back to the village we normally visited. As we had more photos that we’ve printed to give the locals. The pictures were like a pass into the deeper parts of the village. We didn’t want a guide to follow us as i guess it would look less government like. With the pictures, we could go deeper into the village, and some even invite us in their homes. And with the locals more comfortable with our presence I could get better shots of them without sneaking around. While walking though we met a woman, she's been seeing us around and she knows that we've been giving out pictures. And she came to us with a wish; she wanted us to take a picture of her sick daughter. Of course we agreed, but I was thinking as we walked to her house, how sick her daughter was. She lived on the second level of the self made building, where a stairs lead to her house with a square door on the floor. I took off my shoes and slowly made my way up the stairs. While walking up I could tell the house was just one room, it had no windows, only a dying bulb lighting the room. And when I turned around to see the mother with her daughter, I had a rush of emotions. I was confused, scared and my stomach was planning a reverse action, but I forced it down. The little girl was lying on the wooden floor, a dripper sustained her fluid intake, medical tape was pasted across her face to secure the tube going into her nose. She was lying helpless on the floor, with her eyes looking right at me. Her eyes were the most painful thing to see, and she was so young, too young to be looking like that. Not a year older than nine, and struggling for her life. Her mother informed us she was partially blind and unable to move. I couldn’t move, I was disabled in pain just by looking at her, but her mother wanted a photo of her. That was the hardest picture I ever taken. I never knew taking a picture would be so hard. I still can’t get her face out of my head.

Twin Charity.

I woke up confused and a bit disoriented; it was hot, too hot. I looked out to see that we were back at the free school. I slept through the ride there. It was way too early to be up. We had made plans with the drivers to get to the school at about sunrise to get the kids while they where still at school. The school was filled with kids. There were two tents, each housing one class, with wooden tables and chairs, but no black board. Black boards, or more modernly, white boards were a necessary part of every SIngaporean classroom. Seeing a classroom that was a tent filled with tables and chairs was pretty foreign to me. The classes had kids of different ages, all learning the same thing. We talked to the twins who were running the free school, and after explaining what we wanted to do for the kids she agreed to host us. After lunch, I helped Andrew set up his white background that he would shoot the kids aginst. I did not shoot much but I did a lot of watching. I was takig note so small details like how they were washed their plates when they were done. There was only one bucket of water, that was questionably cloudy. They used that to wash their plates. I watched as they reused the packet of soap even after it was clearly almost empty, only offering a few bubbles of soap to clean the dishes, then setting them on the muddy ground while they washed the others. The tents did little to prevent the night’s rain from wetting the ground, forming puddles of mud under their tables. Uncomfortable as it may seem, the kids went back to class. Andrew shot the last kid and requested the owners of the school for one last picture with them against their school. We thanked them and headed back. It was only when we got back that we found out that the twins were on the news. They were being recognised for their charity work. We were lucky to have met them.

Roxy.

This would be our third time visiting the houses along the railway tracks the locals call Roxy. Our previous two visits have both been in the morning where the crowd has been generally safer. This time we went there just before the sunset.

I wanted to better understand how people survived beside the tracks of a train. How they manage to rest or sleep peacefully with the train rumbling and stirring up dust and dirt every time it passed. And, i wanted to know what time the trains stopped. We arrived at about six when the sun had almost completed its cycle for the day. There were people sitting along the tracks talking and resting. The sky looked beautiful that day, I walked above across the tracks along a path built all along the river to get a better view of the sky. It was very peaceful there. A boat took people across the river with the use of a rope. There were many fires burning along the river bed on the other side. I asked the driver if we could go over to take a look, but he said that it was too dangerous in the day and we would not last very long at night either. I headed back to the tracks where we took a walk. The people were nice, some were even laughing at me because I was being attacked by mosquitoes. Then the first train came. I wanted to get a good shot of it so I went as close as courage could take me, but soon realized that I obliviously should have listened to the driver. The train was fast, loud and the dirt and garbage it passed stirred up. I dodged for cover.

I got the picture. Life along the tracks is not easy.

Personal note: I had a talk with a friend of mine that day, a very good friend, and i probably didn't realise i had this in me, or accepted it since i've been back. I was telling her about the places and people i met along the way and the situations that i saw them in, and as we were dug deeper into the subject i found something in me i didn't know was there. I was extremely affected by what i saw. The 18 days i spent there was supposed to just be a documentary, watching mostly. But this watching was hurting me more and more each day. For the first time in my life, i believe that i am a changed person. I don't believe i have lost myself in anyway, but i believe i've found it instead. I bring back moments i've captured to you, to anyone who wants to see what our world is like, and if you are not interested or you don't have the time then it should stay that way. But trust me when i say this, knowing gives you more than you could believe. You're not expected to save the world, but knowing gives you appreciation, knowing gives you contentment, and that is something we've lost along the way. That is something i lost along the way which they brought back to me.

I went there with a mind set that i would be bringing back pictures and words that could help me pass my final year project. That has changed. That doesn't matter to me anymore. This website was created to help my final year project, but that has changed too. I see things differently and believe that i could use this site to let people know what others go though day after day, and et, they are contented. We need to learn from them. Every now and then when the donation box comes along, and we think,  'how much can my two dollars possibly go?' I am not one of the many charities that help people in need, but i can tell you that two dollars will go a long way for them.

Thanks to a friend i know better now. I broke down when we were talking as i felt that i came short, that i didn't do enough to help the people i met. I don't know what i could have done, but i definitely wanted to do more. But she talked me back to my senses. I know now that i did what i could, and that this was a new start for me. Thank you to everyone who has supported me.

It was two in the morning, when the storm first hit. I didn't even know it was raining until it hit me that the loud explosive noises was actually thunder. When morning broke I looked out to check the weather, and for the first time all I saw was wall and water. The road disappeared under the flood that was brought in by the overnight rain. My first thought was that we had to move, right now. As we headed out there were kids playing in the floods, some swimming in the deeper areas, and others were just trying to get to work. It was quite an experience. We headed to a free school for the poor that the driver had told us about. The school was located right beside a village. The school was just a tent posted on a field, and the whole field was covered by a layer of brown water about a foot high. Because of the flood, the school was closed that morning when we arrived. However, we managed to talk to some of the locals in the village and shot around the area. We planned to head there another morning after the flood had subsided