Can photos talk? Sometimes a single picture can paint a thousand words if you stop and take a moment to look at it. This week’s Photo Challenge by Swiss-based architect and photographer Frédéric Biver of fakeormistake uses two photographs side by side to create a dialogue and tell a story between them that would not exist if the photo was presented alone. It is a fascinating concept that made me reflect deeply on the importance of each individual’s perception of a photo and its meaning.
A dialogue can be created by similarities in shapes, colors or forms. It can also be created by two photos taken from a different angle or perspective. In my case, I tend to snap away at whatever seems to attract my attention at a certain time and place, using the photos together or in a series of photos to create a story and dialogue of that one specific moment in time.
Here are some dialogues I’ve captured from my travels. See if you can find a story from within.
Ethiopia
Location: Project Mercy’s Lie and Wait house for expectant mothers who walk at least two hours on foot to reach the nearest hospital.
Before I travel to a new place, I make it a habit to read a couple of books on the country I’m visiting in order to get an overview of a country’s history, culture, politics and other pertinent issues. When I was selected to go to Ethiopia as a fellow with the International Reporting Project where I’d be learning about newborn, child and maternal health I found several fabulous books highlighting these issues.
One of the most powerful non-fiction books I read before I left for Ethiopia this past June was “There is No Me Without You” by award-wining journalist Melissa Fay Greene.
Greene’s moving book chronicles the life of one woman’s fight to save Ethiopia’s AIDS orphans during the height of the AIDS epidemic in Africa. Before reading the book, I honestly had no idea that Ethiopia was the second most impacted country in Africa by HIV/AIDS. Greene herself was unaware of the severity of the AIDS epidemic until she came across a New York Times Article in the summer of 2000.
On page 20 in her book, Greene writes:
Per the United Nations, in 2000 Africa was “a continent of orphans.” HIV and acquired AIDS had killed more than 21 million people, including 4 million children. More than 13 million children had been orphaned, 12 million of them in Sub-Saharan Africa. 25% of those lived in 2 countries: Nigeria and Ethiopia. In Ethiopia, 11% of the children were orphans.
Greene realized she could not turn a blind eye to this horrible tragedy and spent the next several years researching the origin and history of the HIV/AIDS, the development of antiretrovirals, the impact of AIDS in Africa and the plight of an entire generation of AIDS orphans. Her research resulted in her powerful book “There is No Me Without You” which is all shown through the eyes of one woman, Haregewoin Teferra, who dared to rescue these children, deemed untouchable and tragically left behind in the aftermath.
A book written on Amelezewd’s life.
It was within this mesmerizing, heart-breaking true story that I learned about Amelezewd and AHOPE for Children. Amelezewd Girma and her two younger brothers were AIDS orphans living with Haregewoin when it was discovered Amelezewd and one of her brothers were HIV positive and too sick for her to care for.
At the time, Ethiopia was overwhelmed with HIV/AIDS orphans (there were over 1.5 million in Sub-Saharan Africa by 2005) and Haregewoin searched desperately for a place that she could send Amelezewd and her brother to be properly cared for. Through Haregewoin’s search, she found Enat House for HIV-positive children which later was renamed AHOPE for Children, and Amelezewd and her brother Michael were placed there.
Sadly, it was too late for young Amelezewd who as a young teenager dreamed of getting an education and becoming a professor someday. Life-saving anti-retrovirals (ARV) that were widely available in the western world were still unaccessible in Sub-Saharan Africa where they needed them most. ARVs were not available in Ethiopia until 2005. Amelezewd passed away leaving behind a legacy of heartbreak and hope while her younger brother Michael survived thanks to the availability of ARV treatment. AHOPE meant that there was finally a hope for HIV positive children and they were no longer being sent to a place to be cared for before they died.
It was against this backdrop that I contacted AHOPE for Children and scheduled a site visit to meet with the director Mengesha Shibru during my reporting fellowship in Ethiopia this past June.
I’m honored that my Shot@Life post “Blogust: Reaching Firsts and Making a Difference” is live today on the United Nations Foundation’s website. Blogust is a month-long digital dialogue, bringing more than 25 of the most beloved online writers, photo and video bloggers and Shot@Life champions (me!) together to help change the world through their words and imagery throughout the month of August. For every comment and/or social media share, Walgreens will donate one life-saving vaccine to a child in need around the world.
Since Blogust began August 1, readers have made over 30,000 comments and social media shares providing over 30,000 vaccines to children around the world who need it most. I encourage my readers to help out by checking out my post here and either commenting or sharing via social media the post. Please note that you must comment or share the post on the UN Foundation’s website (not my website thirdeyemom) for it to count for providing a vaccine.
I have written extensively about the power of life-saving vaccines to save children’s lives around the world. We know that vaccines are the most cost-effective way to save lives and we can erase some of these awful figures:
One in five children lack access to the life-saving immunizations that keep children healthy. In fact, approximately 1.5 million children in developing countries die each year of a preventable disease like pneumonia, diarrhea, measles and polio. Put another way, one child dies every 20 seconds from a disease that could have been prevented by a vaccine.
Here is a snippet of my post today…..
Me with the children of Mosebo village.
#Blogust: Reaching Firsts and Making a Difference
We all remember the firsts: those monumental moments that shape your life and those around you. The moments that take your breath away. The first word. The first step. The first “I love you”. The first day of school. The first kiss. The first goodbye. Firsts that impact our journeys down the long and sinuous path of life.
For me, the most defining firsts of my life have surprisingly taken place in adulthood. The first time I looked into my soul mate’s eyes. The first time I cradled my brand new son. The first time I climbed a 18,000 foot peak. The first time I boarded a plane for a global volunteer trip alone. However, by far the most powerful first was the first time I realized that I had a voice and could use it.
I was half way around the world, hiking the Annapurna Trek in Nepal with my dad. It was the culmination of years of traveling, hiking and following my wanderlust. As I arrived at the first village, there were brilliantly colorful prayer flags swaying in the wind, the smell of burning incense and the distant bells jingling from the mule trains and Buddhist prayer wheels. I saw a woman sitting upon a stoop, shoeless and weathered from years of hard labor in the fields.
She held an old prayer book in her hand and hummed in a language I couldn’t understand. She could not have been much older than me yet our lives were worlds apart. She remained in that spot the entire day, quietly singing, smiling to the passersby and never once opening that book. Her poverty was apparent and like most Nepalese women she most likely never learned to read or write. She and her family lived without electricity, running water, toilets, education, health care or materialistic goods. Yet somehow she survived.
At that moment I wondered about fate and destiny. How could it be that this woman’s life was so incredibly different than my own? That I was there, in a tiny, rural village carrying on my back more than this woman might possibly ever have in her lifetime. I realized my own opportunities and that I had a voice. I could make a difference and even if small, I could help change the world.
I returned home a different person and from that point on, my life has been filled with life-changing firsts. My first blog post. My first international volunteer trip. My first fundraiser to build a school in Nepal. My first meeting on Capitol Hill as an advocate for Shot@Life. My first social good post. My first philanthropic blogging trip to India, and most recently my first trip as a reporting fellow to Ethiopia where I wrote about maternal and newborn health. Each and every new first has somehow worked to create a chain reaction of more firsts that together have lead me down a life changing journey I never dreamed possible. Firsts that take my breath away.
What I’ve realized throughout it all, is how simple it can be to give back and make a difference in the world. With #Blogust, you can too. A comment or a share via social media provides one vaccine to a child who needs it most. You will be part of the change and help a child fulfill their dreams and live to see their own firsts.
Remember all comments and/or social media shares must be on the UN Foundation Shot@Life’s website on my original post. These are the comments and shares that will provide a life-saving vaccine thanks to Walgreens.
Thank you all so much for your amazing support! I could not continue to write this blog without such fabulous readers. I truly appreciate it.
Be the change….
Genet’s two daughters doing their homework after school.
Menesch’s three-month old child.
The beautiful children at Mosebo Village, Ethiopia.
Girl who proudly carried her little brother on her back all day, smiles for the camera.
Fasika’s seven-year-old son smiles for the camera.
Remember to please comment here (not below) to provide a life-saving vaccine to a child in the developing world. Save a life. Be the change. Thank you with all my heart! Nicole
When I arrived in Ethiopia, it was impossible not to notice the frayed clothing worn by most rural Ethiopians. As an avid reader on global issues and extreme poverty, I couldn’t seem to get the fabulous non-fiction book “The Blue Sweater” by Jacqueline Novogratz out of my head. One of the unforgettable moments in Jacqueline’s life was when she was living in Rwanda and saw a young boy wearing her blue sweater that she had donated eleven years ago to a local American charity. Somehow that sweater with her initials still written clearly inside, made it all the way to Africa and was still being worn despite being tattered and frayed. It made Norogratz, a successful investment banker, think about how our world is interconnected, and it steered her life towards philanthropy.
Driving throughout the rural countryside of Ethiopia where over 90% of Ethiopia’s 90 million people live, frayed clothing is an omnipresent reminder of the high level of poverty in this part of the world. I saw toddlers wearing no bottoms, little boys wearing pink jackets, girls and women in a pell-mell of skirts, tops and dresses, and men wearing worn-out, patched up trousers. Shoes were rarely present especially on children. If shoes were worn, they were either too big, too small or torn.
I thought about my own children, comfortably back at home in Minnesota with more clothing in their closets and drawers than they could possibly wear to the point of wearing them out. The fact that twice a year I make the annual trip to Goodwill or Salvation Army where I unload all the unnecessary clothing that is supposed to go to the local community but like Norogratz’ blue sweater, most likely ends up somewhere in Africa.
Was some little girl out there wearing my daughter’s favorite dress? I am certain she is.
“The mountains are calling and I must go”. – John Muir
The White Mountains of northeast Arizona are home to the largest freestanding Ponderosa Pines in the world, a dramatic difference to the lunar landscapes, canyons and cactus desert that covers much of the state. The White Mountains are breathtakingly beautiful with air so fresh that is makes your lungs sing. Peace, serenity and connecting with nature are the main pastimes here and there are many fabulous hiking trails to find it.
The most well-known and beloved hike in the area is the 14-mile roundtrip hike to the sacred Mount Baldy. At 11,4000 feet, Mount Baldy is home to some of the oldest, most beautiful Douglas Firs in the world. Some of them are over 350 years old. Three years ago, my dad, my son Max and I did a three generational hike along the Mount Baldy Trail. Yesterday, we decided to repeat history and do it again. There was no way we could do the entire hike with a nine-year old but we were able to hike to the first lookout with a magnificent view of the forest and horizon.
We rose early to the morning sun lighting up the pine tree tops lining the White Mountains. The morning sky was a magnificent blue with not a single cloud in the sky. That would surely come later. In late August, the White Mountains are at the tail end of monsoon season where the magical clouds slowly appear, form and become bigger, whiter, brighter and then darker before they release their angry water.
We took the White Mountain Scenic Byway for a little over an hour, driving through some of the other small towns along the way. We passed through meadows, fields of wildflowers and lots of Ponderosa Pines (some dating over 700 years old!). It was a beautiful ride that took us through some unbelievable scenery. I had to pinch myself to remember that we were in Arizona as we had left the desert and cactus long ago.
We arrived at the start of the trail around half past nine. The sky was brilliant and the gentle breeze smelled of pines. It was completely still and quiet save for a few birds chirping off in the distance. It was a beautiful day for a hike.
Last February, I spent a week in Cuba and fell in love with the beauty and culture of this mysterious place. Although the country remains trapped under Communism and a lack of human rights, I still was able to find beauty in the people, the music, the glorious architecture and the land. It is a place I would love to go back to and see more.
Although I’ve already written rather extensively on Cuba, I discovered a few photos that I haven’t shared and thought it was time to return to one of my favorite places in Cuba: Old Havana. Take a walk with me through the lovely streets and step back in time.
You cannot change the world, but you can change someone’s world.” -Mother Teresa
One night in 1992, Serawit “Cherry” Teketel, a young Ethiopian college graduate was driving home from dinner with her family when they came upon a moment that would change Cherry’s life forever. As their car pulled to a stop at a street corner in Addis Ababa, they saw a young woman flash them. The sight of this desperate prostitute who had no other way of earning a living, started a debate and made Cherry question her own circumstances in life. Although she was a recent university graduate, she had been unable to find a job for over a year but thankfully she had her family to fall back on. What if she didn’t have that luck? What if she was uneducated, poor and a single mother with no job? What would she do? Cherry’s questioning and compassion inspired her lifelong quest to get women off the streets and into a productive life away from prostitution.
After spending time on the streets, talking with girls and learning more about their issues, Cherry founded Women at Risk, a one-year rehabilitation program that aims to get girls and women out of prostitution and into a sustainable, self-reliant job and lifestyle. Women at Risk works on many different levels of rehabilitation. For the first six months, the women go through an extensive mental, physical and spiritual rehabilitation program that deals with addiction problems, health issues and psychological healing. The next six months involves skill training. Since Ethiopia has an extremely high unemployment rate and most of these women lack an education and come from severe poverty, vocational training is not an option. Cherry and her team realized that the women would need to have skills that would require little education and minimial training yet would provide them a livable income. After much brainstorming, Women at Risk implemented training courses in weaving, cooking and hairdressing.
During the year rehabilitation program, a woman must desire and commit to changing her life. In addition to the rehabilitation and skill training services, she will receive health care, day care, pocket money and groceries each week. Once she successfully completes the program, Women at Risk helps her gain employment or start her own small businesses a viable alternative to prostitution. Today, Cherry’s program has been a wonderful success. Women at Risk has helped over 360 women and over 90% of them have continued to live lives away from prostitution.
Ethiopia has one of the highest levels of poverty in the world. Many women are forced to work or live on the streets to support their family.
Close to the end of my two-week trip in Ethiopia as fellow with the International Reporting Project, my friend Elizabeth Ataley and I went to visit one of Women at Risk‘s partners Ellilta Products. We had heard about their gorgeous scarves through our social good blogging and work with ONE and fashionABLE. Both Elizabeth and I are proud owners and supporters of the Ellilta scarves sold in the US through fashionABLE so we wanted to meet with the women behind the scenes.
On my first night in Addis Ababa, I was introduced to the main staple of Ethiopian food: Injera. Injera is a sponge-like, sourdough bread made from teff that looks like a giant textured pancake and is used to scoop up different types of usually spicy Ethiopian stews called wat. Although I have dined at Ethiopian restaurants before in the States, I was truly looking forward to the real thing in Ethiopia. I find that generally ethnic food is best and spiciest when you have it in the motherland.
Injera is the traditional meal of Ethiopia and neighboring Eritrea and is exceedingly healthy as it is full of iron thanks to the teff grain. It is made by combining teff flour with water and the mixture is fermented for several days giving it its sourdough base. Once the mixture has completed this process, it is baked on a large clay plate called a mittad over a hot fire and formed into a spongy, big pancake.
Injera up close. You can see its spongy texture.
When you dine at a traditional Ethiopian restaurant or home, the first thing the waitress or host does is brings over a large bowl of warm water and soap to the guests to wash your hands. Since Ethiopian food is shared and everyone eats from the same big plate, having clean hands and using only your right hand while eating is proper etiquette.
The injera is spread out on a large platter with a few pieces ready for to grab.
Then the various wats (either vegetarian or meat spicy stews) are poured on top of the injera one at a time.
I never imagined that Ethiopia produced wine until I arrived jet lag and weary at my hotel in Addis Ababa, went to the bar and ordered a drink. “Do you prefer red or white?” the gregarious bartender asked with a smile. “What do you have” I replied, being kind of a wine connoisseur. He rattled off the different wines starting with South Africa and then asked if I’d like to try an Ethiopian wine. Ethiopian wine? I was shocked. “Is it good?” I questioned trying not to sound like a wine snob. “Try for yourself” he replied with a knowing grin. I began with a glass of dry white wine and proceeded on to a delightful glass of smooth red. It was delicious! This would become my five o’clock ritual for the next two weeks in Ethiopia; a ritual I dearly miss since being back home where I have yet to find a bottle of Ethiopian wine.
It is impossible to understand Ethiopia without visiting the countryside. In a country of 90 million people, the rural land of Ethiopia is where over 90% of Ethiopians live and catching a glimpse of their way of life is absolutely fascinating.
During my two weeks in Ethiopia as a fellow with the International Reporting Project, my favorite times were when we were outside of the cities and venturing along the bumpy, cattle-filled roads of rural Ethiopia. For me, the countryside is where the true heart and soul of Ethiopia and much of Africa lies. While some of the other fellows used our lengthy drives as time to catch up on much needed sleep, I sat at the edge of my seat with camera in hand, mesmerized by the world around me. A world I had never experienced yet a world I had imagined in my dreams.
