What's in a picture? #Liberia
I had many ways to take pictures in Liberia this year – I had my phone, my camera and a Flip camera. I took photos and videos on them all. I never went anywhere without some way to capture where I was and what I was experiencing, and technology has made this easier than ever. But I discovered some limitations.
I wanted to seize everything I saw and sock it away as both souvenir and as a way to share this love of Liberia with the people I love on this side of the Atlantic, but I often felt self-conscious taking pictures. I didn’t want to come off as a ghetto tourist. The truth is, everywhere I went and everyone I saw was beautiful to me. There was plenty that was alien, unusual, exotic or mind-boggling, but it was all beautiful to me.
I always asked if it was OK for me to take a picture, and the response was always an enthusiastic assent. Everyone I met loved having their picture taken and loved seeing it. That is one really nice thing about digital photography – the ability to shoot and show -but I found it hard to be both photo journalist and participant, like I couldn’t observe and engage at the same time. I wonder if this is an issue for photographers. Is there some invisible line that separates you from the subject?
And I rarely felt like my pictures really caught what I was trying to catch. I have a decent eye, but I can’t find the fullness of being there in the pictures I brought home. Instead, my captures are more like ticklers – a prompt to remind me of a day, a person, a story that has now become entwined in my own life story.
On the flip side, one of my indelible moments from last year was sitting with a girl in one of the orphanages we visited. She asked me if I was “a mama”. At that moment I wanted desperately to be her mama, but I also wanted to share my family with her. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring pictures of my family (in fact, I rarely have printed pictures of anyone anymore) but this time I made a point of printing up some wallet-sized photos of my family from throughout the year, and I took them with me wherever I went.
I found this to be a wonderful ice breaker. Children and adults alike were interested, intrigued and engaged with the pictures I brought. I imagine they were inspecting not only my children, but trying to glean some clues about my life and American culture, which led to some great conversations. Not surprisingly, it was often observed that my oldest daughter looks a lot like me, my girls are beautiful and my boy is big. I like to think that they were also thinking how much older my grey-haired husband looks than me, but no one actually said that. And my little dog with the Christmas sweater – it was incomprehensible that I would put clothes on a dog.
Pictures worth a thousand words.
