Beyond Your Door Step

Tibetans in Exile

2012-01-25T05:42:00.000-08:00

Over 60 years ago, the People's Republic of China ordered its troops to spread into the region southwest of its borders to start campaign of “cultural cleansing.” The troops quickly invaded the sovereign nation of Tibet and seized control. As the following months turned to years and years turned to decades, Chinese government continues its campaign, committing relentless, terrible acts of violence on Tibetans forced to endure the brutal encounters. More than 1 million Tibetans have been killed.

The occupying Chinese military has destroyed 6,000 Buddhist monasteries, and the government currently holds an estimated 3,000 religious and political prisoners either in prisons or tortured and placed in work-camps. The XIV Dalai Lama, spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism, fled his country after the 1959 Tibetan Uprising. For the past 53 years, he has lived in India as an exile. The mountain town of Dharamsala in the Indian province of Himachal Pradesh provides sanctuary to the Dalai Lama and has become his home as well as home to hundreds of Tibetan refugees who have founded the headquarters for the Tibetan Government in Exile.

Experiencing the bold friendliness of the Tibetan people as I walked the meditation path through the forest to the mountaintop temple has strongly instilled in me new concepts on how a collective of people can embrace and struggle against terrible injustices committed against them with astounding resilience and loving patience.

These thoughts stuck with me as I approached the Tsuglagkhang temple. Above a series of Buddhist prayer wheels, I saw a sign standing reading, "These wheels containing Avalokiteshvara's mantra 'Om Mani Padme Hum' are built with the prayer that his holiness, the Dalai Lama, lives for many eons and all all his wishes be fulfilled. Pray and show our solidarity for those brave men and woman of Tibet who lost their lives for the cause of Tibet. Pray for the happiness of all sentient beings".

Hours later when leaving the monastery I couldn't help but smile when passing a roadside sign that read, "Better late than never."

A Tibetan doctor diagnosing a patient by feeling their pulse - Dharamsala.

A faithful Buddhist woman in prayer - Gyuto Ramoche Monastery.

Monks in prayer- Tsuglagkhang Temple.

Child monk ascends the monastery stairs - Gyuto Ramoche Temple.

Studying Tibetan scripture - Mcleod Ganj.

Urban Slums of Srinagar, Kashmir

2012-01-20T06:00:00.000-08:00

With the cold winter weather approaching fast I decided to travel into Kashmir with the hopes of documenting the lives of the struggling lower class before the inevitable snow storms hit the region. Although I was lucky enough to avoid the incoming storm, the weather was still freezing with temperatures dropping to -7 degrees at night. Trudging through the frozen mud I made my way through the urban slums Naidyar and Sheikh colony in Kashmir's capital city, Srinagar. According to the locals I conversed with, the main struggle of the lower class is not owning land (most families have land and houses passed down from previous generations) but finding a job with a high enough income to support the entire family. Life inside the Naidyar and Sheikh colony slums is a hard one and can be considered modest at best. Many of the houses are held up by tin sheets or torn tarps stung up to make an impromptu wall. For those living in the center of the slums, clean water is hard to come by and each family is tightly packed together in the maze of small, squalor soaked alleyways.

Even with the current lull in violence from the Indian army the effects of a constant military occupation on a region's economy is still very clear as life can become a day to day battle for the lower class.

Man walking down a waterway path - Naidyar slum.

Boy in an alleyway - Naidyar slum.

Brother and sister - Sheikh colony slum.

Girl being lectured by family in candle light - Naidyar slum.

Photo shy girl - Sheikh colony slum.

Kashmir: 65 Years of Occupation

2012-01-20T05:20:00.000-08:00

Since the independence of India and Pakistan in 1947 the state of Kashmir has been divided and controlled by both countries. Over the past 65 years Kashmir has fluctuated between moments of peace and revolt. Violence has been committed by both sides with the killing of Indian soldiers from nationalist rebels or religious extremists (Kashmir is predominantly Muslim compared to the southern Hindu region of Jammu or the eastern Buddhist region of Ladakh). As with most military occupations, whenever there is militancy against the ruling power it is almost always the civilian population that suffers the consequences. Military checkpoints are placed along the roads and night raids into private homes can be frequent. There has also been reported incidences of mass rape (Kunan Poshpora village) committed by the Indian army as well as thousands of civilian arrests and imprisonments without a stated cause or due process.

My next post will cover the lives of people living in the urban slums of the Kashmiri capital city of Srinagar. For the few days it took to set up that story with my contacts I lived on the outskirts of the city in a small village nestled on an inlet of Dal Lake to do a small story on rural life. This massive lake dominates the landscape and many of the local farmers and fishermen rely on this body of water for their livelihoods.

A woman transporting her crops.

A man farming for edible underwater roots.

A woman rowing into town.

The Golden Temple of Amritsar, Punjab

2012-01-10T21:24:00.001-08:00

I was on my way to Kashmir to document a story on the urban slums when I passed through the city of Amritsar along the Pakistan border. The city is home to the most sacred sight for the Sikh religion, The Golden Temple. This being my first time encountering a large Sikh community I was profoundly humbled by the openness and compassion showed to pilgrims and travelers alike. Everyone is welcome to stay and room on the temple grounds and a 24 hour free kitchen is offered to all. Dozens of volunteers sit chopping and pealing vegetables to feed the hoards of people eating together in several row on the floor in a great hall. People walk up and down the rows gifting food to whoever holds out their hand. No one is allowed to go hungry. Rich business men sit and eat with the poor. There is no difference in class; we are all equal.

Man admiring the Golden Temple.

Sikh pilgrim by the sacred pool.

Sikhs are historically known as strong warriors.

India:

2011-12-24T21:34:00.000-08:00

Over the past two months I have documented the social and humanitarian issues around Thailand with stories covering the flooding of Bangkok, indigenous hill tribe culture, sex worker rights, refugee camps along the Thai/Myanmar border and Burmese land mine victims. I hope you enjoyed viewing them as much as I enjoyed bringing them to you! I would like to make a special thank you for everyone who has helped me along my way either through financial contributions or words of loving encouragement. I would also like to shout out to Jennie Roberson who has courageously volunteered many times to be an editor for my articles; taking away the shame of how terrible my spelling actually is!

I have now entered India and plan to bring passionate photographs to many of the issues surrounding the subcontinent. Future projects will include the lives of Tibetan refugees in exile, woman's liberation movements, child welfare, and societal poverty. As an independent photojournalist my work is funded through the support of others. If you are interested in supporting me but cannot do so through financial means you can still be of great assistance by sharing my work and webpage with all of your friends, family, co-workers, and associates. For those who have donated to me in the past, I am truly humbled and would greatly appreciate your continued support. For those of you who are interested in donating and helping me continue my work, you may do so through the donation button in the top right margin. No donation is too small and I cannot do the work that I do without you.

Stay tuned for future projects and help support independent humanitarian photojournalism!

Cheers & happy holidays,

K.M.L.

Man offering a fire blessing, Haridwar.

Mae La Refugee Camp

2011-12-16T22:35:00.001-08:00

“Those who know when to fight and when not to fight are victorious.” - Sun Tzu

I try to keep these words in mind as a humanitarian worker. It is always bitter for photojournalists to admit that they were unable to achieve a story and document a social issue because of the overpowering forces that be. But that is often the reality of my work; I cannot always gain access to a region in critical need of international awareness. In this case, I’m referring to my ability to enter and cover the Mae La refugee camp along the Thai/Myanmar border.

With 40,000 - 80,000 people calling the Mae La camp home, it has become the largest refugee camp in Thailand. The camp, with no running water or sewage system, seems to be an endless collection of hovels made from scavenged forest materials and crammed together as tightly as possible with some buildings actually touching each other. Thai military security around camp is very tight with outposts every 25-50 yards that adhere to a strict no journalist policy. Entry is usually only granted for teachers and medical workers with a lengthy bureaucratic application paperwork process that would take more time then I have available to me.

Being aware that I would not be granted entry I still decided, with the encouragement of a friend, to travel up to the camp to at least bear witness to the situation with my own eyes. Of course, once I reached the camp, a group of Burmese children ran up to the barbed wire fence curious to see the foreigner and I couldn’t help but take out my camera and start photographing. Before I could even get a correct ISO setting the military had already started moving towards me yelling to stop, but I figured it would take them a moment to cover the distance between us. For thirty seconds I didn’t stop shooting; photographing as fast as possible before the military physically stopped me from taking any more images.

Here are the few photographs that I was able to capture within those thirty seconds.

Child refugees against a barbed wire fence.

Children lined up along the camp boundary.

The largest refugee camp in Thailand.

Land Mine Victims at the Mae Tao Clinic

2011-12-05T08:12:00.000-08:00

19 year old land mine victim

Burma/Myanmar is one of four countries (the others being Israel, Syria, & Libya) left in the world that still actively place land mines. The ICBL (International Campaign to Ban Landmines) reports that “landmines and explosive remnants of war caused 4,191 casualties in 2010, 5% more than in 2009... [though] the real figure could be nearer 6,000 casualties.” The total number of Burmese and Karen people becoming victims of these nefarious weapons of war are unknown. However, it is clear that dozens of seriously wounded individuals cross into Thailand each year to seek medical care at the Mae Tao Clinic on the border town of Mae Sot.

Karen refugee adjusts his dressing.

The Mae Tao Clinic provides free health care for Burmese refugees. Its multiple departments help administer treatment to land mine victims. Its services include intensive care, trauma, the main land mine ward, and a prosthetics department that creates artificial limbs to help victims reintegrate into society after healing.

I noticed a patient chart hanging in the prosthetics department, which showed that large majority of land mine survivors are men. It was explained to me by a clinic staff member that, due to the patriarchal societal structure in their tribal and rural communities, most women stay at home to cook, clean and care for the children, while the men go out into the fields to farm or into the forests for wood. These activities drastically increased their chances of being injured.

Land mine victim in the Intensive Care Unit.

Documenting the various land mine cases at the Mae Tao Clinic was a difficult story to work through: I was working with an incapacitating fever at the time, but there was also a palpable feeling of helplessness. It pained me to see that there was very little that I could do to ease their pain. All I could do was hold their hand, speak a few words in broken Karen or Burmese, and photograph their lives, stories, and suffering to share it with the world. The whole time I was at the clinic, I felt isolated and alone. I empathized deeply with the emotions expressed by the victims as they lay in bed: alone, without friends or family, unable to do anything to improve their situation.

However, while this unfortunate reality was true, I noticed one very remarkable act - the smallest act of compassion or awareness could dramatically alter the mental states of the patients. No, I could not fix the damages that have been done to each refugee, but in this time of personal crisis, I found a recognition from the victims: Someone (and a white American, at that) had left their comfort zone and traveled a very long distance to understand the experiences of a people that can be easily overlooked and forgotten. I could see that it had become clear to the patience that, in desperate moments, there are still people around the world who care about them. It noticeably reignited a sense of hope.

That, to me, is the purpose of activism. No one person will ever change the world - if you set out with that goal, you will surely fail. Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King would have been nothing without the thousands of ordinary people supporting them, who showed individuals acts of non-compliance. It is those everyday acts of compassion and resistance - holding a hand, words of comfort, showing compassion and caring- that will actually make a difference and invoke a positive change in our world.

We are never truly alone when connected to our common humanity.

Open wound.

The Mae Tao Clinic for Burmese Refugees

2011-11-30T18:00:00.000-08:00

This report was written while I was living on the Thai/Burma border and I must admit, I’m not sure how to fully describe the painful experiences of the hundreds-of-thousands of Burmese refugees living in Thailand. Yet, I will do my best to show you through my photography the individual lives and experiences of a few refugees that I had the privilege of documenting while echoing the lives of thousands of Burmese people displaced by war.

The Mae Tao clinic is a free health care center on the outskirts of the border town of Mae Sot, Thailand which was established in February of 1989 by Dr. Cynthia Maung after fleeing violent repression from the Burmese government. Twenty-two years later, the Mae Tao clinic has vastly grown and now consists of several departments to address the needs of the ever-growing number of refugees crossing the border river every year. Upheld year round by some 630+ staff, the long list of these departments include: Dressing, Surgery, Trauma, Prostheses for land mind victims, Pre-natal/Post-abortion care (abortions are illegal in Burma but legal in Thailand), Food & Nutrition, Blood Transfusions, Water & Sanitation, Child Protective Services, Eye Care, Training Programs, HIV Care, School Programs, Dental, Social Outreach and Housing Accommodations for in/out patients as well as those traveling long distances to receive care. All of these vital services are free for the 150,000 refugees and illegal immigrants every year who otherwise cannot receive any health care whatsoever. The only payment required by the clinic is an initial registration fee of around 25¢!

Bedridden by injury.

Burma has the worst health record in Southeast Asia. The Mae Tao clinic report “From Rice Cooker to Autoclave” has published findings by Phil Thornton from the Bangkok Post which state that the “UN’s Development Programme's Human Development Index has ranked Burma # 130 out of 177 countries. The World Health Organization placed Burma’s health system as the world’s second worst out of 191 countries”. Per capita, “Burma’s official spending on health care is estimated to be $0.74 compared to Thailand, which invests $89”. Mr. Thornton continues to highlight how damaging the figures are on the ground by reporting that, “Over 7% of Burmese children don’t survive their first year on Earth and 10% will die before their fifth”. That's approximately one in fourteen gone before their first birthday, and one in ten that won’t see their fifth year of life.

Young girl in the trauma ward.

This neglect of human life and dignity is not from a lack of funds; rather, it highlights the depth of government corruption. The nation of Burma/Myanmar has a 1 -2 billion dollar a year revenue from oil and natural gas, and yet a John Hopkins School of Public Health report shows gut-wrenching evidence that the current regime spends “as little as 3% of national expenditures on health, while the military, with a standing army of over 400,000 troops, consumes 40%”.

A woman hospitalized by domestic violence.

This treatment center is crucial, as the situation in Burma/Myanmar is constantly fluctuating from instability to open war between the government and ethnic groups, such as the Democratic Karen Buddhist Army or the Karen National Liberation Army, fighting for autonomy. Of course, every time war and conflict erupts inside of Burma there is loss of life, increased hardships and hundreds of arrests, disappearances, internally displaced people and refugees. Dr. Cynthia Maung has stated that, “Over the past twenty years I have never seen the patient caseload decrease”. To give weight to Dr. Cynthia’s words the Mae Tao clinic treated 1,351 trauma cases in 1999, which skyrocketed to 7,074 caseloads in 2008. In 1990 the clinic delivered 6 babies and a whopping 2,433 babies in 2008. Taking the doctor's words as truth, we can be sure that these numbers are even higher now in 2011 and will have exponentially increased by the time the next report is published.

A mother watches over her new born daughter.

The Mae Tao clinic runs its programs on year by year funding and with the global financial crisis still hitting many regions around the world supporters are backing out of their commitments and cutting off their contributions, leaving the looming question: Will the clinic have the necessary funds to continue their expanding work next year or the year after? As of now, 40% - 50% of the funding comes from the US AID program but with America tightening its grip on foreign spending (but not military expenditures) cuts are being made to social programs across the board. After personally witnessing the clinic and glimpsing the lives of those that depend on its help, I can begin to fathom what would happen if the clinic becomes unable to accommodate these desperate and displaced families. What would they do? And honestly, what other options would they have?

Young monk.

The "Can Do" Sex Worker Collective

2011-11-27T23:33:00.000-08:00

Heavy-handed comments have been thrown around labeling Thailand as the “brothel of the world,” or “Disneyland for men.” Of course, there are no official figures as to the total number of sex workers in Thailand, but a moderate figure from Thai analysts puts the number at 15,000-22,000 women (with a very small portion consisting of men.) As such, Thailand has a very strong reputation for being a nation with a massive amount of prostitution and sex trafficking.

In the northernmost city of Chiang Mai, there are many restaurants, venues, and bars that cater to the pleasures of both tourists and locals alike. However, one bar stuck out to me among all the rest - The "Can Do" Bar, owned by a collective of empowered sex workers.

The "Can Do" Bar currently employs twenty workers, and offers an incredible amount of opportunities for women that are almost never offered in Thailand’s sex industry. These opportunities include such luxuries as:

- Payment at or above minimum wage
- 10 paid holidays, plus 13 public holidays throughout the year
- Voluntary overtime at full pay

- Encouragement to join a worker’s association or union

- Paid sick leave
- Full rights to settle disputes in a labor court

The Empower Foundation is the main supporter of the "Can Do" Bar experiment. The foundation views education as a fundamental part of empowering sex workers - many of whom are receiving education for the very first time. Empower has now provided educational programs to over 30,000 sex workers in regions around Thailand. Such regions include: Patpong, Phuket, Mae Sal, and Chiang Mai - which keeps its educational center on the second floor above the bar.

During my visit, I had the opportunity to interview three of the women working that evening: Mai, Pae, and Oa. When I asked them if they had any message they wanted to convey to others around the world or to other sex workers, their replies were varied but positive.

"The ‘Can Do’ Bar is fair bar," Mae told me simply. "It’s a fun bar and is enjoyable to work here.”

Pae commented: “The bar is not open only for customers looking for sex. It is open to friends and organizers with the goal of spreading awareness."

“Sex workers can open their own bar, be their own boss and take care of themselves," Oa explained. "They can work, be artists (sex work is an art), and be safe all at the same time. Here, we live and work in good conditions. We are happy. Every bar can be like us."

Before leaving, I also had a chance to talk with Liz Hilton, a representative for the Empower Foundation.

“Empower and the ‘Can Do’ bar was born out of sex worker frustration," Hilton replied when asked for an official statement. "Over a period of time, workers voiced concerns to their government; but with no response, they decided to pool together in a collective effort to show that their jobs can be done safely and responsibly."

"We just exceeded a world population of 7 billion people," Hilton continued. "That means there have been at least 7 billion sexual acts that are not for profit. The global community does not seem to have a problem with this (fact), and regards sex as a natural, private, and personal act. That is, until money comes into the equation ... (then) governments, businesses, and fundamental feminists all feel the need to intervene."

"Women have a right to do whatever they choose with their lives," Hilton concluded, "and should be given autonomy to proceed in a positive way."

For further information, please visit the Empower Foundations/Can Do Bar's website:
http://www.empowerfoundation.org/barcando_en.html

Taking An Offering

2011-11-10T07:13:00.000-08:00

Tonight is Loi Krathong—an annual light festival celebrated through Thailand and some adjacent countries. The most popular place to be during the festival is the northern city of Chiang Mai, where people light Khom Fai (something similar to a paper hot-air balloon). I, however, am currently on the Thai/Myanmar border, where most of the celebration is done in the traditional fashion of floating candles, flowers, and incense in a banana leaf boat down the river (though I will post a photograph of a lit Khom Fai so you get an idea of what it looks like). Almost all of these banana rafts contain food and coins as an offering to The Buddha. The purpose behind this celebration is to let go of one’s anger, frustration and negative thoughts, in order to put the past behind and move on positively into a new life.

Now, before I go any further, I want to take this time to tell you a story. (Trust me, it's worth reading.) This was a story that captivated me before I left the States to start my work overseas, and was told to me by the ever-inspiring Unitarian Universalist minister, Arther Vaeni.

--In a small Jewish community in Eastern Europe, there was baker who was in great need. One day, this baker decided to bake his finest loaf of bread and leave it in the cabinet behind the altar that evening as an offering to God, with the hope that God would grant him his prayer for happiness. Now, at night, the synagogue had a poor man from the community who lived off only a few coins a week come in and clean the sanctuary. This particular night, poor man fell to his knees in the sanctuary and prayed to God to help him find a way to feed his hungry children. When he opened the cabinet door behind the altar to see if God had listened to him, he was stunned to see a fresh loaf of bread waiting for him. It had worked; God had answered his prayers. After cleaning the synagogue, the poor man took this loaf of bread home and fed his children.

The following morning, the baker arrived and was also surprised to see that God had accepted his offering. From that moment, the baker vowed to bake an offering every day; and every day the poor man would come in the night and be blessed with this miraculous gift from God. Now this cycle went on for seven whole years until one day, the Rabbi of the temple watched the baker leave a loaf of bread in the altar cabinet. At first the Rabbi was angered at seeing the altar being defiled with food. Then, that anger turned to confusion as he watched the poor man take the offering from the altar shortly after the baker departed the grounds. The next day, the Rabbi gathered the two men and explained the situation. Both of the men felt betrayed; God had not listened to either of their prayers. However, the Rabbi explained that they were indeed fulfilling the wishes of god. The baker could be happy in knowing that his work was helping feed others, and the poor man could feel pleased knowing that there was a spiritually rich community for him to live in while never going hungry. The Rabbi then suggested that the baker bake a loaf of bread everyday and personally hand it to the poor man without the altar cabinet being involved. This way, both men would realize the true nature of God in each and every individual. Agreeing to this, the baker was filled with joy, and the poor man's family never went hungry again.--

Tonight, as the festivities of Loi Krathong started to die down, I walked up and down the river bank, photographing children as they swam out to collect the coin offerings of others to the Buddha. This way, each lay Buddhist has been spiritually revived by giving offerings to the Buddha, while less fortunate children are able to ease their suffering; the ultimate goal of The Buddha. Isn't that how a spiritually whole community should be?

Picking through the offerings.

Pocketing the gains.

Swimming to the prize.

Counting the purse.

Coins under the flowers.

Lighting of the Khom Fai.

The Lahu Hill Tribe

2011-11-06T01:28:00.000-07:00

The indigenous people of the Lahu tribe span across the nations of Thailand, Burma, Laos, Vietnam and China. Traditionally known as a hunter-warrior society, the Lahu people are now finding themselves in a battle to hold onto their culture in this radically changing time of modernization.

After trekking through the jungle, crossing rivers, and climbing up the mountain side on a rough dirt road for several hours I finally arrived in a small village belonging to this indigenous hill tribe. Even though I was exhausted and the sun was setting behind the hills (the village has no electricity or running water) I knew that my time in this village would be short; so I grabbed my camera and set off to explore the area and get to know some of the locals.

These are a few portraits that I was able to capture during my time with the Lahu tribe.

A man treks his daughter up the mountain side.

A man walking through the village.

A girl collecting flowers.

An elderly woman separating grain for dinner.

Girl with a teddy bear.

Man sitting on his deck.

A woman enjoying a cigarette.

Sunrise in a Lahu village.

Bangkok Under Water

2011-10-28T01:04:00.000-07:00

For several weeks flood waters have slashed their way through one-third of Thailand beginning in the northern provinces around Chiang Mai and spreading into the heart of Bangkok. This is becoming known as the worst flood to hit the country in over fifty years as the relentless waters are now progressively engulfing the capital. Some people are even referring to Bangkok as the ‘New Atlantis.’ Though I would like to stray away from eye-catching words such as these perpetuated by the main stream media, it is still very clear that the destruction from the flooding is boundless. One woman remarked, “I have lived here all my life and I have never seen it this bad,” before trudging on down the sidewalk. Thus far, the floods have claimed around 366 lives and is estimated to have caused at least 6.2 billion dollars in damages; crippling the nation’s economy.

I spent the better part of today wading for miles through knee to waist high water documenting those who have been forced out of their homes. This being my first time covering a natural disaster I struggled to cope with the sheer immensity of the situation. Down each street and highway I could see no end to the flooding except for the high ground of freeway overpasses lined with abandoned cars. Thai military vehicles and flat-bed trucks slowly made their way through the waters, loading up individuals to transport them to a safer area across the Chao Phraya river. At one point a man I was photographing spoke to me and said, “I am sorry you come to Thailand. We are not happy anymore. We have no home.”

While it is completely understandable to fall into despair after loosing one’s home I am awestruck by the general positivity of the Thai people. The reaction I received from most people wading through the brown and murky waters seemed to affirm that though they have lost almost all of their worldly possessions they are still thankful to be alive and with loved ones. It is truly a beautiful experience to witness a loving and compassionate spirit arise in individuals, as well as an entire nation, in a time of so much pain and suffering.

A boy and his father row through the streets.

A man helps carry an elderly woman through the water.

Child floating in a basket.

A woman squats on a sand bag wall waiting to be picked up.

Boy wading through the water.

Pulled from the flood.

A man carrying his possessions to safety.

A father assists his son through the flood.

A woman praying atop a bridge.

Preserving Buddhist Culture

2011-10-22T16:18:00.000-07:00

After winding through the crowded and endless back alleys of Bangkok's Chinatown, filled with mechanic shops, industrial supplies, and men with oil covered hands, I entered a small but somewhat known area by the name of Ban Baht, or the Monk's bowl village. This cluster of low roofed shacks, tucked away in a small corner at the base of the Golden Mountain Temple, is where several families generate a living by forging the sacred Alms bowls used by Buddhist monks. Alms bowls, sometimes know as begging bowls, are one of the most quintessential objects in a monk's possession. Every morning monks will take to the streets holding out their bowls to receive food or money from fellow Buddhists; which are said to date back to when The Buddha was given a bowl of rice when meditating under a Bodhi tree.

In our current global system, the majority of Alms bowls are mass produced in China. The families of Ban Baht are some of the remaining craftsmen/craftswomen who strive to hold on to their ancient culture by forming these sacred bowls without using a factory. Eight steel pieces (representing the wheel of the Dharma) are hammered together, fired, and joined by copper before being polished and coated several times by black lacquer. This time intensive process provides a usual output of one bowl per day.

Because of this slow process the people of Ban Baht hold strong in their beliefs that their struggle to continue this sacred practice will be supported by faithful Buddhists and tourists alike.

Hand crafted Alms bowls kindling in the fire.

Woman tending to the Alms fire.

Craftsman showing his work in progress.

Grinding away.

Portrait of a craftsman.

The Next Journey: Documenting the Humanitarian Crisises Facing Thailand, Myanmar, India & Nepal!

2011-09-06T08:25:00.000-07:00

Ladies, gentlemen and everyone in between:

I would like to announce my newest photojournalism project which will span across the countries of Thailand, Cambodia, India and Nepal! I'm leaving the US on October 18th for the next five months and I want everyone to be as excited about this journey as I am; so here are some of the issues I'm setting out to document:

In Thailand I will try and live in the Mae La refugee camp along the northern Thai border to document the humanitarian crisis faced by people displaced by conflict in Myanmar. Connections with Buddhist community organizers will also be sought out and established to understand the instabilities of the provinces and to observe the best ways I can be put to use the surrounding refugee camps in need. I am also traveling into Mae Sot to help out as an international organizer for the ABMA (All Burma Monk's Alliance) who are in exile after the dismantling of the Saffron Revolution of 2007.

In India I will be focusing on the struggles of the Tibetan colony of Dharamasala, woman's liberation movement against domestic violence, the societal deterioration from rural suicides, child welfare, and laborer rights throughout the continent.

My work in Nepal will finalize the project by assisting in relief for those living in the Pashupati Bridhashram (old home) for the elderly. I will also examine the pacifist life of monastic Buddhists to articulate a juxtaposition piece between pacifist Buddhism & militant Buddhism; providing a framework for the future discourse on this ancient faith.

Interested in supporting this undertaking? Please donate what you can through the PayPal button and spread the word to all your lovely friends because this cannot be possible without the help of all of you! Funds are very tight and the time of departure is less than a month away. Every cent will count and NO donation is too small!

Please support independent photojournalism & humanitarian work!

Children of the Old City

2010-02-04T11:10:00.000-08:00

I decided to focus this post on the daily life of Palestinians inside of the occupied old city of Hebron. While violence is very prevalent by both the military and the settlers it is the daily occupation and humiliation that makes life so incredibly hard for the Palestinians living under these conditions.

Another hourly military patrol in the old city.

Two children waiting to pass a street that has been closed off for settler use.

Woman take their children around a military perimeter made for the arrival of a Jewish birthright tour.

Children walking behind two soldiers moving through the old city.

Israelis and Palestinians are forced to walk on different paths separated by a concrete barrier.

Children of the old city.

Two teenagers being detained at a checkpoint.

The old city is desolate by night time for fear of attacks. Taken at 5 pm.

The locks used to help safeguard shops against settler and military break-ins.

Reminders of the Holocaust

2010-02-01T10:49:00.000-08:00

I spent last week continuing my work in Hebron, a city under terrible violence. I will release more photographs of my latest experience in this city later on but I thought for this post I would show a more haunting series of images.

I entered the Jewish only neighborhood late Saturday morning and was completely alone. All of the streets were abandoned of even the Jewish residents because of Shabbat and the only thing I could hear was the chirping of mourning birds and the roar of F-16 jets flying overhead to patrol and bomb the Gaza Strip which is only a few kilometers away. Eventually I ran into another person who happened to be an orthodox settler giving a tour to his two friends. He was white with a full red beard, two curls hanging from his head, a yamika, belt tassels, talit and a fully equipped M-16 assault rifle.

As we passed each other he stopped me and asked what I was doing here. I told him I was going to the Abraham mosque which I new was up the street. “Are you Jewish?” he asked. Realizing I was all alone in a Jewish only neighborhood and they had assault rifles I told them that I was Jewish by blood but was never raised as one which was why I came to Israel to figure out my roots.

“Well remember that you are always with us. You are a Jew. You are never with THEM (pointing to the Arab cemetery across the street). You are always with us no matter what happens. The whole world hates you because you are a Jew and this is the only place you belong”.

I tried to smile and force a laugh out of my lungs when I said OK and walked away. I can’t even imagine how someone can live like that; in constant hate and fear that the world is out to kill you and to tell your children that everyone wants you dead because your a Jew. It was later on when I was walking through the neighborhood that I started to document the Jewish graffiti on the old Palestinian houses that only reminded me of the Nazi swastika markings on the Jewish doors in Germany.

These are just a few photographs of the door markings in the old Palestinian neighborhood.

West Bank Rising Up: Nabi Saleh

2010-01-31T12:15:00.000-08:00

This week I decided to cover the weekly demonstration in Nabi Saleh, a village north of Ramallah. Unlike Nil’in and Bil’in who protest against the wall, Nabi Saleh’s demonstration focuses on the settlement that is continuously growing on their land and the water well which has now been annexed by the Israeli military. Weekly demonstrations are now popping up all over the occupied West Bank and now includes Bil’in, Nil’in, Al Massarah, Sheikh Jarrah (E. Jerusalem) and now Nabi Saleh. Within the next few months several more names of villages and cities will join this list of anti-occupation demonstrations. For Nabi Saleh the village is entering it’s 5th week of protests so the IDF is using an incredible amount of force and violence in attempts to crush the movement before it takes hold. This village is very hard to document because the military controlls all the hills around the area and attacks from every direction. This week 20 people were injured and 8 children hospitalized as the military used tear gas, aluminum canisters, gas cannons (tear gas shot in waves of 60 canisters at a time), rubber bullets, live ammunition and SKUNK (chemical sewage water propelled like a fire hose).

Demonstrators gather in the streets in protests of settlement

Israeli military cutting the road to protest the settlement

Protester approaches the military with stones in hand

IDF rushing into the village to break up the crowd

A child running away from chemical sewage water

Rural Resistance

2010-01-24T14:13:00.000-08:00

As a photographer it is easy to focus your work on the ‘action shots’, images of soldiers with guns or some unimaginable image of violence from war. When most people think about the Palestinian resistance they think about children throwing stones against armored cars and masked fighters taking up arms against one another. This is only one side of the resistance. Resistance in Palestine can take many forms: peaceful, violent, cultural, musical, religious, artistic and rural.

Helping the Palestinian resistance in the SSH (South Hebron Hills) results in the basic act of surviving. This not-so-simple act is due to the intense amount settler violence that takes place because of the extremely small Palestinian villages with little to no media coverage. These extremely zionist settlers poison large fields of Palestinian crops destroying their food source, cut down and burn olive tree groves, poison livestock which later poisons the villagers who eat them, attack children on their way to school and have even shot livestock before killing the shepherds. For internationals living in the SSH activism is about spending the day out with the shepherds in the hillside to help stem the violence from the settlers which is often watched over or even joined by the Israeli military. It is an overwhelming experience when the act of living becomes resistance.

This photo series focuses on the rural resistance of living from the indigenous Palestinians in the SHH region. One week ago settlers from a nearby settlement came down and destroyed a Palestinian’s olive grove which held about 20 trees. In response the local farmers gathers a handful of internationals and replanted the destroyed olive trees. During the planting settler children came out with slingshots as the military pushed the Palestinians off of their land and declared it a closed military zone. In an act of resistance the trees were planted regardless of the orders and dangers at hand.

A shepherd tends to his roaming flock outside the remote village of Al Tuwani

A boy passing time with his herd on a hillside

A Palestinian resisting occupation by planting an olive tree

A child raises the Palestinian flag while looking at a settlement across the valley

The SHH - South Hebron Hills

The Chaos of Covering Cairo

2010-01-21T06:58:00.000-08:00

A woman silently protesting in front of a line of Cairo police.

I left occupied Palestine on christmas day 2009 and travel to Egypt across the Sinai desert where I spend 3 days in the village of Nuweba waiting to meet the Viva Palestina convoy bringing medical aid and supplies to the occupied Gaza Strip. The reason I spent 3 days in Nuweba was because the Egyptian government was denying the convoy entrance into the country and it soon became apparent that they were going to have to take a different route. I called a contact and heard that similar cases where taking place inside the country and that international activists where amassing in the capital city of Cairo.

The actions that took place inside the capital city varied depending on the location and group performing the action itself. Some were direct action blockades, sidewalk protests, embassy sit-ins and of course endless negotiations. Instead of talking about the actions that took place I think it would be more important to address why things failed in the end. ‘Code Pink’ is an organization that was at the front of the ‘Gaza Freedom March’ (GFM) which never criticized the Egyptian government’s help on the Gaza blockade or the newly built wall for fear of not being allowed entrance to the occupied strip. By not creating any waves with the government they single handedly cut out and ignored all Egyptian activist groups who were more than willing to help.

When the time came for the march the government rejected all access into Gaza leaving Code Pink and GFM to quickly put together demonstrations in Cairo, a city and political system where they were completely unaware of the power and structure of the government they were now facing. Eventually the GFM decided to bring in Egyptian activists for help but even then when the time for organizing came the Arab voice was pushed back and overwhelmed by western words. At one point it was said by an American organizer that “This is our march! If the Egyptians want to join us they are more than welcome!” ..... I want to thank the international activists for giving the Egyptians the right to protest in their own country! You proclaimed your where here in solidarity but were unable to see your own destructive and colonialist ideas.

On the response to the actions themselves I can only say that the Egyptian government is nothing more than a childish tin-pot dictatorship. As a photojournalist I would actually prefer to work inside of Israel than Egypt. Israel at least tries to accommodate the lie that they are a democratic country and that there are rights. In Egypt, if you get in the way of the government and its grip on power you are simply removed by any means necessary. Taking a photograph can instantly make you the unpleasant center of attention by police and I have had a tug-of-war for my camera. Internationals leaving Cairo in the direction of Gaza were pulled off the bus and were forced back to the capital. In one action people where punched, kicked and woman where dragged out by their hair. All of these horrible acts are even worse for Egyptians where being arrested is almost a guaranteed torture sentence and political assassinations can shadow over activist organizations.

Americans protest their government's involvement in the Gaza war.

Protesters are surrounded by riot police.

Cairo riot police use violence to disperse protesters and media.

Some international protesters were injured during the demonstration.

A Rabbi for peace is upset with the news that the convoy will not enter Gaza.

An elderly woman is pulled out from the crowd.

Police violence does not break the protests as demonstrators rally again.

A photograph of activists raising a Palestinian flag on the Giza pyramids.

Monsters in Green

2010-01-15T08:45:00.000-08:00

Palestinian child outside of a refugee tent.

*For those who have been patiently waiting for my project from Cairo, I am still working on editing my photographs and collecting my thoughts. I have re-entered the Middle East and returned to Palestine where the violence has tremendously escalated all over the West Bank with nightly raids, threatening phone calls and the disappearing of Palestinian and International organizers/activists. These are the most recent photographs and accounts from the Bi'lin.*

A soldiers aims his gun with live ammunition at a crowd of protesters.

Upon my return to Bi’lin all of my friends and ‘family’ greeted me with smiles and a loving embrace as we celebrated with a large cooked meal. Even after all of my travels and despair I finally felt calm again being back in Palestine, a population that feels like my own people. By midnight people at the gathering dispersed and went home to their families as me and the other activists went to the community center to edit our work and talk to our own families back home. With little not no rest I still felt fully awake at 3 am and decided to go relax at my friends house.

A soldier firing tear gas into a crowd down the road.

Soldiers entering the village of Bi'lin for a ground invasion.

Half way to your destination my Palestinian friend stopped when we were in the middle of the graveyard behind the village mosque as if sensing something in the air.

I asked him “What is it?”

After a pause and deep inhale he looked through the tree and said “Something is not right.”

We stood silent for a seconds and then the phone call came in. A house on the other side of the village was being raided.

A soldier aiming his gun directly at civilians at a lethally close range.

We quickly turned around and sprinted back in the direction that we came from. The cool night air rushing down my lungs left me with the idea of how many kids find themselves in positions like this? When we reached the house the military had already blocked everything off with 3 armored cars and squads of soldiers in the field surrounding the house. There was nothing I could do. Every time I raised my camera it was blocked by a bright glair from a soldier’s flashlight and every time I moved closer to the house I was pushed back until I was grabbed at the chest by a soldier who said “Stop or you will be arrested!” The 3 stars on his shoulder showed he was the commander and there was no joking in his voice. I was at a loss. For only 3 seconds a man appeared from the house being pulled by soldiers until he was locked in the armored Jeep. Even with all of the cameras and video recorders no clear image was able to capture the man being taken away behind the towering wall of monsters in green who hide behind guns. Just as fast as the Jeep pulled away into the night the foot soldiers disappeared into the fields. Monsters in green who disappear into the inked night to hide behind their walls.

In a last act of desperation the mother runs after them to the edge of her balcony screaming “Why did you take my son from me!? Imagine your own child being stolen from you!”

Right before they disappeared into the fields she gave her last cry of accepting her loss, “How can you do this to me!?”

A cameraman waiting for help after being injured by a thrown stone.

They were gone as quickly as they came. The man they arrested was nicknamed ‘Sox’, a friend who welcomed me back home only hours ago at my welcome back gathering. The military has been trying to arrest him for quite some time so he has been fleeing his home in fear of imprisonment. He could not stand to be in hiding away from his family for so long and decided to spend a night or two with them before disappearing again.

He was stripped away from us all in the middle of the night for protesting against the apartheid wall that stole his land and I don’t know when I will see him again or what lies ahead in his future.

At the end of it all the mother lay on the floor weeping praying for the grace of god to help protect her son and bring him home. There was nothing I could do to comfort her. I could not even talk to her or hold her hand and tell her everything will be OK because I am a man and I am forbidden to make contact with a married muslim woman. My heart felt as if it’s weight was ripping it in two as I did the only thing I was allowed to do... say good night as we left her crying on the ground for her lost son. An overwhelming feeling of anger, hatred, sadness, failure and helplessness all mingled into one and the only thing that kept me from crying was writing this message to you.

Monsters in green who hide behind walls and guns.

I will never be the same person again.

Three soldiers waiting for orders to advance.

Hebron: A City Strangled by Occupation

2010-01-02T16:11:00.000-08:00

**I am currently in Cairo to attempt to get into Gaza. I will not be able to get online for awhile, but hope you will take the time to read about my experiences in Hebron**

The more I think of how to explain Hebron to you, the more I realize it is truly impossible to describe what goes on here. This stunningly beautiful city is currently the most violent location in Palestine. The city is split in two parts H1 & H2. Palestinian controlled H1 is a noisy, bustling center. Merchants and food venders yell loudly as honking taxis pass by, but as you make your way toward H2, the occupied old city, things quickly start to change. The number of people in the streets drops dramatically, and you will notice more closed and barred shut shops. Further down the path you find almost all stores closed. Only a few families living under intense poverty conditions try to make a living here. They sell their goods to the few tourists that dare enter the city and they make a maximum of $3 a day to feed their family with.

One of the first things I do when entering an unknown area is to walk around and get a feel for my surroundings. However, walking around in Hebron is no simple task; dotted with over 100 checkpoints movement becomes increasingly difficult. It is wise to walk against the walls and under the canopies here to avoid being pelted with objects (trash, rocks, urine, feces) from settlers above, who have taken control of the houses and streets. The illegal settlements have military outposts on rooftops and snipers to protect the occupants. Water is only imported to the city once every three weeks. The water pipes are controlled by the Israeli government who regularly cut the water supply to all Palestinian families for weeks.

I get hassled much less Palestinians, no one attempts to hide the racism or hatred here; there is no need to. The soldiers, who routinely humiliate the citizens of Palestine, can make moving around the city mildly annoying or impossible by closing a checkpoint or detaining people for no reason and for any amount of time.

Sometimes it is quite obvious the soldiers are just bored and get a kick out of making people suffer. I witnessed a group of soldiers detaining several Palestinian teenagers. While the military looked on and laughed, the teens were forced to stand in a circle, sing and dance to, the Israeli national anthem.

In the Jewish-Only H2 neighborhood soldiers are the only people you will see on otherwise abandoned street corners. Most walls and doors are covered with graffiti and almost all have the Star of David on them (this is done by both the IDF and settlers). I spoke with a Palestinian man about the area and he explained “it's a ghost town, but they don’t want to tell you who the ghosts are.”

With physical violence and humiliation also comes a sometimes hopelessly crushing feeling of not knowing what lies in the future. Psychological warfare is a main tactic progressively pushing insanity on the Arab inhabitants. As I write this I can’t truly explain or describe what it is like living under occupation in this city. Photographing resistance fighters in other regions in the West Bank is different than in Hebron, here every Palestinian is a resistance fighter. They may not pick up a gun or throw stones but every day is a fight for life.

Witnessing this occupation can be difficult beyond anything I imagined before I got here. Coming from the U.S. I am not unaware of racism, but seeing it so proudly displayed here sickens my soul. Yet even with all the horrific events I see, I still find myself smiling at times, this is because of the children of Palestine. Their smiles and welcoming attitudes lift my spirits, when I am with them all of the pain I feel and sacrifices I have made make sense, and those feelings pale in comparison to the hope I have that these children will be free and able to determine their own future without humiliation or imprisonment.

A Israeli military sign outside of an outpost. H2, Hebron.
A military patrol passes an elderly Palestinian man. Old city, Hebron.
Palestinian waiting at a check point to the Abraham mosque (H2).
Nightly military patrol, Old City.
Forcefully closed Palestinian neighborhood now Jewish only, H2.

Looking over Hebron from inside an Israeli bunker.
Peace sign from an Israeli lookout station.
A woman being denied passage into the Jewish only section on Hebron.
A child being interrogated during a night patrol.
A small girl in a stare down with soldier, Old City.
Child doing backflips off a wall after school lets out.

Handprints of kids paint a Palestinian house.

Leaving for Gaza

2009-12-17T04:34:00.000-08:00

Next week I will be leaving the occupied West Bank and will be heading south in attempts to enter the Gaza Strip. As most of the world knows, Gaza is an epicenter for the Palestinian struggle and is still trying to recover from the most recent war exactly one year ago. The ‘War on Gaza’ that happened last year was the event that pushed me to begin my work here in the occupied territories and it has been a very long and trying year. I would like to send my greatest thanks to those who have supported my work; your encouragement has kept up my spirits and led me to do great things.

The majority of my trip has been funded by myself (welcome to the life of an independent photojournalist) and for those who have donated to me and given financially support, I owe the greatest of debts. However, since my journey began nearly 3 months ago my money is staring to run low and is only continuing to dry up. The cost of travel and my work does take funds and this trip to Gaza is no easy task so I taking this time to reminding people that the my work as an independent can only be possible from supporters such as yourself.

If you are interested in donating or continuing your support please feel free to do so by clicking on the ‘Donate’ button. Every bit counts and there is NO donation that is to small! Please help support my work in Palestine and my future work in Gaza.

Toulkarem Refuge Camp

2009-12-13T09:34:00.001-08:00

Posters and paintings of martyrs plaster almost every wall as you enter what is obviously Toulkarem refugee camp. Bullet holes and tank shells still paint the buildings from the 2nd Intifada. This camp holds around 25,000 people and is one of two camps outside of Toulkarem city. Streets are only slightly wider than shoulder width. Several families cram together and live in rooms as small as 14’ - 10’, which makes canned sardines look free range. Like refugee camps all over the world, there is no guarantee of safety or a future for its inhabitants. These are a few photographs of their life and the world they live in.

A building peppered with bullet holes from the 2nd Intifada.

A boy walks past a war torn wall.

The hand prints of a child smeared on an alley street.

A woman passes the day sitting on a street corner.

I Wonder...

2009-12-09T09:09:00.000-08:00

Child martyr graves from the 2nd Intifada, Jenin refuge camp

*This was a personal e-mail that I wrote to a good friend of mine. She recommended that I post it and share with everyone.*

I am writing this to you now with numb fingers and toes from a dark room with no electricity and crumbling walls. The desert winter has struck and once again the sky is crying and screaming with the voice of thunderclaps. I have been in Palestine for 2 months now and I am exhausted both physically and mentally. My brain feels soft and my thoughts are less focused while my body stiffens and begins to weaken and deteriorate like a rock against an angry sea. The only thing that is keeping me going is what got me here in the first place, my heart. My heart continues to speak to me every day feeding my soul and renewing my passion for life and struggle. It has brought me here this far on this amazing journey and has made me into the person I am today (without sounding to egotistical... I believe I’m pretty amazing).

When I left home everyone told me that I would see a new world and become a whole new person. At first I rejected these statements when I began my work here. In fact, at times, I even became a little angry with these comments. In my eyes I was the same person. I have always had an activist mind set, I have always followed my heart and it seemed like I was just the same amazing kid now with more experience. It has become clear to me now that I was wrong.

I never thought I would have done the things that I have done here. To accomplish so much, gain so little and be happy with that result. I never thought I would stand between a child and a soldier’s gun nor did I think that I would make the judgment calls that I have. The sounds of grenades go off around you, the snaps of pullets fly by in the air while people are running from the waves of tear gas. In front of you is a teenager lying on the ground in pain from the bullet that has entered his upper thigh... he tries to remain still and does not give the military the pleasure of hearing him scream out in agony while we are stuck behind rocks and trees taking cover. Your first instinct is to run out and help, but as soon as you make a move away from your cover the sounds of war blast you back and freeze your body. Your mind races as you evaluate all the possible variables that go into your safety. Then your heart speaks clearly and overruns your mind. “Fuck it!”

Once you clearly hear your heart, everything becomes so simple. Some times you just have to say “fuck it” and run out against their tanks and bullets. I hear the words of Steve Biko flow through my mind when he said “it is better to die for an idea that will live, than to live for an idea that will die”. I no longer have this lingering fear of death. When a soldiers lifts his gun all I can do is call him out and I only fear what will happen if we falter from action and let their hatred win. My heart speaks to me and again it is clear that their apartheid will never win. It might win battles but for them the war is already lost. Our love, determination and devotion to one another is stronger than any bomb and even though they may jail us, torture us or even kill us, it will never falter our sense of freedom.

But I must be honest... it is not always the uplifting fight that I am telling you about. The occupation is a master at physiological warfare and at times the crushing fear of isolation takes hold and you cant help wavering and wanting to quite. I often ponder how I ended up here. Where did my love come from? My passion? My courage? I wonder if things can ever go back to the way they were. How could they after so much evil has happened? I wonder if the air will ever glide cleanly again against the a pure sea? I wonder if the land will ever recover what it has lost and reclaim the marks of humans? I wonder if the blood that has stained this land red can be recycled into something wonderful and peaceful.

I wonder...

Nil'in's Continued Struggle Against Occupation

2009-11-28T11:27:00.001-08:00

Last week the village of Nil'in continued to protest against the Israeli occupation and apartheid wall. This demonstration lasted for several hours as Palestinians faced off against Israeli soldiers who fired individual tear gas rounds, gas in waves of 30+ canisters, and live ammunition against the protesters.

A man is fenced off from his land by the Israeli military.

Tear gas streaming over the apartheid wall.

A resister slings stones over the wall while overlooking a tire fire and tear gas.

A Red Crescent medic looks out across waves of falling tear gas.

Resistance fighter being carried to the ambulance after being shot.

Ni'lin's Resistance Against Occupation

2009-11-16T15:09:00.000-08:00

This week I traveled to Ni'lin, a very dangerous village where residents are fighting for their freedom from occupation. Anyone who protests here faces more than just rubber bullets*, concussion grenades, skunk**, and military vehicles that lob tear gas into crowds in giant waves. The Israeli Defense Force shoots metal tear gas canisters directly at the heads of protesters. The canisters, which are meant only to be shot in the air, have killed and wounded many and continue to harm more each year. Using the tear gas canisters as they do gives protesters little time to dodge their path, but is still not as bad as when they use live ammunition to disperse crowds of demonstrators.

When a real bullet is fired directly at you there is no time to react, you will be hit before you even hear the shot's echo through the air. If you are lucky enough to hear the sharp whistle of a bullet flying past your head or the loud snap on a rock as the bullet impacts it a few feet away instead of feeling the bullet hit you, all you can do is run for cover and hope that their aim is off. You cannot fight bullets with your skin & bones. This fight goes on for hours as resistance fighters and photographers duck and dive behind rocks, olive trees or ditches in the ground to find cover. The IDF shoots at anyone with the Palestinians, sending a message to others who may want to join the resistance; their lives will not be of any more value than the Palestinians.

Towards the end of the struggle I found myself trapped in an olive grove with a few fighters. The rest of the demonstrators had been badly tear gassed and pulled back up the hill, leaving us in between the clouds of gas and the military. As we pulled back, ducking from tree to tree the military opened fire. I could hear the bullets zooming past as I looked for places to hide, I was fortunate enough to make it out uninjured, but the man next to me wasn't as lucky. Red Crescent medics showed up quickly to take him out on a stretcher, the military continued to fire upon the medics. It took a minute or two of making our way through bullets, gas and rocks before the injured fighter got to further help. To the freedom fighter, I wish I could have done more and I am sorry that I was only able to document your suffering with my camera.

* Rubber bullets are actually metal bullets covered in rubber

**Skunk is a liquid mace that smells worse than a burst septic tank

The resistance continues to pushes forward through the tear gas.

Resistance fighter takes cover from fire behind an olive tree.

Portrait of child fighter struggling for freedom.

Waves of tear gas engulf the field.

Palestinians use stones as their weapon against the Israeli military.

Red Crescent medics carry away a resistance fighter after being shot.

Tearing Down the Israeli Apartheid Wall in Occupied Palestine

2009-11-10T07:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday marked the 20th anniversary of fall of the Berlin wall. In occupied Palestine, Palestinians and internationals decided to honor this event by tearing down a section of their apartheid wall in Qalandiya, which cuts off Palestinians from entering into Jerusalem. I was fortunate enough to be an observer with my camera and was able to capture the fall of this wall which has been one of the proudest moments in my life.

I am also posting a link to the video of the event, filmed by my good friend and 'brother', Haitham Al Katib.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MaBpvauMFLU

Scaling the apartheid wall.

Palestinian and international activists tearing down the wall.

The fall of the Israeli apartheid wall!

Victorious activist celebrate in the breached wall before rushing into Israeli territory.

20th Anniversary of the Berlin Wall & The Fall of Borders?

2009-11-09T07:20:00.001-08:00

With today being the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall I thought it would be important to address the issue of borders. Living in a region where apartheid and occupation is still thriving, it is hard for me to celebrate Berlin’s freedom like the rest of the world. All of the media coverage on the event that took place 20 years ago makes it seem as if that was the end of all apartheid walls. Of course, this is complete rubbish as most of us know because today there are more walls and borders than ever before. The following images are photographs I gathered to show the constant use of apartheid walls in our world and only the last photograph was taken by me. Some of these barriers have fallen, some are still standing strong but it is common knowledge that eventually all walls, no matter how tall, will come crashing down.

Berlin Wall, Germany.

The wall that separates Ireland from English occupied N. Ireland

The 'security wall' cutting through the city of Baghdad, Iraq.

The border wall that separates America from Mexico.

The apartheid wall that surrounds the West Bank, occupied Palestine

A Letter from the West Bank

2009-11-06T00:11:00.000-08:00

Daytime in Bil’in is fairly quiet. It is mostly spent working on projects (for those who are fortunate enough to be employed), saying hello to friends in shops and street corners with a lot of free time to drinking tea and coffee. At night, when people are sleeping, is when the violence breaks out. Every night a group of Palestinians & solidarity workers gather on the roof tops, staying awake to watch for military raids. Most of the peace workers travel during the day where foreign presence is necessary and return at sundown for night watch in Bil’in.

However, this particular day was different. Around 4 p.m. I was in a house doing my spinal stretches, (trying to keep my back in tact so I can stay here as long as possible), when a man ran in yelling, “soldiers, soldiers!” I ran outside, when I reached the rooftop I saw a convoy of military vehicles had passed through the apartheid wall. They were speeding down the road to the village; an immediate sense of fear and urgency griped my throat and head. What could I possibly do to stop a military invasion!? All I could think of was to grab my camera and sprint to the streets. I have learned in a few weeks here to trust that my instincts will guide me in the right direction.

After attaining information from the people running in the streets, I figured out where they will enter the village from. I can hear the roar of the engines growing louder, they will arrive soon. I realize that the other international Lorenzo from Italy, is still unaware of what is about to happen and is on the street where the soldiers will soon enter. I run down the street to a chorus of people yelling “la! la! la!” (“no! no! no!”). I continue to run anyways because I fear what might happen to him; this is his first day in Palestine, he arrived only 3 hours ago. I get to the room where he is checking his email and tell him there are soldiers coming. We sprint back to the street where humvees armored to the teeth and with metal rods stretching across all the windows to protect against rocks are arriving. The last humvee is that of the Shibak, the Israeli secret police. All I can do is take photos and hope that my international presence will be of some help.

Once they fly past I run through the streets choked with smoke from burning tires and other flammable objects. Children yell insults at the soldiers as they hurl rocks from the streets and rooftops. This is the only way they can resist the occupation that illegally holds them prisoner in their own homes, but also threatens to occupy their minds and dreams. Exhaustion has been taking over my body, but it is no match to the adrenaline, which seems to override everything. Oxygen that burns like a oven’s heat, shoots from my lungs, my heart teeters on the edge, threatening to bursting as it pumps battery acid through my veins. Families barricaded inside their houses cheer me on as they look out their window and see me running through alley ways to catch up. Luckily the resistance in the village, and hopefully the international presence, deterred the soldiers. They had to pull back across the wall.

It seems like a small victory when the people in the village yell “welcome!” and smile widely as I walk back through the streets. That night everyone stands on edge during the watch, waiting for the roar of the engines to return with truck lights coming across the dark horizon. Every time we see the flares from an Apache helicopter light up the night our hearts skip a beat, relaxing only when the light goes out without hearing gunfire. That night nothing else came. The other peace workers return and take over; I finally get to sleep for a solid 4 hours.

When I wake, a strong wind blows through the morning sky and we embrace the first rain of the year. The air is crisp and the rain is cool as we all stand outside letting it soak into our skin. When the clouds pass the warm sun returned and the fresh smell of the land rises up to engulf the village. The rest of the day is peaceful so Eric (a Scottish activist) and I take the time to have a wonderful Middle Eastern sunbath on a rooftop.

By sundown the atmosphere returns to a state of tension. The town next to us engages in conflict. There is no international presence in that village and we receive no word on what is happening. We can only prepare for the defense of Bil’in as we look across the land at the besieged village, with thick black smoke rising from behind the mosque. Finally, a call for people to help with the town’s resistance comes through, but the connection cuts out before finishing the message. We get no more messages from the village and all we can do is look out, fearing what the people are going through, as the sound of several explosions echo across the hills. Over time, everything becomes quiet and the land returns to its state of stillness, the day brings a quieter atmosphere.

The next night storm clouds return, lightning and thunder crack over us and we are back to waiting for the next invasion to occur. This is how life is under occupation. The Palestinians that live here have no choice for action or change. I wait with them; we come from all around to stand in solidarity, as they try to live under the fear of the Israeli occupier; who rule on their own terms, with no regard for Palestinian life.

I have made it through this far without being hurt. Having no time to think in most situations, I have my instincts to thank for that, but I can only think about how long this streak of luck will last. Perhaps this is a common feeling for someone going through their first war experience, but sometimes I get a heavy feeling. It covers me like a thick blanket and the fear that I will not make it back suffocates me. I do not know what is going to happen tonight or any other time, and it is a weight that makes me want to cry and give up. I am scared.

Yet, through this all, I am finding a strength inside that was hiding; the strength all living things posses to endure, to hold on to love, even when surrounded by hardship. To resist extinction and have the resilience to live life and never give up.

Introduction to Al Khalil - Hebron

2009-11-05T12:47:00.000-08:00

I am about to release a series of photographs from the occupied city of Hebron which is currently one of the most violent areas in the occupied West Bank. The city itself has been divided into two sections. H1- which is controlled by the Palestinian Authority and is relatively peaceful, and H2 - which includes the old city is STRICTLY controlled by the Israeli military and illegal settlers. In this section of this city (H2) there are countless house raids, military patrols through the old city and 500 very violent settlers with 5 soldiers to every 1 settler! Palestinians are forbidden to walk down many streets and are detained for hours on end with over 100 checkpoints throughout the H2 section.

In the coming weeks I will be focusing on the issue of this beautiful city as it is being strangled to death by occupation. Until that time, here are some photographs to get you anxious for my upcoming project.

Palestinians use fencing to protect themselves from settlers attacking them with objects from above, occupied Hebron.

Inside an Israeli checkpoint. Old City, Hebron

2009-11-04T06:36:00.000-08:00

Caterpillar machines are used to destroy Palestinian houses, farms on an almost daily basis.

A man looks out across the stolen & occupied land of the West Bank towards the apartheid wall.

Bil'in's Struggle for Freedom: Part 2

2009-10-30T10:53:00.000-07:00

The violence in Al Aqsa mosque has spread through the West Bank.

Protesters in a stand of with IDF soldiers.

Tear gas covers the field and chokes everyone in it.

Military convoy and occupied homes in Jerusalem.

2009-10-28T08:43:00.000-07:00

Military convoy enters the village of Bil'in.

The grave of Bassem who was shot & killed during a protest in Bil'in.

Jewish settlers forcibly occupy a Palestinian home in Sheikh Jarrah, Jerusalem.

Settlers claim that the house & land was given to them by god.

Bil'in's Struggle for Freedom: Part 1

2009-10-23T12:26:00.000-07:00

Every Friday at noon, the village of Bil’in stages protests and resistance to the Israeli occupation and apartheid wall. The demonstration, consisting of local villagers and foreign peace workers, almost always ends with tear gas, concussion grenades and in some events rubber bullets. Here things can turn violent quickly and have, in the past, ended in civilian deaths.

These are the first photographs from a series that I will be posting from the resistance protests in the village.

Boycott, Divest & Sanction.

Cutting the fence under a sniper's watch.

Foreign peace workers join in solidarity with the Palestinians.

Breaking borders.

Protesters in a stand off with the military.

Solidarity workers.

Endless volleys of tear gas is the main technique to break up the protests.

Youth use stones to fight off the highly equipped military.

Protester in a fight with an armored Israeli vehicle.

Teenager resisting occupation by slinging rocks at the IDF (Israeli Defense Force).

Fighting back.

Health Care and the Apartheid Wall

2009-10-22T03:20:00.000-07:00

**Note**: I am still trying to work out the bugs on my blog so click on the photos to make them larger! Thanks for your patience!

I have been living in occupied Palestinian for a little more than a week now and I already have an endless amount of things to say. I have never meet a culture with so much generosity, compassion and hospitality. The people living under occupation have been stripped of everything by the Israeli government with their living conditions falling under poverty standards to American eyes and still they find ways to give you everything they have. After meeting a villager for only 5 minutes he offered me a house on his land and asked if I wanted to move to Palestine permanently! Families insist on giving you a place to rest, food to eat, water to drink, clothes to wear and money for traveling, even after you continuously insist against it. Paying for anything is almost forbidden and leaving money around the house for them to find later almost becomes a game.

Considering our current American healthcare system (or complete lack there of), this is something that happened to me that I felt I had to tell:

Yesterday I had to go to a small Palestinian hospital in a local village to receive needed treatment. When meeting the doctor I showed him my injury and his eyes opened widely after viewing it for on 1/2 a second (this is never an expression you want to see a doctor make when looking at you). After a very broken conversation in english the doctor wrote me two prescriptions in arabic and gave me an injection of something (I still have no clue what it was or how my body would react to it. Our language barrier prevented me from asking questions and understanding what was happening). At this point I was beginning to pass out and was in so much pain I didn’t care and just trusted that everything would work out. When I entered the hospital I only had 20 shekels in my pocket (about $6 American). Now the truly amazing part about this story is that when I explained to them that only 20 shekels the doctors refused to accept any my money! They knew that I was a foreigner here to help with the olive harvest and stand in solidarity with the Palestinian people. They explained to me how as Arabs and Muslims it would shame them to accept such a payment and that they were grateful that they could help me. A quote that will always stick with me was when I was told “You were injured, did you think that we would forget about you? We are all very poor but we must take care of the people.” Then they called a taxi and sent me on my way. On the ride back to the village I was living in I couldn’t stop thinking that this is something that would NEVER happen in America.

Here are my first set of photos from the West Bank. I hope you all enjoy them.

Please support independent photojournalism and the ever growing push to end the occupation and create a free Palestine!

Occupied West Bank, Nablus District

Al-Saway Village, West Bank, Overlooking Illegal Israeli Settlements

A brother comforts his little sister, West Bank

Illegal settlements that are encircling the city of Bethlehem

Apartheid Wall

Walking along the wall

Art from inside a Palestinian refugee camp, occupied West Bank

Israeli checkpoint. (Yes I know its not a good photo, but there isn't much time to set up a shot when you are trying to smuggle your camera across the boarder!)

Independent Photojournalism Needs You!

2009-07-05T21:55:00.000-07:00

Since my previous post was a brief history on the violent conditions forced onto the Palestinian people, I thought this would be a good time to expresses my personal connection to this occupation.

Next month, October 2009, I plan on traveling to the occupied Palestinian territories to stand in solidarity with those who are fighting for their basic human rights. As you know, I will be covering these issues through photography in order to raise global awareness on the conditions in which these people are being forced to live under. While in the occupied territories I will be covering the olive harvest, Illegal settlements and settler violence, the separation (apartheid) wall, resistance in all forms, the children of Palestine, and woman’s rights. Of course all of this is costing me thousands of dollars; money that is becoming harder to find with our sinking economy. So in order to raise the needed funds I am selling everything I own (except for my equipment) and have been living off of $5 a month for the past year by constantly relying on food banks. The past few months I have also chosen to be homeless in order to put rent money into a plane ticket and food for the trip.

Over the past year I have been pulling my resources and have been able to save up enough money to buy my camera for the trip, as well as my computer and the other equipment and hardware needed to post my photos and stories directly from Palestine. However, with one month to go there are still expenses to be covered! I am still raising the money I need for a plane ticket, camera lens, food, water, extra memory cards/batteries, general housing when I am not couch surfing and other unexpected charges.

As an independent photojournalist the majority of my funding is through donations and comes directly from you the reader! So I am appealing to the global community and those who stand for Palestine and international solidarity to help support me and my trip to Palestine! Contacts and those willing to house me during my trip to Palestine are also greatly appreciated!

Please donate and help support independent photojournalism and the ever growing push to free Palestine and end the Israeli occupation!

In love and solidarity,
Kyle Merrit Ludowitz

To me, the saying “Never Again” - is serious.

2009-06-07T13:05:00.000-07:00

By the end of 1945 the Second World War was over. This six year war ended with 49 million civilian deaths. Some of these were quick deaths caused by an artillery strike or sniper bullet. Others deaths were slow and painful resulting from starvation and diseases. Six million of these people died inside “camps” after suffering calculated humiliations, torture and extermination practices carried out by Nazi Germany under Hitler’s command; they meant to ethnically cleanse the world of all Jewish people & their supporters. After uncountable numbers of horrifyingly gruesome survival tales were revealed to the world, the global community responded by saying “Never Again” to genocide.

It was May 14, 1948 when the British government relinquished its colonial grip on Jerusalem and the Palestinian territory. Coincidentally, immediately after the British withdrawal, the radical Zionist movement, (backed strongly by western powers), declared Israel the first Jewish state, ignoring the lives and rights of the people already living there. This day is known to Palestinians as ‘Nakba’, the great catastrophe. The Israeli military forced over 700,000 Palestinians off their land, forcibly changing their status from resident to refugee. Displaced from their homeland, the Palestinians continue even today, to have their land and lives robbed from them to make room for the natural growth of the illegitimate ‘new owners’.

60 years after the words “Never Again” resounded around the globe, the Palestinian people still live in an Apartheid state. Over the past few years we have witnessed the building of the Israeli ‘security wall’ (Apartheid Wall). This cement wall surrounds the West Bank and Gaza cutting off Palestinian’s access to their farms, water, jobs and in some cases splitting families apart; this wall makes the Palestinian territories an open aired prison. With endless checkpoints and towers in the Israeli occupied territories movement and medical aid between villages has become nearly impossible.

I became aware of these acts of ethnic cleansing around the time I began considering photography as a profession. Studying the Middle East and meeting Zoriah helped me find the intended focus of my photographs, in crisis and humanitarian issues. I was unsure of where I would travel to start this career, until December 27th, 2008. It was then that Israel launched ‘Operation Cast Lead’, which is commonly known as the ‘War on Gaza’. This massacre left over 5,000 wounded and 1,400 Palestinians dead; a huge portion were innocent woman, men and, it is estimated, 500 of these recently deceased were children! The Israeli military destroyed hospitals, mosques, schools and United Nations aid buildings as well as 4,000 homes, leaving 50,800 Palestinians homeless (but still trapped in Gaza). Israel has gone through great lengths to keep their war crimes out of the media’s lens; for several years they have accomplished this goal, leaving most people around the world unaware of the atrocities committed in the name of self defense.

To me, the saying “Never again” is not a slogan meant to pacify people after WWII. It is a commitment the world made to stop ethnic cleansing and genocide wherever they occur! The world can no longer renege on this commitment by watching Israel continue these heinous deeds against Palestine and its people. As with the South African apartheid, we must come together to globally boycott, divest and demand sanctions against Israel. Fighting this Zionist oppression does not make you anti-Semitic; this is a common strategy Israel uses to keep people from questioning their actions. Israel must stop this! If they keep screaming anti-Semitism when people investigate their monstrous crusade of injustice they may find themselves in a ‘boy who cried wolf’ scenario when real anti-Semitism shows its face.

For Palestine this “conflict” is about basic humanitarian rights and survival. As a photojournalist, an activist and a human being I chose to dedicate my life to covering these critical issues in Palestine and across the world. I will focus many of my projects in the Middle East and other areas being destroyed by racist post-colonial systems and American imperialism.

Subscribe to my blog to stay posted with my work and future projects. Please donate and support independent photojournalism. All of this work would be impossible without the help of you, the reader! Feel free to comment and ask questions, I will respond as soon as I am able!

The Future's Children

2009-06-03T20:12:00.000-07:00

In my life I am lucky to have the presence of some amazing children. I often observe these care-free spirits laughing and playing games only they understand. When I look at these children I cannot help but think of the mess they are inheriting. I wonder what they will do with the aftermath of our mistakes. I think of all the children who were not born into a comfortable life, who are forced so young to work 12 hour days for one dollar-or Less and my heart hurts! Children who salvage their toys from trashed washed up on the shore and who sometimes go days with one or no meals, who will never know what it was like to be a care-free 5 year old.

Throughout my future travels I will attempt to capture the amazing resilience children have to situations in which their survival seems impossible to others. We can learn a great many things from watching children interact with the world; and their imaginations open inspiring windows into their hearts. I would like to share with you one of the many children in my life that has inspired me to work for the rights of children all over the globe.

Subscribe to my blog to stay posted with my work and future projects. Feel free to comment and ask questions, I will respond as soon as I am able!

Olympia, WA

Courage in Dissenting

2009-06-03T17:02:00.000-07:00

Signs are flown in protest of "Stop-Loss" Tacoma, WA

A few weeks ago several people were arrested while using their bodies to block the streets to the Port of Tacoma, WA. This was part of a continuing direct action movement protesting the militarization of Washington Ports. Military equipment, mainly striker vehicles, are being deployed or redeployed to Afghanistan and Iraq through our local ports! The equipment was eventually able to be moved to a secured location over several nights, while most people slept. It is important that we continue to protest and take direct action to demilitarize our ports and keep these wars and all their costs in the public eye, especially when our government tries to make protesting of these shipments invisible.

Days after the striker shipments a crowd of protestors gathered to protest stop-loss, “Don’t ask/Don’t tell”, and to show support for the 10,000 soldiers being deployed from Fort Lewis to Afghanistan by protesting the war. This ‘operation’ is quickly becoming known as ‘Obama’s War’ as a result of his pledge of an additional 40,000 troops to the cause. I cringe when I hear it referred to as “the good war”-as if there is such a thing!

All ages of people showed up to Freedom Bridge (a main overpass along Interstate 5), to support the troops, encourage them to know their rights and protest the Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq! Many demonstrators are currently enlisted soldiers; veterans of the Iraq and/or Afghanistan war that have dissented from the military by refusing to be deployed. After being exposed to war and occupation firsthand, to the horrors and injustices, these courageous soldiers have found the strength to resist! The number of dissenting soldiers is on the rise and hopefully, like in past wars the army will be forced to change its war mongering-politics, military strategy and withdrawal from these imperialistic wars and illegal occupations! Our soldiers will accomplish nothing but putting their lives in danger by further interrupting the lives and self determination of the countries of the Middle East! War is fought for old men with the lives and courage of young boys. Only death & destruction are the only sustainable products of war!

Subscribe to my blog to stay posted with my work and future projects. Feel free to comment and ask questions, I will respond as soon as I am able!

Protest for peace over Interstate 5. Tacoma WA

Soldiers still being deployed to Afghanistan wonder if Obama's military strategy is any different.

American peace flag flown over "Freedom Bridge" Tacoma, WA.

Beyond your door step.

2009-05-06T19:59:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the first post of “Beyond Your Door Step” a blog aiming to make a difference by showing people who may never see war, occupation, poverty, and other related issues through photography. These images will show the real reality of how these conditions devastate and complicate the lives of people forced to live in them. Hopefully my photographs will inspire you an others to get involved with these conflicts and help be part of the solution!

My name is Kyle Merrit Ludowitz. I was born and raised in Los Angeles, CA, and I have always been interested in political science, economics, history and photography. I am a straight, white, non-disabled male that lives in the U.S.A. Even though I was raised in a privileged area, I was not sheltered from racism, sexism, classism and ageism and I became an activist at a young age. As I see it, it is my responsibility to use the privilege and freedom I was born with, to help make a difference in the lives and struggles of other people. Learning about what my government does in the world and watching these actions be covered up has made me realize I have to bring these atrocities to the eyes of the people that blindly support these shockingly scandalous deeds! For this great knowledge, I thank all the mentors I have been blessed with in my life.

I moved to Olympia, WA two years ago to attend The Evergreen State College, where I have continued my studies in political science, human rights, history an economics. During this time I have become very interested in many forms of art and activism. With photography I am able to blend my passion for creating with my need to act and spread information. I focused mostly on environmental issues around the Puget Sound and other local areas. It was at the 2008 Rachel Corrie Foundation’s International Peaceworks Conference, when I met Zoriah Miller. When I saw the photographs he had taken in Palestine, Iraq and Afghanistan, I knew my future was in crisis & humanitarian photojournalism and war photography. Zoriah has been a great inspiration, a personal hero and a wealth of information for me; I strongly encourage you to check out his work at www.zoriah.com.

Thank you for taking an interest in this blog, it will take a lot of people working together to be the change we need to see in this world! In the following posts, I will attempt to show you what I see as some of our most important local & global issues. Subscribe to my blog to stay posted with my work and future projects. Feel free to comment and ask questions, I will respond as soon as I am able!

In love and solidarity,

Kyle