Back from Bolivia

I've just returned from a great trip to Bolivia with lots of great images of a very diverse and beautiful country. Here's a sneak peek of what is one of my favorite images from the trip. Keep watching for more.

Trinidad

A couple of weeks ago I took a whirlwind three-day trip to Trinidad to join a team doing urban ministry as they helped to host an open-air concert in downtown Port of Spain. Two local soca artists and team of teenagers from Canada was enough to draw a large interested and interesting crowd. The music was great, the message inspirational, and the people watching was at its best.

Uganda Part 3—Picking up the pieces

Watching War Dance recently, reminded me of my trip to Uganda three years ago. I was shocked to realize how quickly I had lost sight of the situation there. The media has forgotten about the tragedy in Northern Uganda, and in a way so had I. As I looked through many of my pictures from that trip, I was compelled to look into what's happened in the last couple of years.

If you don't know about the situation in Uganda, a rebel group called the LRA has been terrorizing Northern Uganda for the last 20 years—killing and mutilating villagers, and kidnapping an estimated 20,000 children to be soldiers and sex slaves—forcing hundreds of thousands of people into government protected camps. The Juba Peace Initiative is making steps to end the conflict and resettle the displaced. But with the Final Peace Agreement yet unsigned, the situation is precarious. Families struggle with the decision whether to remain in the camps in relative safety but completely dependent on international aid, or to move back to their ancestral lands to try to make a living and put themselves at risk for more violence.

Life is hard for children in and out of the camps. Former child soldiers struggle to integrate back into community life, children are left to fend for themselves while their parents walk long distances every day to farm, and all are vulnerable to abuse and lack of education. When I visited some camps around Lira three years ago, this was already the case, and I'm afraid that not much has changed for many of the children there. Here are a few more images from that trip.


The look on this boy's face still haunts me. I saw him at a food distribution at an IDP camp outside of Lira. What hardship has he seen in his short life?


Former child soldiers at the Rachele Rehabilitation Centre. Used as slave labour they likely witnessed brutalities that we can only imagine.


It's estimated that over 2,000 children have been born in the LRA. This baby was fortunate to be born at Rachele Centre rather than in the bush. His mother will have many challenges to overcome.


Babies caring for babies, while surviving family members work long hours to eke out a meagre living.


This little girl carrying her sibling on her back shaded from the hot sun by the gourd.


Hope for the future in these curious boys.

I stole my title from an excellent video posted on IRIN. Visit www.irinnews.org/film and look for Picking up the pieces (Northern Uganda)

Uganda Part 2—A lesson in beauty

I saw this beautiful little boy in an Internally Displaced People's camp in Northern Uganda. I didn't think he was beautiful at first. In fact, he was kind of annoying me. Every time I turned my camera back on the crowd of kids following me through the camp, he was always front and center with his messy face. I found myself wanting to somehow crop him out of the picture, wishing he would give up and drift off to the side. But then I really looked at him, with the eyes of my heart. He was a curious little boy, with bright eyes and a sweet smile, who just wanted his picture taken. It was a dangerous thing to do, and I knew I'd have dozens of tugs and taps for me to do it again, but after I took a picture of him I turned the camera around and showed him the tiny little preview picture on the back of my camera. It was that moment that I wish I could have caught, but it was just for me to enjoy and remember. His eyes got bigger, his smile got wider, and he danced away like a hero. I was completely convicted about my idea of beauty. Sometimes I can get so caught up in the surface stuff. But my prayer is always that God would reveal Himself to me in the subjects of my pictures. Even in the messiest, ugliest situations, we can find a glimpse of Him.

Return to Uganda

I saw the movie War Dance this weekend. This is a beautiful film about children regaining their dignity and hope in the midst of the instability of Northern Uganda. I highly recommend this film.

In 2005, the same year as the music festival featured in War Dance, I had the privilege to go to Uganda and to visit some of the Internally Displaced Peoples' camps close to Lira, where we observed large scale feeding projects, HIV/AIDS ministries, education projects, and a rehabilitation centre for children who had been rescued from the Lords Resistance Army. It was a terrible place, full of people in desperate circumstances, and yet hope and faith shone through. (You'll know what I'm talking about if you watch the film.) Here are a few pictures from that trip (there are more in the Journey gallery on the website.) Look for more in the coming days—I think this will be a multi-part post.

One of my faves

I love this picture. I love it so much that I put it in one of my website galleries, posted on my Facebook group, and used it as my blog link photo. I think it's obvious why it's one of my favorites. I caught this little guy at the perfect moment. Nobody was trying to make him laugh, but I do remember what he found so hilarious. I was in Vietnam with a group visiting some of the floating villages in Halong Bay. Hundreds of islets rise straight out of the water and fishermen and their families live in floating villages moored to the rocks—each tiny house lashed to its neighbor.  The children play in small boats the way kids here play on their bicycles. In order for us to get from our large boat to a floating school, we had to be ferried in small, round wicker boats sealed with tar. Dozens of kids rowed out to meet us and offer their services. I had just planted myself precariously in one of the little boats, when I looked over and saw two large men perched in one small boat, and a tiny girl at the helm. Just beyond her was the subject of my photo—her brother—killing himself laughing! I'm not sure what he found more hilarious—the impossibly small girl working the oars, or the two giants nervously clutching the sides of the boat.