Strength & Dignity
130800
Madagascar - Anjomakely
2013 August
Lari’s Reflections:
My son and I went to Madagascar with the organization Jesus Film Bike and a Backpack. We rode motorcycles to the remote village of Anjomakely. The combination of the motorcycles and Americans drew quite a lot of attention. This was our first trip to the village and while the rest of the group was setting up to show the film, another rider and I took off on the bikes to explore the village. I had already learned that although I could not communicate with words, a smile and an offer to take a photograph was an effective means of communication.
I headed into a complex of modest huts on the outskirts of the village. The children ran out to greet us with giggles and smiling faces. They were overjoyed when I took out my camera. They loved to look at their image on the back of the camera and before I knew it I had everyone from the compound posing for me. A woman wanted to show off the bowl of rice that she had made for dinner. An older man insisted that I photograph him and his Zebu calf. The culmination was a group photograph of the residents of the compound.
Through all this excitement I noticed the humble little store across the road and the woman who sat attending it. She was watching the commotion but reserved herself from joining in. I crossed the road and motioned to her that I would like to take her picture. She smiled, agreed, and proudly straighten her posture.
Because of the overwhelming response to the film, the organizers planned a second trip to the same village. I got permission to have prints made of my photographs and on our second trip we made a return visit to our new friends and gave them the photographs. The interpreters told me that it was the only photographs that they had of their family. But it was the modest store owner that affected me the most. She cried and hugged me and without language, we formed an unexplainable connection.
To everyone's joy, a church was planted that week and we returned on Sunday for its first service. This time when we pulled into the village, she was waiting for us. Gone were her dirty clothes and tied back hair, replaced by a pretty dress and her hair had been combed and styled to show its feminine locks. After the service she spoke to me through interpreters. She called me her angel that God had sent to bring her hope. Her husband had abandoned her and their small grandson. She was left with nothing except the stigma placed on her and the self-determination to endure it with dignity. To try and provide what little she could, she had converted her home into a small store for the outlying complex. She had been very depressed and feeling hopeless but then our visit changed that.
I was humbled. What had I done except take a few photographs? It was at that moment when the world seemed so small to me. It is so easy to see these cultures on TV and feel like we share nothing, an us/them view of the world. I was awakened to the shared soul of humanity. I was awakened to my purpose and to the power of a camera and a smile.
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