Parts two and three are also up, if for some reason you cannot get to them on the Herald-Leader's website.
You'll find Part II here.
You'll find Part III here.
And again, the audio slideshows are here...
I've been so impressed with all the positive feedback this series has gotten. The Haakes are a great story. They offer an inspiring glimpse of other cultures and of the real good that just two people can accomplish in this world.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Read all about it!
Today marks the official end of a nearly two-year project documenting a Nicholasville couple, Mike and Rebecca Haake, and their journey to adopt a special-needs child from Haiti. It has been a long process but an incredibly rewarding one. I have a new respect for parents in general, but particularly for people like Mike and Rebecca who choose to show Christ's love by welcoming into their family special kids like Kerwin who demand extra attention.
My special thanks to the Haakes and my wonderful wife, Erika - all of whom were gracious and generous with me beyond what I deserve.
And thanks also to my great editors at the Herald-Leader, for fighting to give this story so much space (three straight days on A1 with large inside spreads) in a time when newspapers cannot afford to do so.
You can check out the first of the three-part series here. To really get the whole story and see a lot more images, be sure to click the link to the multimedia galleries in the stories, or here.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Fun in Port-au-Prince, then Home
We'll be flying down to Port-au-Prince tomorrow for a day of sightseeing and to shoot a bit for a newspaper story I'm finishing up, then heading back home on Tuesday. Luckily, we've got some great (yes, I know I've overused that adjective) friends from the mission going with us and it should be a fun time in Haiti's capital. Actually, it's one of the poorest and most dangerous cities in the world, so I suppose most people don't look at PAP as much of a tourist spot. But any place in Haiti that has restaurants, ice cream, paved roads and air conditioning is pretty good in my book!
Thanks so much to all of you who have been praying for us and keeping up with us these past few weeks. As always, God has used the time in redemptive ways. We're excited about the direction our journey is taking and about all the good that is happening at Northwest Haiti Christian Mission.
As for me, I'm ready for cold weather and some Thanksgiving turkey.
Thanks so much to all of you who have been praying for us and keeping up with us these past few weeks. As always, God has used the time in redemptive ways. We're excited about the direction our journey is taking and about all the good that is happening at Northwest Haiti Christian Mission.
As for me, I'm ready for cold weather and some Thanksgiving turkey.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Solidarity (a tiny bit)
It’s been a long and busy week for us, but a good one. Erika and I have truly enjoyed the fellowship of the staff here, and we’ve been able to participate in some great times of prayer and encouragement for them.
That said, I am tired and (I must reluctantly admit) I am already looking forward to going home. I relish my time here and there’s plenty of work yet to be done, but it has been a long year with so little time to rest. The end of this trip will mark the beginning of a sort of respite for us – even if it just means working ordinary, 40-hour weeks for a while.
The American missionary staff here continues to impress me – especially those who sincerely love the nationals and also desire to live as humbly and simply as they can, developing something like solidarity.
For me, the task of documentary photography offers just a glimpse of that solidarity. Earlier this week, I met Yolanda, a disabled, single mother of two. Yolanda cannot afford rent so sleeps on the floor of a house of voodoo. Though her twisted legs often give out underneath her, she walks with her girls to the mission each day to get a bowl of rice for her two daughters – crossing mud flats, a swift river, and what seems like a few miles of terrain to get here.
I made the trek twice – once to find her house, and again early the next morning to document her trip. I was muddy, exhausted, and I destroyed a good pair of sandals (Andy, you knew better than to wear sandals in the wet season…). I cannot imagine walking it in her shoes.
To document her story required stepping into it, if only for a fleeting moment. My Haitian guide told me I was a very magnanimous American for working so hard to learn her story. I thought that was funny, because by those standards she might just be the biggest hero in Haiti.
Some images from her day:
That said, I am tired and (I must reluctantly admit) I am already looking forward to going home. I relish my time here and there’s plenty of work yet to be done, but it has been a long year with so little time to rest. The end of this trip will mark the beginning of a sort of respite for us – even if it just means working ordinary, 40-hour weeks for a while.
The American missionary staff here continues to impress me – especially those who sincerely love the nationals and also desire to live as humbly and simply as they can, developing something like solidarity.
For me, the task of documentary photography offers just a glimpse of that solidarity. Earlier this week, I met Yolanda, a disabled, single mother of two. Yolanda cannot afford rent so sleeps on the floor of a house of voodoo. Though her twisted legs often give out underneath her, she walks with her girls to the mission each day to get a bowl of rice for her two daughters – crossing mud flats, a swift river, and what seems like a few miles of terrain to get here.
I made the trek twice – once to find her house, and again early the next morning to document her trip. I was muddy, exhausted, and I destroyed a good pair of sandals (Andy, you knew better than to wear sandals in the wet season…). I cannot imagine walking it in her shoes.
To document her story required stepping into it, if only for a fleeting moment. My Haitian guide told me I was a very magnanimous American for working so hard to learn her story. I thought that was funny, because by those standards she might just be the biggest hero in Haiti.
Some images from her day:
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
A Funeral
The mission and its gifted staff save a lot of lives, but sometimes one gets away.
Naomi was born with no hands or feet, and her mother (supposedly) died shortly after the delivery. The baby could not hold down food. Though she likely would have survived in a U.S. hospital, no one expected her to live in Haiti more than a few hours. Remarkably, she held on for a week – and received more affection during that week than many babies get in a lifetime.
When she died, a parade of short-term missionaries took her to the town cemetery and put her in a shallow hole between two crypts. She was buried in a plywood casket.
The relief of her departure overshadowed the mourning, and Naomi finally got in death something that she never had in life: hands and feet.
(first image by Erika Olsen, rest by Andy Olsen)
Naomi was born with no hands or feet, and her mother (supposedly) died shortly after the delivery. The baby could not hold down food. Though she likely would have survived in a U.S. hospital, no one expected her to live in Haiti more than a few hours. Remarkably, she held on for a week – and received more affection during that week than many babies get in a lifetime.
When she died, a parade of short-term missionaries took her to the town cemetery and put her in a shallow hole between two crypts. She was buried in a plywood casket.
The relief of her departure overshadowed the mourning, and Naomi finally got in death something that she never had in life: hands and feet.
(first image by Erika Olsen, rest by Andy Olsen)
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Burning Food
Sometimes, this place makes no sense.
Environment alone sometimes makes it nearly impossible to get anything done in this country. Power goes out, Internet and phones die, generators break down, tropical downpours force everyone inside, rivers rise, roads churn into mud, transportation is impossible.
So you’d think that, in a country where nothing is easy and even finding a mouthful of food can be an unbearable chore, at least the government would cut people a little slack. Especially the people who invest their entire lives in helping others – people like us.
But even sensibility can wash away during the rainy season. Which might explain why the Ministry of Health would force an NGO to burn roomfulls of medicines and food because they are “expired” or set to expire in a couple of weeks. Though in the States it is common knowledge that items like peanut butter are edible and even tasty well beyond their “freshness date,” the Haitian government believes that peanut butter in fact turns poisonous on that date, and thus it cannot be fed or given to anyone. Same goes for things like Tylenol, powdered milk, medical blood test strips, and yes – decaf coffee.
So their solution is for organizations like ours to burn mountains of food and medicine as gawking crowds of sick and hungry people look on.
To be sure, the mission is very aware of the government’s dislike of expired goods and we are vigilant to never have them in our warehouses or pharmacy. We do all we can to respect the authorities over us. That is why we regularly remind donors in the States that we cannot accept expired goods as donations.
But at the same time, if a malnourished boy is starving before your eyes and you have a box of powdered milk that is set to expire tomorrow, would you give it to him? Or would you pour it on the dirt at his feet?
The Ministry of Health, apparently, prefers the dirt over its own people.
Photos:
Hundreds of jars of peanut butter the government ordered burned.
A shot from the beach road in St. Louis du Nord.
A drummer in a voodoo parade honoring the “Demon Anniversary,” a voodoo holiday that falls somewhere around Halloween. His hat says “Jesus is my Boss.”
Some mission staff walking the dark streets of St. Louis du Nord, shopping for gasoline to power a backup generator.
Environment alone sometimes makes it nearly impossible to get anything done in this country. Power goes out, Internet and phones die, generators break down, tropical downpours force everyone inside, rivers rise, roads churn into mud, transportation is impossible.
So you’d think that, in a country where nothing is easy and even finding a mouthful of food can be an unbearable chore, at least the government would cut people a little slack. Especially the people who invest their entire lives in helping others – people like us.
But even sensibility can wash away during the rainy season. Which might explain why the Ministry of Health would force an NGO to burn roomfulls of medicines and food because they are “expired” or set to expire in a couple of weeks. Though in the States it is common knowledge that items like peanut butter are edible and even tasty well beyond their “freshness date,” the Haitian government believes that peanut butter in fact turns poisonous on that date, and thus it cannot be fed or given to anyone. Same goes for things like Tylenol, powdered milk, medical blood test strips, and yes – decaf coffee.
So their solution is for organizations like ours to burn mountains of food and medicine as gawking crowds of sick and hungry people look on.
To be sure, the mission is very aware of the government’s dislike of expired goods and we are vigilant to never have them in our warehouses or pharmacy. We do all we can to respect the authorities over us. That is why we regularly remind donors in the States that we cannot accept expired goods as donations.
But at the same time, if a malnourished boy is starving before your eyes and you have a box of powdered milk that is set to expire tomorrow, would you give it to him? Or would you pour it on the dirt at his feet?
The Ministry of Health, apparently, prefers the dirt over its own people.
Photos:
Hundreds of jars of peanut butter the government ordered burned.
A shot from the beach road in St. Louis du Nord.
A drummer in a voodoo parade honoring the “Demon Anniversary,” a voodoo holiday that falls somewhere around Halloween. His hat says “Jesus is my Boss.”
Some mission staff walking the dark streets of St. Louis du Nord, shopping for gasoline to power a backup generator.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Two People
I met two people today with memorable stories.
The first is 5-year-old Ben. He has been battling an infection in his knee for years, among other problems. An American surgery team helped him get better in the mission's clinic. When I saw his little crutches, I could not resist photographing something that - even in Ben's hurt - is a beautiful glimpse of God's humor in creation.
The other is Nicole. She walked with her children for 15 days from south or Port-au-Prince to visit our clinic. She was suffering from congestive heart failure, and her baby was severely malnourished. It is certainly debatable whether she needed to travel as far as she did to receive reasonable care, especially given how much pain she must have been in. But it is humbling to think that despite the hard journey and all the hospitals she must have passed along the way, she still felt the need to come to this mission on the opposite end of the country.
The family returned home today, but not before praying with a group of missionary women. It was a moving scene.
Tomorrow is an "office day," finishing up some production...
Ben
Nicole
Andy Olsen photos
The first is 5-year-old Ben. He has been battling an infection in his knee for years, among other problems. An American surgery team helped him get better in the mission's clinic. When I saw his little crutches, I could not resist photographing something that - even in Ben's hurt - is a beautiful glimpse of God's humor in creation.
The other is Nicole. She walked with her children for 15 days from south or Port-au-Prince to visit our clinic. She was suffering from congestive heart failure, and her baby was severely malnourished. It is certainly debatable whether she needed to travel as far as she did to receive reasonable care, especially given how much pain she must have been in. But it is humbling to think that despite the hard journey and all the hospitals she must have passed along the way, she still felt the need to come to this mission on the opposite end of the country.
The family returned home today, but not before praying with a group of missionary women. It was a moving scene.
Tomorrow is an "office day," finishing up some production...
Ben
Nicole
Andy Olsen photos
City Slickers
As part of a plan to improve Northwest Haiti Christian Mission’s main orphanage, the organization relocated most of the orphans from Port-de-Paix (city) to a new facility in a rural part of the Northwest zone. The idea is, it builds character being in a place where you grow your own food, draw your own water, and learn to live more simply. I think it’s a great idea.
They made the big move yesterday, and Erika and I tagged along with a few other missionaries. It’s roughly a two or three hour journey from the main campus where we’ve been staying.
It was a long and tiring but productive day, despite moments when neither of us felt we had any productivity in us. Erika shot a host of orphan portraits for sponsors, and I pulled out the “white-sheet studio” again. I had planned to spend the night and shoot some “day in the life” scenes the next morning, but it didn’t work out and, to be honest, I didn’t mind getting to come back and sleep in my own bed.
We made some nice portraits of a few townspeople. I always enjoy photographing people in more rural areas of Haiti, who have been less “Americanized” in general and visually are more representative of the country’s roots.
They made the big move yesterday, and Erika and I tagged along with a few other missionaries. It’s roughly a two or three hour journey from the main campus where we’ve been staying.
It was a long and tiring but productive day, despite moments when neither of us felt we had any productivity in us. Erika shot a host of orphan portraits for sponsors, and I pulled out the “white-sheet studio” again. I had planned to spend the night and shoot some “day in the life” scenes the next morning, but it didn’t work out and, to be honest, I didn’t mind getting to come back and sleep in my own bed.
We made some nice portraits of a few townspeople. I always enjoy photographing people in more rural areas of Haiti, who have been less “Americanized” in general and visually are more representative of the country’s roots.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Marathon Surgery
We got in to the mission early this morning. There’s a wonderful breeze cooling things off as October finally sets in here in the Caribbean.
An American orthopedic and general surgery team is visiting the mission for another couple of days, so I spent the afternoon photographing the long line of cases they were taking care of. From a spinal surgery on a baby with spina bifida, to correcting a girl’s club feet, to correcting hernias and even sewing a child a new belly button – it’s amazing what these teams are capable of.
I talked to one surgeon who expressed how hard these kinds of trips can be, performing dozens of surgeries but not being able to stay long enough to provide comprehensive follow-up care. The permanent American and Haitian staff at our clinic will take great care of them, but there’s no substitute for having a surgeon around.
I’m always astounded by the deep needs in the community the mission serves, and its reputation elsewhere. I met a mother today whose daughter was suffering from severe malnutrition. They walked for 15 days from the other side of Port-au-Prince to get here for care. Hard to believe, even as I write it…
Some scenes from surgery recovery today:
Andy Olsen photos
An American orthopedic and general surgery team is visiting the mission for another couple of days, so I spent the afternoon photographing the long line of cases they were taking care of. From a spinal surgery on a baby with spina bifida, to correcting a girl’s club feet, to correcting hernias and even sewing a child a new belly button – it’s amazing what these teams are capable of.
I talked to one surgeon who expressed how hard these kinds of trips can be, performing dozens of surgeries but not being able to stay long enough to provide comprehensive follow-up care. The permanent American and Haitian staff at our clinic will take great care of them, but there’s no substitute for having a surgeon around.
I’m always astounded by the deep needs in the community the mission serves, and its reputation elsewhere. I met a mother today whose daughter was suffering from severe malnutrition. They walked for 15 days from the other side of Port-au-Prince to get here for care. Hard to believe, even as I write it…
Some scenes from surgery recovery today:
Andy Olsen photos
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Poverty and C-Span
We flew into Port-au-Prince tonight to spend the night here before catching a flight to the Northwest tomorrow. Erika and I will be here for a few weeks this time, shooting and producing various projects for Northwest Haiti Christian Mission.
It’s easy enough to fly into Haiti and on to the Northwest in one day, but exhausting. It makes a big difference getting a good night’s sleep if you have to hit the ground running the next day. We started this trip sleep-deprived after working on building a shed at home well after dark last night (a big thanks to our friend, Cody, for finishing it up for us!).
What’s on TV in the hemisphere’s poorest country? Why, C-Span, of course – the only station that comes in on our hotel’s cable television. Maybe congressional hearings on subprime mortgages get high ratings here, something akin to reading the phone book aloud in a foreign language.
Though I have no data to prove it, I suspect there were more mosquitoes in our hotel room than outside. But we were grateful for air conditioning and a ceiling fan that worked. We watched it spin briefly (almost as entertaining as the mortgage hearings) before knocking out asleep.
Andy Olsen photo
It’s easy enough to fly into Haiti and on to the Northwest in one day, but exhausting. It makes a big difference getting a good night’s sleep if you have to hit the ground running the next day. We started this trip sleep-deprived after working on building a shed at home well after dark last night (a big thanks to our friend, Cody, for finishing it up for us!).
What’s on TV in the hemisphere’s poorest country? Why, C-Span, of course – the only station that comes in on our hotel’s cable television. Maybe congressional hearings on subprime mortgages get high ratings here, something akin to reading the phone book aloud in a foreign language.
Though I have no data to prove it, I suspect there were more mosquitoes in our hotel room than outside. But we were grateful for air conditioning and a ceiling fan that worked. We watched it spin briefly (almost as entertaining as the mortgage hearings) before knocking out asleep.
Andy Olsen photo
Monday, October 20, 2008
Wedding Season ‘08: Closed
We just shot our last wedding of the year and it was a great one, ending things on a high note. Now we’re rushing to gear up for one last trip to Haiti for the year, before we finally get to take a few days of long-overdue and much-needed vacation in November.
We’ll pick back up with the weddings in March, and will post a few more of this year’s here when they’re ready.
We’ll pick back up with the weddings in March, and will post a few more of this year’s here when they’re ready.
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Michael and Mary Audrey
From the beginning of their engagement shoot, I knew we would enjoy Michael and Mary Audrey's wedding. They were one of the most in love couples I have possibly ever met. And it was hard for their interactions with each other to not be a little contagious.
I felt like everything we captured was natural. The highlight, though, was the same for us as it probably was for almost every other guest: A completely original act where the bride and bridesmaids circled Michael while twirling umbrellas and dancing to Rihanna's "Umbrella." Each girl tried to open her umbrella over Michael's head, but none succeeded -- at least, none until Mary Audrey showed up and tried hers.
Corney, I know, but it all went down remarkably well and was certainly a show stopper. I must say I enjoyed the images that were to be made there.
Thanks, guys, for an altogether great wedding. May your love for each other stay as contagious as it was that day.
I felt like everything we captured was natural. The highlight, though, was the same for us as it probably was for almost every other guest: A completely original act where the bride and bridesmaids circled Michael while twirling umbrellas and dancing to Rihanna's "Umbrella." Each girl tried to open her umbrella over Michael's head, but none succeeded -- at least, none until Mary Audrey showed up and tried hers.
Corney, I know, but it all went down remarkably well and was certainly a show stopper. I must say I enjoyed the images that were to be made there.
Thanks, guys, for an altogether great wedding. May your love for each other stay as contagious as it was that day.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Addendum to the previous post: This was posted not one or two, but THREE days after I wrote it. In Haiti, Internet is hard to come by except at the nicest hotels (don’t worry, that’s not saying much considering hotels here). And even at those hotels, it might quit just as you’re about to update your blog and send some critical emails. Nothing you can do about it, except wait until you get to the gleaming amenities of Miami International Airport.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Post-Hurricane Haiti
:: In the spirit of the election season, I’ve opted to post a long-winded entry, since we’re all honing a tolerance for long-windedness these days. So here’s to the verbosity in all of us... ::
This was already slated to be my shortest trip to Northwest Haiti, and it was cut even shorter by the two days I spent alternately vomiting or lying on a cot with an IV in my arm, plus another day recovering (thanks, Curtis, for being there to photograph all the gross details). Of the five days I’ve been here, I guess I’ve done a solid two days of shooting – not accounting for all the time I’ve been stuck in the back of a pickup truck or a motorcycle, bouncing along roads that should barely pass as creek beds.
I don’t write this because I am anyone special – all my friends here, American or otherwise, have certainly endured worse. I only write it because this is life in Haiti, and more often than not, it is hard. It is always good for me to come here. Every minute reminds me of all the truths in life that get clouded out in the States, the truths that we sometimes cannot see there even when we try our hardest.
This region was ravaged by tropical storm Hanna and hurricane Ike earlier this month, and much of the rest of Haiti had already suffered torrential rains from Gustav before them. Flooding here, some of the worst in recent memory, paralyzed most of the country – cutting it off from food, gas, and other vital supplies. Thousands lost their homes, hundreds lost their lives, and perhaps even worse – almost all the nation’s agriculture was lost for the year.
Which is why I’m here – documenting hurricane recovery efforts on behalf of Northwest Haiti Christian Mission. And those efforts are only beginning, because the conditions created by the storms are almost certain to cause even higher food prices here, more malnutrition and hunger, diseases, and political tension.
Sometimes my job is no fun: To meet bony children on the street who rub their bellies and plead for help, or to see a mother and her children reduced to living in a slaughterhouse because they have no home and no one to take them in.
This week I photographed men shoveling excrement-laced muck from their city streets (I know because I splashed around in plenty of it). I watched men and women fighting each other like animals at a gas pump to get a gallon or two before the short supplies ran out.
Mostly I shot portraits of some very amazing people who lost everything to storms that did not care they had next-to-nothing in the first place. As I was dehydrated and struggling to walk a few days ago, I sat while a Haitian I barely knew poured cold water over me and guided it across my face with his hand, whispering in my ear.
God humbles me each time I think I am coming to a place to do good through my presence. Instead, it is always these times when I come more closely into His presence. It is only through a continued journey of obedience that I even keep returning here.
Truth be told, I am not much in love with Haiti as a place, not like I ever was with so many Latin American countries to which I’ll probably never return. It is not an easy place to love, no matter what anyone tells you. But I have found a great joy in allowing myself to be used to help those whom the rest of the world refuses to help, to invest in the people whom no one but God considers to be a good investment.
It is a great irony of heaven that I have been so blessed in a place seemingly so devoid of blessings.
All that said, I am always glad to return home to my dog and my beautiful wife, which I’ll do tomorrow. She is the best investment of my life there ever was, and coming home to her is always the brightest part of being away.
We’re both looking forward to being back in Haiti in just a few weeks. Until then, I’ll be content if I can just fall asleep tonight on my cot without getting soaked by the blowing rain or bitten by too many mosquitoes.
…oh, and I’m fighting a cold, to top it all off…
(A special shout out to Curtis Rogers and Janeil Owen, without whose help I would not have been able to make a single image this week.)
Some photos from this (abridged) workweek:
Puddle jumping in the muddy and flattened gardens near the river Trois Rivieres, which overflowed its banks. Andy Olsen photo
Muddy water from the river Trois Rivieres flowing into the Caribbean. Andy Olsen photo
Men unloading bags of flour, a hot and scarce commodity in the area. Andy Olsen photo
A boy living in a slaughterhouse-turned-shelter in Chansolme, a hard-hit area. Andy Olsen photo
Relief food being dished out to children at a church, also near Trois Rivieres. Andy Olsen photo
And finally, a few portraits of folks in their destroyed homes (or where said homes used to be). Andy Olsen photos
This was already slated to be my shortest trip to Northwest Haiti, and it was cut even shorter by the two days I spent alternately vomiting or lying on a cot with an IV in my arm, plus another day recovering (thanks, Curtis, for being there to photograph all the gross details). Of the five days I’ve been here, I guess I’ve done a solid two days of shooting – not accounting for all the time I’ve been stuck in the back of a pickup truck or a motorcycle, bouncing along roads that should barely pass as creek beds.
I don’t write this because I am anyone special – all my friends here, American or otherwise, have certainly endured worse. I only write it because this is life in Haiti, and more often than not, it is hard. It is always good for me to come here. Every minute reminds me of all the truths in life that get clouded out in the States, the truths that we sometimes cannot see there even when we try our hardest.
This region was ravaged by tropical storm Hanna and hurricane Ike earlier this month, and much of the rest of Haiti had already suffered torrential rains from Gustav before them. Flooding here, some of the worst in recent memory, paralyzed most of the country – cutting it off from food, gas, and other vital supplies. Thousands lost their homes, hundreds lost their lives, and perhaps even worse – almost all the nation’s agriculture was lost for the year.
Which is why I’m here – documenting hurricane recovery efforts on behalf of Northwest Haiti Christian Mission. And those efforts are only beginning, because the conditions created by the storms are almost certain to cause even higher food prices here, more malnutrition and hunger, diseases, and political tension.
Sometimes my job is no fun: To meet bony children on the street who rub their bellies and plead for help, or to see a mother and her children reduced to living in a slaughterhouse because they have no home and no one to take them in.
This week I photographed men shoveling excrement-laced muck from their city streets (I know because I splashed around in plenty of it). I watched men and women fighting each other like animals at a gas pump to get a gallon or two before the short supplies ran out.
Mostly I shot portraits of some very amazing people who lost everything to storms that did not care they had next-to-nothing in the first place. As I was dehydrated and struggling to walk a few days ago, I sat while a Haitian I barely knew poured cold water over me and guided it across my face with his hand, whispering in my ear.
God humbles me each time I think I am coming to a place to do good through my presence. Instead, it is always these times when I come more closely into His presence. It is only through a continued journey of obedience that I even keep returning here.
Truth be told, I am not much in love with Haiti as a place, not like I ever was with so many Latin American countries to which I’ll probably never return. It is not an easy place to love, no matter what anyone tells you. But I have found a great joy in allowing myself to be used to help those whom the rest of the world refuses to help, to invest in the people whom no one but God considers to be a good investment.
It is a great irony of heaven that I have been so blessed in a place seemingly so devoid of blessings.
All that said, I am always glad to return home to my dog and my beautiful wife, which I’ll do tomorrow. She is the best investment of my life there ever was, and coming home to her is always the brightest part of being away.
We’re both looking forward to being back in Haiti in just a few weeks. Until then, I’ll be content if I can just fall asleep tonight on my cot without getting soaked by the blowing rain or bitten by too many mosquitoes.
…oh, and I’m fighting a cold, to top it all off…
(A special shout out to Curtis Rogers and Janeil Owen, without whose help I would not have been able to make a single image this week.)
Some photos from this (abridged) workweek:
Puddle jumping in the muddy and flattened gardens near the river Trois Rivieres, which overflowed its banks. Andy Olsen photo
Muddy water from the river Trois Rivieres flowing into the Caribbean. Andy Olsen photo
Men unloading bags of flour, a hot and scarce commodity in the area. Andy Olsen photo
A boy living in a slaughterhouse-turned-shelter in Chansolme, a hard-hit area. Andy Olsen photo
Relief food being dished out to children at a church, also near Trois Rivieres. Andy Olsen photo
And finally, a few portraits of folks in their destroyed homes (or where said homes used to be). Andy Olsen photos
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Wedding du Jour: Chris and Sharay
::: To those how are growing weary of the endless stream of wedding photos, take heart: The Wedding du Jour tour is nearing its end. To those of you who can't get enough of this stuff, there are still a couple more to go before I'm all caught up. :::
I hope this isn't a dangerous thing to say, but sometimes my favorite photos from the day happen before the bride ever puts on her dress. I know, I know: Primping is decidedly girly, and many male photogs don't have a high tolerance for it. I've had corrosion on my lenses from being around so much hair product.
But unlike a wedding, the prep time is almost never scripted, and it can be prime time for grabbing some color that says a lot about a bride (or groom).
In the case of Sharay, she and her girls had their hair done at a family-owned salon in town. It's a place where a photo of Madame CJ Walker - a 19th Century woman who became the first African American millionaire by selling hair products - looks
down upon patrons and employees wearing an inspiring gaze.
Sharay and Chris must have caught that gaze some time ago. They are a savvy, business-minded couple who worked their way together through two MBAs at the University of Kentucky. They're the sort that seems to have everything put together far more than I ever will. And best of all, they're one of the most unassuming, easy-to-please couples I've ever met.
However, that didn't stop Sharay from sneaking away periodically to call the shots from her cell phone in a dark corner of the church. :)
Chris and Sharay, your wedding was a pleasure. Thanks for letting us be a part of it, for dancing incredibly well, and making us feel like part of the wedding party.
I hope this isn't a dangerous thing to say, but sometimes my favorite photos from the day happen before the bride ever puts on her dress. I know, I know: Primping is decidedly girly, and many male photogs don't have a high tolerance for it. I've had corrosion on my lenses from being around so much hair product.
But unlike a wedding, the prep time is almost never scripted, and it can be prime time for grabbing some color that says a lot about a bride (or groom).
In the case of Sharay, she and her girls had their hair done at a family-owned salon in town. It's a place where a photo of Madame CJ Walker - a 19th Century woman who became the first African American millionaire by selling hair products - looks
down upon patrons and employees wearing an inspiring gaze.
Sharay and Chris must have caught that gaze some time ago. They are a savvy, business-minded couple who worked their way together through two MBAs at the University of Kentucky. They're the sort that seems to have everything put together far more than I ever will. And best of all, they're one of the most unassuming, easy-to-please couples I've ever met.
However, that didn't stop Sharay from sneaking away periodically to call the shots from her cell phone in a dark corner of the church. :)
Chris and Sharay, your wedding was a pleasure. Thanks for letting us be a part of it, for dancing incredibly well, and making us feel like part of the wedding party.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Wedding du Jour: Sam and Amber
Sam is the kind of guy you think about as you're watching the Olympics and wonder, shouldn't he be there?
Both he and Amber are the athletic match made in heaven, and they happen to also be great friends of ours. We wonder sometimes if we were their friends or wedding photographers first, and we're really not sure. Their wedding was so full of joking and laughter that we couldn't help but enjoy ourselves. Their chemistry as a couple is second to none, and I'm confident they will touch many, many lives for good in the years to come.
Most memorable quirk about their wedding? Their moniker as a couple, "Samber," was plastered on orange swag like coffee mugs and t-shirts, and given away as wedding favors. The groomsman politely cooperated with the theme by wearing the t-shirts for part of the reception, though one (anonymous) groomsman confided in me: "I don't quite get it, but I like Sam, so I'll do it for him."
I myself just sipped my coffee the other morning from my shiny Samber mug.
Both he and Amber are the athletic match made in heaven, and they happen to also be great friends of ours. We wonder sometimes if we were their friends or wedding photographers first, and we're really not sure. Their wedding was so full of joking and laughter that we couldn't help but enjoy ourselves. Their chemistry as a couple is second to none, and I'm confident they will touch many, many lives for good in the years to come.
Most memorable quirk about their wedding? Their moniker as a couple, "Samber," was plastered on orange swag like coffee mugs and t-shirts, and given away as wedding favors. The groomsman politely cooperated with the theme by wearing the t-shirts for part of the reception, though one (anonymous) groomsman confided in me: "I don't quite get it, but I like Sam, so I'll do it for him."
I myself just sipped my coffee the other morning from my shiny Samber mug.
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