Finally! After one-and-a-half long weeks of anticipation, I was given the time, space, and students needed to conduct my first photographic orchestra! It was wonderful. I picked up the 15 students after school from the hostel dining room, where they eat, play, and do homework before bedtime at 9pm. I had, approximately, two hours time in which to begin and bring to an end, this very first endeavor, for the children, into the photographic realm. I have been thinking about this first project for months now. I thought about beginning with a type of self-portrait project, as I knew that would be fairly easy for the children to understand. After some thought, I realized that the more fun and incredibly imaginative a project I can make this first one, that it would set the tone for the way I want these students to think about photography and making images - CREATIVELY. An issue with children overseas, which I also noticed at the hospital in Cambodia, is that there are finite terms for both learning and for the way in which you do things. There are set rules. There is no "outside of the box" thinking. It's just not cultivated or encouraged. In Cambodia, there wasn't even a word to translate for the English's "imagine," or "create." That was mind-boggling to me, but I understand it more now that I have learned more about each culture. These are all people who must do what is needed to survive, to get by, to provide the essentials of life for their families. So how do the children learn about being creative, being imaginative, coloring outside the lines? Well, that's where we come in - all of us; those of us who have seen and know the benefits of exploring the world in bright and bold colors have a responsibility to open a new door for these children. And last night, that's exactly what I attempted to do.
It was about five o'clock in the evening when I found myself trekking foot over foot up the hill to the hostel dining hall. Everything was quiet. All the teachers, administrators, and volunteer had caught the public bus or walked home. There was not even a sound coming from the dining hall. I peered through a front-facing window and saw about 150 children sitting on the floor, quietly, folding the t-shirts of their school uniforms which had recently been washed and pressed by the hostel house mothers. They were all staring intently at their light blue collared shirts, comparing theirs to the child's next to them to see who's was cleaner, or had better lines. There was a lot of pride in the room at that particular moment.
I caught the attention of a few of the house mothers and watched as they walked toward me. I told them of my hope to take 15 of the children out for a photography project and their faces lit up. It's not too often that the students who live in the hostel for the year get this kind of attention from a foreigner, so my request was definitely welcomed. The house mothers lined up 15 of the children and sent them out to me. They were all looking at me, smiling. I introduced myself (never in ANY place I have ever been - including the States - has my name been such an easy one to learn. Here, in Ladakh, the word for "hello," "goodbye," "thank you," "god bless," is "Jullay." Yep. At an "N" to the end of that, and there you have it = Julayne). Every time I introduce myself I am greeted with smiles simply because of the familiarity of the sound of my name in their language. It's wonderful.
I walked the children to room 5B, as it was the only one that was left unlocked. We sat in the back of the room on the floor, in a circle. I introduced myself again and had each of them introduce themselves (in addition, I had them write their names on a notepad, so that I would remember and pronounce their names correctly). I began by handing out small pieces of paper. I explained to the students that this project was called, "If I Could Do Anything, I Would...," and showed them some examples of work made under the same project name by kids in the States. They listened well, and when the time came for them to finish the sentence (If I could do anything, I would...), most of them had an idea of what they would write.
We walked outside, papers and props in hand, and began with the first student's name on my list. All the kids banded together to help each individual figure out a way to get across the words on their piece of paper visually. There was a lot of laughter, a little frustration, and tons of community. Many of the girls wanted to fly. A few of the boys wanted to be Batman or Superman. But the desires that most touched my heart were the children that simply said, "I would ride a bicycle," or "I would draw a picture." It was in the simplicity of it. They could have chosen anything; to do..., to be, ...anything, and yet, many of them wanted to do or be things that children in the western world would never even think of as a privilege. It was beautiful in that way.
I can't wait for the next project with these students. I am learning so much. I can only hope that they are learning a fraction of what I am. "If I could do anything, I would.....do this."
