Looking back...

Photographer: Anole
Location: Nagaland, Date: 04 July, 2008
2 July 2008: FoE team lands in Dimapur. A team of 8 people with a baggage of 220 kgs. Rain was hammering down and the first thing that came to my mind was “what made us visit Nagaland is the weather". But we knew that our heart was in the right place and we were all on a journey full of ambition. And a journey once begun has no end.

It was a 2 hour drive to Kohima. One could see several species of ferns bushy on the roadside, filled with raindrops. Hundreds of invisible spiderwebs in the bushes lined in silver were now visible. Between rains a grub of white sun appeared and there would be a smile on all our faces. And suddenly an unending rain would break out.

We started the workshop in Viswema village, which is just an hours drive from Kohima. Here we trained women from the Angami tribe. I must admit that women from the hills are really fashionable. It was really nice to see the participants in their traditional outfits on the second day.

From day two onwards participants were in full swing. It just took them a day to get used to the digital camera. It was pouring, but none of us gave up.

Rainy season beetles flew by in many colours. Participants would run behind insects and butterflies to shoot the unmistakable silhouette bold against the wall. They would fight to get a picture of it before it vanished into the crack between the bottom of the wall and the floor.

Ramesh, assisting one of the participants

And last but not the least, Mr Shaw's team rocked. No amount of downpour stopped them. They would run behind the participants and hold umbrellas for them, cover cameras with shower caps and do everything possible to make their students experts in photography. And right behind them one would find the video team running, trying to capture every possible thing on the video camera.

Author: Charitha Reddy

From Nagaland, with love...

Known to be fairly pragmatic, I’ve never been accused of having my head in the clouds. Until I visited Nagaland. Enveloped in swirling clouds, I found myself at what seemed the top of the world looking down at quaint villages, bright green paddy fields and steep slopes cloaked in dense vegetation. This was the last location for the Freedom of Expression photography workshop.

Our participants were a group of Naga girls from different tribes with unusual (to us!) names like Sevi, Elzole (pronounced Azhore!), Asa and Enole, among others. A bright, giggly lot with exquisite complexions, they were lithe as mountain goats as they sped up and down the slippery slopes with their cameras while we struggled not to go sliding downhill unceremoniously.

In spite of torrential rain and the tortuous terrain, the cameras continued to click. The most commonplace sights took on a new dimension for these girls as they stopped passersby carrying firewood, women carrying rosy-cheeked babies on their backs, school children returning home (soaked to the skin) and even half a dozen ducks vainly trying to cross the road. The girls made all of them (except the ducks) pose for their cameras. The ducks still haven’t recovered from the trauma of being chased downhill, wings flapping wildly!

Sevi and Elzole (from the village of Viswema (pronounced Visema) welcomed us into their homes and recruited their family members to pose for photographs. Every home in Kohima, big and small, is surrounded by a profusion of flowers. For us urban animals, used to the sight of elaborate (and usually ugly) bouquets designed by florists, the riot of colours created by geraniums, begonias, sweet peas, exotic orchids, you name it, was an overwhelming sight just begging to be captured visually.

After Sevi played the perfect hostess, making tea for all of us, she let us loose into her familys’ bakery to capture the trays of bread being baked and the oven being emptied out. Having sated our creative urge, she then went up onto the terrace and simply reached out to pluck a whole lot of juicy plums off the tree in their garden for us to take back.

The girls from Viswema also went out of their way to give us a glimpse of their culture by dressing in traditional costumes and singing some lilting folk songs. By the end of the trip we realized that all Naga’s sing beautifully (well, the majority do).

After three days of dreary clouds and constant showers, the fourth day dawned bright and sunny. Then, one of the most awesome locations we covered was Khonoma village, which has been declared a ‘Green’ village. It is said to be the cleanest village in Nagaland. It also involved climbing (at the risk of precipitating a cardiac arrest) what felt like at least a hundred steps (I’m convinced it was more!), but when we finally reached the top, the breathtaking view made it all worthwhile. The slopes below us seemed to be covered with a series of green cascading rooftops. Beyond lay the bright green paddy fields and then the slopes opposite rose up again covered in vegetation so thick that it looked like giant broccoli.

We were fortunate to be guided by Mago who was home for the holidays from college in Nainital. Having lived there all his life, he had no qualms about marching us into people’s homes to shoot them weaving baskets, weaving shawls on hand looms, making rice beer (oh, the odour) and even took us to his house where he demonstrated spear-making. Our participants went into a frenzy, trying to shoot everything, every which way. There was often a tug-of-war to get possession of a still camera. Our video team tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but it wasn’t easy while lugging a video camera, Dutch head and tripod with a combined weight of 38 kgs!

Another interesting location was Tophema village. The village was surrounded by trees laden with passion fruit, peaches, and oranges, to name a few. And had a museum and a model village that provided insights into the Naga lifestyle. It also had what looked like a long narrow boat with carved wooden (very heavy) instruments which were used to thump and bang a compelling rhythm on the surface of the boat. One could only hazard a guess as to the decibel levels created as the beat reverberated in the valley.

Finally, we got to cover the pineapple plantations. Rows of spiky lives stretched in front of us, some topped with the lovely red flowers and some with fully formed pineapples rearing their heads proudly. Once again our participants became over excited and slid up and down the slippery slopes (yes, the skies were opening up again) clicking away frantically.

The workshop culminated with all the girls getting together to sing a variety of songs, ranging from the state anthem to folk and gospel. Once again, we were convinced that all Nagas are good singers. And we all parted company, tired but satisfied with the results of the workshop. And the creation of another group of prospective photographers.

Last but not the least, one must mention the role played by Charitha Reddy. She ran from pillar to post to ensure things ran smoothly all through the course of the project . She nagged endlessly to ensure people adhered to schedules (very difficult in that region). She haggled ceaselessly to consolidate rates. She even danced the occasional jig (if one can call it that) to motivate the participants.

Thank you, Charitha, you did us proud.

Notes from the filmmaker...

Misty mountains, winding ghat roads, lush coffee plantations and slender silver oak whispering in the breeze welcomed us to Araku Valley. The sheer breathtaking beauty almost made us forget why we were here - to document on video a photography workshop for a dozen tribal men and women from the Araku region. To provide them with the opportunity to handle a digital camera for the first time in their lives. To enable them to capture the magic and mystique of their environment. To enable us to see their world through their eyes. A mutually beneficial exercise.

The venue for the workshop was a charming convent where the Nirmala sisters also allowed us to house the participants. The serenity of the convent provided the ideal environment for learning and facilitated a flow of creativity. Surrounded by lush orchards and colorful flower beds, our workshop participants blossomed.

As with our other locations, here too we had a tough time keeping up with a group of enthusiastic photographers-to-be. There was cute little Dombai who walked barefoot blithely along the railway tracks because her sandal strap had snapped, without batting an eyelid; and Somesh with his Naandi hat tilted rakishly on his head, looking for all the world like a miniature version of Clint Eastwood; and Rambabu in flowing saffron flapping out the side of a jeep. And all the others, specially the women in such vibrant colors that they looked like birds of paradise, as they looked at their own lives with new eyes.

For us, it was a revelation. So many pairs of untutored eyes captured their environment in such innovative ways. We hounded them with our video camera, trying to capture what they captured. But moving images do not freeze just that one moment in time as a still camera does. So we shall have to use freeze frames to match exactly that effect!

Our first outdoor location was the charming tribal village of Gondivalsa – Dombai’s home. The little red-tiled huts nestled on a slope surrounded by coffee plantations. Our workshop participants sped up and down the slopes frantically clicking away with wonder at all the sights that they’ve taken for granted all their lives. Nothing was spared. From the little kindergarten school to the vegetable patches; from the quaint little dwellings to the cattle coming home from pasture; from religious rituals to banish the evil eye to paddy being planted; from the tilling of land to the exhilarating Dhimsa dance in which most of the villagers participated. Most of this was achieved under gloomy overcast skies, or by dodging raindrops, often under the nearest thatched or tiled roof – on one occasion I even found myself sharing my shelter with a stray dog, a piglet and a fat brown hen and her seven chicks.

The shoot at the village could only be upstaged by the train ride from Tyada to Araku. Our budding photographers were totally overwhelmed by the experience. As the bright blue train sped up the slope, chugging through innumerable tunnels (there are 32 tunnels en route!) they shot up hill and down dale; they shot the other passengers, vendors, each other, the dark tunnels and even a traumatized chicken hiding under a seat! It was an exhilarating experience for them, and a stressful one for us as we tried to squeeze in our camera and tripod into the crowded compartment, tried to prevent all and sundry from crossing our frame at random and keep our balance to get some steady shots. But the breathtaking view and unique experience made up for it all.

Our participants entered the fray again the next day at a nearby weekly wholesale bazaar (haat). They shot jackfruit from every conceivable angle, very ripe jackfruit which our otherwise tolerant videographer Srinivas abhors, hence most of the video coverage was in long shots! Baskets of half ripe tomatoes suddenly assumed an intriguing quality as they were shot in tight close-ups; neatly packaged towering piles of leaves (to be made into disposable plates) were lined up to be captured digitally; the multiple hues of an array of vegetables; colorful trinkets; snacks and sweetmeats; and so much more. We even accompanied an enthusiastic group way up to the top of a mountain where they derived a great deal of pleasure from shooting a bunch of little kids perched high up on a jackfruit tree.

Dogged by persistent overcast skies and intermittent rain, we were never sure if we would maintain our schedules. Every dry hour was a bonus and the sun’s flirtatious glances from behind the clouds elicited cries of gratitude and random clicking of camera’s to make up for lost time! One such event was a shoot at a granite quarry, where the craggy, forbidding rock face often became one with the dark clouds.
Other locations included a waterfall way up on top of a mountain. Our participants scampered uphill like a herd of mountain goats, while we ‘city slickers’ huffed and puffed our way up. On the way down, we were caught in a thunder shower and reached our next destination – the Borra Caves – looking like a bunch of drowned rats. But the awesome caves made us forget our discomfort and we were all dry by the time we left (reluctantly).

Another visit to a weekly bazaar (different one) was even more exciting…it was bigger, louder and smellier – courtesy the innumerable stalls selling different varities of dried fish. Fortunately, photography is a purely visual medium. The images remain, the odour doesn’t.

Last but not least, mention must be made of Naandi’s Program Officer, Prakash, who co-ordinated our activities, cajoled all the right people and charmed his way through all the obstacles we faced. An entertainer to the core, he neither offers nor accepts the word ‘No’ – always with a smile on his face. Nothing is impossible as far as he’s concerned. Thank you, Prakash, you made it so easy for us.

Having blazed a trail through Araku, FoE now moves on to Nagaland. The journey continues…

We did it!

The prayer worked. No rains:)

The station master at Tyada too did his generous bit. He refused to give the train it's go signal till he saw that the tripods, camerabags and all of us boarded the train. He even waved us on from the bright blue station office.

Once in, our participants created a riot of excitement. At first the passengers looked at them in the FoE stetsonish hats with more than a little curiosity. Then, Dombai, a participant (a young girl from the Gond tribe) decided that she'd like to use my camera - a nikon D 40 and proceeded to hang it round her neck and rushed up a little girl who was looking shell shocked on her dad's lap because the train was thundering into a tunnel.

And like a true photographer - not only did she get a fab close up, she also proceeded to show the wary dad the picture on the display monitor - that broke the ice and like a forest fire his 1000 watt smile spread to the rest of the compartment and all our participants were inundated with requests of 'take my picture, take a family pic'. They were getting a hang of what it means to be on the other side.

There is a lot photo training is teaching us, the need to build brides, to talk, to engage with the people. It makes tasks so much easier, pleasanter, and sometimes gives us insights that we would otherwise never have had. An example - there was this old woman sitting in the corner. She watched us intently for some time and returned our smiles and then shyly indicated we look under her seat. The hen roosting there definitely made a picture for Pratap, and probably his day.

Elsewhere in the compartment there was the inevitable hanging out of the door and taking pictures of the train, its wheels, its passengers from all kinds of angles. The participants were making good on Rajendra Shaw's advice - "don't feel you have to stand only at a distance to take pictures - get bold, get closer to the subject'. They did. And horrified us no end :)

F.O.E halts at Araku

It's drizzling in Araku - seeing it come down across the hills - is what hundreds of tourists are paying good money for. But for the Freedom of Expression team, it's time to get into a hurry and quickly discuss a PLAN B.

PLAN A was to drive down the hilly Ghat roads to a tiny railway station called Tyada, get everyone into the train - the famous Kirandole passenger, which starts from Visakhapatnam and goes right up to Jagdalpur village in Chhattisgarh - and leave the team free to take pictures of the train looping picturesque hills or even capture 'a must experience' hustled inside the train compartment.

There are several who'll heave a sigh of logistical relief if we are rained out. Afterall, what are the odds of getting 24 people (13 participants, 7 trainers, 4 filmmakers) into a general compartment of a train that stops for 30 seconds, picks up about 1,000 passengers - vendors, bags, baskets, jackfruits and hens - and then ensuring they get enough goodwill, smiles and elbow space to get on with their photographs?

Will the raingods and the kind people of Araku smile for us? We are putting our prayers into a wooden prayer scaffold. We were introduced to one on our way to the village of Gondivalsa. It's what the members of the Gond tribe believe to get rid of bad luck.

If the rain holds, we'll carry it into Nagaland, our next F.O.E destination, where we hear, it's raining as if the dams have burst.

Until then stay tuned.

Photo feeds...

Morning: Yawn. Brush. Sweep. Wash - utensils, self, clothes. Tea. Cook. Eat.
Afternoon: Fill water. Walk. Fields. Tractor. Buffaloes. Seeds. Fertilizers. Manure. Plants. Crops.
Evening: Walk. Home. Sweep. Wash - self, utensils, clothes. Tea. Cook. Make bed.

Such was the routine for the 45-year-old Surinder Kaur, resident of Khot Bhai village, Gidderbaha Tehsil. Home. Children. Work...were the only elements for Kaur, who got married at a ripe age of 17 but unfortunately became a widow at 25. Racing against time and hope, it was a challenge to raise her children all by herself. Though they all are married and settled now, life is still very much the same for Surinder. Home. Fields. Work.



But, it was the Freedom of Expression project that brought back her yesteryears of fun and frolic. "Often, I felt I was getting old. I forgot how one can be cheerful. But its when I held the camera, i felt as though i was a 20-something bloke with full of life. F.O.E. redefined how one can be happy despite all the pressures and challenges one has to face. I will carry forward this spirit for the rest of my life."

Guiding light...

Photographer: Sukhdeep Singh
Location: Kot Bhai village, Gidderbaha Tehsil
Date: 11 June 2008

Bhangra, lassi, rotis, rasgoollas, men with colourful turbans, women in resplendent patialas...all conjure up images of Punjab. But what's also ubiquituous in this northern state is the tractor driven by men. Sukhdeep captured this defining picture that speaks volumes about the life and culture in villages.