Monday, December 14, 2009
Wednesday, December 9
As soon as the sky lightens I'm up and keen to shoot. I pull the tarp back to have a look and the light is extraordinary, but it's raining and I'm not set up for water, so I try to pull the tarps back to shoot from my fale. Finding something to tie them up with is futile - but my new friend, Julie from Australia comes to my rescue. She's got some wire, but cuts her finger on exposed end. I manage to shoot and get my first aid kit out for her at the same time. Who says men can't multitask?
Next up is an interview with Tapu, Va'a's father. He's keen to tell his story. Faofao's rebuilding was largely possible by generous financial donations from former visitors. This place affects people. I think It's hard to visit Samoa and not be influenced.
At breakfast, in the makeshift Faofao family camp I learn that there's going to be a graduation ceremony at the church up the road. I quickly pack up and head over with Julie and Robert, an Argentinian volunteer. The large church is packed. People stand outside and peer through the glass louvers. Some volunteers from a large international NGO show up in team shirts, with large stills cameras and start shooting. I approach them because their group is one that I had offered my services to. Turns out that they are staying in the building adjacent to the church, in this compound. I ask for the national leader by name and they say they don't know if he's coming today. I'm not feeling the love. The say they're at this event because it's an opportunity to get in to the local church...as if they weren't welcome at other times. I find this a bit weird. I wonder to myself how they can live in such proximity and not feel WELCOME in the church next door. I hand them my card but they pretty much blow me off. I stay for awhile then head back to meet with Seti and his father.
The swim is challenging. It's my first time in salt water with the camera, but thanks to the test at Aggies early on I feel confident about the water proof-ness. Language is a major obstacle again. I get frustrated because conveying simple concepts such as, "OK - you guys just do your thing and I'll shoot you playing in the water" are lost between the sound of the surf, the translation and general confusion. My requests are either ignored, or followed to the letter. There's no possibility of conveying concepts - only direct requests that result in stilted feeling behaviour. They are way too close to the shore. I'm getting bounced around in the surf like a beach ball. I try to tell them to come out a bit further. It's so shallow that I have to swim sideways. I have to kick my fins real hard to avoid getting washed up on the shore. I'm in about 18-24" of water...but they keep getting closer to the shore. My luck runs out and I bottom out on a rock. My knee takes the worst of it.
Cuts in the tropics can be nasty at the best of times. I had heard that the water is dangerous now because lots of toxins have been released after the tsunami, so I'm pissed off now. I want to wrap this shoot but keep going because it's a long way from home and I don't want to stop for something as minor as a scrape. But I'm not happy. I keep going with similar results for another 203- minutes and make the call. It's not getting any better. Time to cut my losses. I feel that it's very likely that I've got nothing to show for this. I'm demoralized and it's time to clean my cut. On my first trip in 2000 I got cut on the coral and it got infected. This time I came prepared with plenty of polysporin and bandages and tape. I had a feeling that something like this might happen.
Next up is an interview with Tapu, Va'a's father. He's keen to tell his story. Faofao's rebuilding was largely possible by generous financial donations from former visitors. This place affects people. I think It's hard to visit Samoa and not be influenced.
At breakfast, in the makeshift Faofao family camp I learn that there's going to be a graduation ceremony at the church up the road. I quickly pack up and head over with Julie and Robert, an Argentinian volunteer. The large church is packed. People stand outside and peer through the glass louvers. Some volunteers from a large international NGO show up in team shirts, with large stills cameras and start shooting. I approach them because their group is one that I had offered my services to. Turns out that they are staying in the building adjacent to the church, in this compound. I ask for the national leader by name and they say they don't know if he's coming today. I'm not feeling the love. The say they're at this event because it's an opportunity to get in to the local church...as if they weren't welcome at other times. I find this a bit weird. I wonder to myself how they can live in such proximity and not feel WELCOME in the church next door. I hand them my card but they pretty much blow me off. I stay for awhile then head back to meet with Seti and his father.
The swim is challenging. It's my first time in salt water with the camera, but thanks to the test at Aggies early on I feel confident about the water proof-ness. Language is a major obstacle again. I get frustrated because conveying simple concepts such as, "OK - you guys just do your thing and I'll shoot you playing in the water" are lost between the sound of the surf, the translation and general confusion. My requests are either ignored, or followed to the letter. There's no possibility of conveying concepts - only direct requests that result in stilted feeling behaviour. They are way too close to the shore. I'm getting bounced around in the surf like a beach ball. I try to tell them to come out a bit further. It's so shallow that I have to swim sideways. I have to kick my fins real hard to avoid getting washed up on the shore. I'm in about 18-24" of water...but they keep getting closer to the shore. My luck runs out and I bottom out on a rock. My knee takes the worst of it.
Cuts in the tropics can be nasty at the best of times. I had heard that the water is dangerous now because lots of toxins have been released after the tsunami, so I'm pissed off now. I want to wrap this shoot but keep going because it's a long way from home and I don't want to stop for something as minor as a scrape. But I'm not happy. I keep going with similar results for another 203- minutes and make the call. It's not getting any better. Time to cut my losses. I feel that it's very likely that I've got nothing to show for this. I'm demoralized and it's time to clean my cut. On my first trip in 2000 I got cut on the coral and it got infected. This time I came prepared with plenty of polysporin and bandages and tape. I had a feeling that something like this might happen.
Tuesday, December 8
Tuesday.
Wrap things up at the SUNGO office - Vasilli bails on me - other urgent business. I'm a big boy - I can handle myself.
Drive over to Saleopaga solo. Air conditioned car is a welcome break.
Faofao is one of very few places rebuilding. I connect with Va'a - he shows me the way to the new village. I present the family matai with the introduction letter Vasilli has prepared for me.
The drive up - establish the new village...and why. Mud - rotten road.
Establish my intentions with the family matai. He agrees to let us film, although he seems to have no prior knowledge of our visit. I bring the food gifts up to the fale. They are very pleased.
First interview with the matai. His wife (buried behind me - where Seti is playing) died in the tsunami. He tells the story.
I'm treated to lobster and fish lunch. The soup is excellent fish broth mixed with coconut. I try to ignore the squalor and hope to the good lord that I don't get sick. I tactfully plop a lobster morsel from the fale floor back onto my plate - the 30 second rule definitely does not apply here.
Va'a patiently waits for me. I attempt to shoot with Seti, but it feels totally unworkable. The boy is totally confused. Everyone in his family is telling him what to say and do. They're trying to please me, but language is a real barrier for the first time in all my trips to Samoa. I try to get Seti to show me around where he lives, but an uncle takes him by the hand and feeds him the things to say, line by line. I try to explain that I just want to spend some time with the boy, but the more I talk the worse things get. I finally give up and find Va'a and ask him to show me the new village. We drive a few minutes down the road and the rain starts pouring down. It's heavy enough to warrant my underwater splash bag.
Visiting Va'a's aunt in the hills overlooking the village. It's the family plantation - adapted to the new purpose. Everyone goes barefoot because anything else would be futile. I'm offered genuine hospitality. I gladly accept perhaps the sweetest coffee I've ever had. Sweat pours off me from the first sip but the caffeine hit is worth it.
We head back to Seti's home - I figure that it's better to get the second time over with now - maybe things will improve after more exposure to the camera. Unfortunately, it's worse. As soon as it feels like progress is near another complicating factor arises. Other kids and adults are a major challenge. Everybody either encourages Seti to wave at the camera or does it themselves. The kids simply stare into the camera and then wait for me to leave. Seti and a buddy are filling water pistols from a couple of water barrels. I seize my moment and drop my camera in the barrel (it's still in the splash bag). The kids are a bit freaked out, but this gains their curiosity. One for the home team. I pull the camera out of the water and encourage them to splash water at it. I hope this doesn't come back to haunt me some later date when I don't have the camera in the splash bag....I take a bunch of shots on this theme and call it a day with Seti. Best to leave things on a high note.
Va'a and I head down to Faofao. I explain on the way that I'm sorry for not bringing much in the way for his family - I had not understood the full circumstances (think mud) of his family. I'm also more than a little ashamed - I should have thought to bring presents for my hosts, regardless. I should have split the generosity between the two households - I will make it up to Va'a's family.
What I really need to do is offload the footage - it seems that the file transfers are taking longer and longer to do. I think the humidity might be a factor. It's taking multiple tries to even get the camera and the computer to talk. Sometimes it refuses to connect, others it partially copies before stalling. My evenings are always an adventure of this sort, so the earlier I start the better. I arrange a table from Va'a - but there's only one, so he promises to arrange to have it brought over after it's used for eating on by everyone. I wonder out loud what time dinner is...the answer is "sometime around 7:30". I make the mistake of going with this, rather than looking for an alternative work station. 9:10 rolls around and I'm finally setting up where I should have in the first place...on a shelf behind the bar of the new restaurant. By the time I'm set up, one of the workers pulls up his sleeping mat beside me and tucks in for the night. He tells me not to make noise. I cautiously complete the footage transfer, but I'm too tired to watch anything more than a spot check. This has been a perpetual drag for me. Shooting without reviewing what's already in the can is an act of faith.
At the best of times it takes a couple of nights to get used to sleeping in a fale on the beach. Sometimes they are draped with leaf blinds - these days most of them are closed up with large blue tarps. Mine had tarps, which are good for keeping the teeming rain out, but not so good for ventilation or noise in the perpetual wind. It's a restless night. Being on the site of the tsunami doesn't help. I don't mind the natural part of the disaster, but family members of the people I'm mingling with died here. Va'a's family were all spared - but you don't have to go far too find people who've suffered loss.
Wrap things up at the SUNGO office - Vasilli bails on me - other urgent business. I'm a big boy - I can handle myself.
Drive over to Saleopaga solo. Air conditioned car is a welcome break.
Faofao is one of very few places rebuilding. I connect with Va'a - he shows me the way to the new village. I present the family matai with the introduction letter Vasilli has prepared for me.
The drive up - establish the new village...and why. Mud - rotten road.
Establish my intentions with the family matai. He agrees to let us film, although he seems to have no prior knowledge of our visit. I bring the food gifts up to the fale. They are very pleased.
First interview with the matai. His wife (buried behind me - where Seti is playing) died in the tsunami. He tells the story.
I'm treated to lobster and fish lunch. The soup is excellent fish broth mixed with coconut. I try to ignore the squalor and hope to the good lord that I don't get sick. I tactfully plop a lobster morsel from the fale floor back onto my plate - the 30 second rule definitely does not apply here.
Va'a patiently waits for me. I attempt to shoot with Seti, but it feels totally unworkable. The boy is totally confused. Everyone in his family is telling him what to say and do. They're trying to please me, but language is a real barrier for the first time in all my trips to Samoa. I try to get Seti to show me around where he lives, but an uncle takes him by the hand and feeds him the things to say, line by line. I try to explain that I just want to spend some time with the boy, but the more I talk the worse things get. I finally give up and find Va'a and ask him to show me the new village. We drive a few minutes down the road and the rain starts pouring down. It's heavy enough to warrant my underwater splash bag.
Visiting Va'a's aunt in the hills overlooking the village. It's the family plantation - adapted to the new purpose. Everyone goes barefoot because anything else would be futile. I'm offered genuine hospitality. I gladly accept perhaps the sweetest coffee I've ever had. Sweat pours off me from the first sip but the caffeine hit is worth it.
We head back to Seti's home - I figure that it's better to get the second time over with now - maybe things will improve after more exposure to the camera. Unfortunately, it's worse. As soon as it feels like progress is near another complicating factor arises. Other kids and adults are a major challenge. Everybody either encourages Seti to wave at the camera or does it themselves. The kids simply stare into the camera and then wait for me to leave. Seti and a buddy are filling water pistols from a couple of water barrels. I seize my moment and drop my camera in the barrel (it's still in the splash bag). The kids are a bit freaked out, but this gains their curiosity. One for the home team. I pull the camera out of the water and encourage them to splash water at it. I hope this doesn't come back to haunt me some later date when I don't have the camera in the splash bag....I take a bunch of shots on this theme and call it a day with Seti. Best to leave things on a high note.
Va'a and I head down to Faofao. I explain on the way that I'm sorry for not bringing much in the way for his family - I had not understood the full circumstances (think mud) of his family. I'm also more than a little ashamed - I should have thought to bring presents for my hosts, regardless. I should have split the generosity between the two households - I will make it up to Va'a's family.
What I really need to do is offload the footage - it seems that the file transfers are taking longer and longer to do. I think the humidity might be a factor. It's taking multiple tries to even get the camera and the computer to talk. Sometimes it refuses to connect, others it partially copies before stalling. My evenings are always an adventure of this sort, so the earlier I start the better. I arrange a table from Va'a - but there's only one, so he promises to arrange to have it brought over after it's used for eating on by everyone. I wonder out loud what time dinner is...the answer is "sometime around 7:30". I make the mistake of going with this, rather than looking for an alternative work station. 9:10 rolls around and I'm finally setting up where I should have in the first place...on a shelf behind the bar of the new restaurant. By the time I'm set up, one of the workers pulls up his sleeping mat beside me and tucks in for the night. He tells me not to make noise. I cautiously complete the footage transfer, but I'm too tired to watch anything more than a spot check. This has been a perpetual drag for me. Shooting without reviewing what's already in the can is an act of faith.
At the best of times it takes a couple of nights to get used to sleeping in a fale on the beach. Sometimes they are draped with leaf blinds - these days most of them are closed up with large blue tarps. Mine had tarps, which are good for keeping the teeming rain out, but not so good for ventilation or noise in the perpetual wind. It's a restless night. Being on the site of the tsunami doesn't help. I don't mind the natural part of the disaster, but family members of the people I'm mingling with died here. Va'a's family were all spared - but you don't have to go far too find people who've suffered loss.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Waiting For Word
Almost three months after the tsunami which killed approximately 170 people on Samoa and neighbouring Pacific islands, Filmmaker James Buffin remains on the island capturing the stories, the tributes, the resilience and the heartache. Updates in this blog have been erratic, not because of any lack of interest or focus, but simply due to lack of communication ability.
One man, one camera and one island of souls...
The rainy season, the recovery work and the heartbreak have all been obstacles for James along with the lack of amenities, but I encourage you to read through the past updates in the order we have received them; a story of determination, of vision, of love. Few men have the eyes that James Buffin uses to view the world as he captures life with his camera lens, and I know that his journey will touch your heart, open your eyes, and perhaps cause you to be involved in a way you never dreamed.
We will post another update as soon as we can. From our office here in the states, we have monitored earthquake activity, severe weather and national news as it impacts James and his trip. James is expected home to Toronto within a few days and should we not receive an update until his return, will post, in dateline order, the remainder of his trip for you as soon as possible.
You can email James at veritus@chasing4life.org or visit his website at www.vpics.ca
~E.W., Blog Administrator
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Last Update
Today I head to affected areas for the next several days. The connections are all in place. Will be staying on the beach at Saleapaga, then moving over to Manono island for a couple of days. Both places are where the worst looking photos from earlier were taken. The time taken before to meet the people in these places has paid off and I am now accepting invitations to stay with families in those places. My amazing friend at the Tourist Authority, Nynette, has arranged everything for me for this trip. What comes around goes around - in spades.
Got up before 5 - very excited for this trip.
Forgive the shorthand in the rest of this message. I'm under the gun to get packed, but I really wanted to share the amazing things that have happend recently, before heading out of reach of the internet. I will update the blog again on Sunday or Monday the 14th.
Got up before 5 - very excited for this trip.
Forgive the shorthand in the rest of this message. I'm under the gun to get packed, but I really wanted to share the amazing things that have happend recently, before heading out of reach of the internet. I will update the blog again on Sunday or Monday the 14th.
December 7
Early start at SUNGO - busting to get notes straight with them to ensure that things will go as smoothly as possible when I return to Canada. It's now obvious that I need to focus on shooting for the rest of the trip. I had previously entertained the possibility that the edit for SUNGO would be complete before departing Samoa. Not happening. I'm still shooting relevant material - and will be up to the last minute.
One of the highlights from previous trips was the firedancing. I've connected with the people I knew from those times. They graciously arrange an impromptu performance for me to shoot. It was on their 1/4 acre property, on the foundation of the old family home that burned down a few years ago. The backdrop is nature. Much better than shooting at a hotel. It's a wonderful evening. I reconnect with two of the boys I knew before and make a great friend of their uncle who is the teacher. I've been waiting for this opportunity since 2003. I shoot it all in slow motion, then play it back for them. Everyone is very pleased.
One of the highlights from previous trips was the firedancing. I've connected with the people I knew from those times. They graciously arrange an impromptu performance for me to shoot. It was on their 1/4 acre property, on the foundation of the old family home that burned down a few years ago. The backdrop is nature. Much better than shooting at a hotel. It's a wonderful evening. I reconnect with two of the boys I knew before and make a great friend of their uncle who is the teacher. I've been waiting for this opportunity since 2003. I shoot it all in slow motion, then play it back for them. Everyone is very pleased.
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