Thursday’s Picture of the Week: Morocco

Photo of a Moroccan woman wearing a hijab

©Jeffrey Aaronson

Behind the scenes: It’s 1999 and Jeffrey is photographing on assignment in Morocco for Travel Holiday. The story he is working on highlights the important role women play in this North African country, even though many are not allowed to work.

As Jeffrey strolls around the lively Jemaa el Fna Marketplace in Marrakesh’s old medina quarter, he breathes in the savory aromas of late afternoon. Along the way he photographs an array of vendors selling fruit, spices and kabobs as well as several flamboyant water sellers, fire eaters and snake charmers.

In the midst of this bustling scene, he notices a woman wearing a blue hijab. Her striking almond-shaped eyes dance beneath her blue head covering as she paints intricate henna designs onto a woman’s hands.

Jeffrey is intrigued, so through his interpreter, he asks the woman if she would mind if he made a portrait of her. Her eyes instantly light up, unmistakably flattered. Looking around though, she quickly replies in an overly loud voice, “No, I’m sorry, I cannot without my husband’s permission.”

Map of MoroccoEvery nearby vendor is now watching. She glances down at the ground and shakes her head, then looks at Jeffrey with a feisty twinkle in her eye before she repeats: “No, I’m sorry, my husband would need to give you permission.”

Jeffrey can tell she is up to something, and would clearly like to have her picture taken, so he says louder than usual, “Yes, of course, no problem. I understand. But do you think it would be okay if I just photographed your hand to show your beautiful henna artwork?”

“Oh yes, of course…of course.” she replies, her eyes indicating her happiness that they have figured out a way to make this work. “That would be no problem,” she says again, if it is just showing off my artwork.”

“Great,” Jeffrey says as he brings his camera up to his eye.

Then he lowers his camera back down. “But do you think you could bring your hand up to your chin so that your artwork shows up better in the picture?” he asks, grinning.

She knows exactly what Jeffrey is doing and quickly raises her hand near her face, Jeffrey shoots a few frames, then the artist quickly goes back to painting another woman’s hand, while all other vendors go back to their own business.

Jeffrey is sure that he has just created a stunning portrait—one that symbolizes the beauty and strength of Moroccan women. He also senses that this woman, by navigating around the suffocating constraints of her culture, feels a tiny bit more empowered by her conspiracy in this photographic moment.

To see a few more of Jeffrey’s images from Morocco, click on the fire eater below:

Photo of a fire eater in Marrekesh, Morocco

©2011 Becky Green Aaronson The Art of an Improbable Life

My Crash Course in Living Through the Lens

JUNE 1989: Jeffrey and I have been together for less than six months. During this time I’ve been given an unexpected crash course in the frenetic lifestyle of a photojournalist, learning quickly what it’s like to live through the lens.

Time Magazine with photo of Aung San Suu KyiYou may remember that 1989 is the year seismic political events begin shaking governments and cultures all around the world.

In April Jeffrey navigates Rangoon’s tension-filled streets during martial law, and photographs Burma’s Nobel Peace Prize-winning democracy leader, Aung San Suu Kyi, when she’s first placed under house arrest. This project is a good indicator of what is to come in this life that Jeffrey and I are now happily sharing (if you missed this story, you can read the details in my two earlier posts):

9/27/11 Beyond Rangoon–Part One

10/4/11 Beyond Rangoon–Part Two

Soon after Burma, in May and early June, Jeffrey spends multiple weeks in Beijing documenting China’s Democracy Movement in Tiananmen Square, capturing the passion and energy of China’s youth and its demands for change.

Photo of Democracy Movement

Photo of the Democracy Movement in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China, 1989

Photo of the Democracy Movement in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

It’s an exhilarating and surreal time for me as I watch the evening news every night to see what is unfolding in Tiananmen Square, knowing Jeffrey is there at the front line of history.

I see hunger strikers and workers marching with outrageously bold placards, then witness the “Goddess of Democracy” being erected as a symbol of hope and freedom for the movement. With each new development, threats escalate from the Chinese government. Soon fiery warnings are blasted about the severe consequences protesters will face if they do not end the demonstration and leave the square.

Jeffrey is in a simmering pot of politics, power and impatience, and my jaw grows tighter each day knowing that it’s getting closer to bubbling over–especially in a country in which freedom has never been a priority and brutality has often been a solution. At that moment, the Democracy Movement is no longer just a surreal event half way around the world for me; it is palpably real.

Photo of soldiers in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China 1989, Democracy Movement

It’s then I realize I need to focus on my “own thing” while Jeffrey is gone, otherwise my twenty-three year old dark brown hair will soon be turning white. While Jeffrey is in Tiananmen Square, I spend hours out on the road cycling, distracting myself with Aspen’s intoxicating landscape, centering my attention on simply turning the cranks of my pedals and getting enough oxygen into my lungs, rather than worrying about whether the Chinese government will follow through with its threats. I also immerse myself in work and all the other things I love like reading, painting and writing. I still stay glued to the TV and scour every newspaper, but I realize I have no control over Jeffrey’s safety so I trust in his scrappy ability to navigate through upheaval and create images, while staying out of harm’s way.

Photo of the Democracy Movement in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

Photo of the Democracy Movement in Tianamen Square

I also can’t help but feel empathy for Jeffrey’s parents. Right before Jeffrey leaves for Beijing, I overhear one of the most endearing phone conversations I can ever remember. “You can’t forbid me to go,” Jeffrey says to his dad as gently as he can, a sweet, appreciative smile crossing his face. “You’ll just have to trust that I’ll be okay. Really. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” he says as tries to ease the concerns he hears on the other end of the line.

His dad’s fear says everything about the love his parents hold for Jeffrey, and immediately makes me understand who Jeffrey is from the ground up.

That same trepidation also makes me think about all the other journalists in the world, and all the spouses, families and friends in the wings supporting what each is doing…and most likely worrying–particularly those going into war zones. I’m thankful Jeffrey has not chosen that path.

Photo of the Democracy Movement in Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

Tiananmen Square is bad enough.

After nearly six weeks of peaceful demonstrations, the worst happens: China’s Democracy Movement tragically ends in bloodshed. On June 4th, the Chinese government orders the People’s Liberation Army to quash the movement and end all challenges to its power. Thousands of unarmed people are murdered, mowed down by bullets and tanks, and many more are injured as the PLA clears the square.

Photo of Tiananmen Square crackdown, Beijing, China 1989

Thankfully, Jeffrey is not one of them.

In a later post I will share the story of how, in an unusual twist of circumstances, Jeffrey sidesteps the June 4th massacre. I’m a firm believer that most things in life happen for a reason. This is no exception.

 

Thursday’s Picture of the Week: A Day in the Life of Africa

Photo of the Grand Mosque in Djenne, Mali

Behind the Scenes: It’s February 28, 2002 and Jeffrey is working on A Day in the Life of Africa, a book project in which nearly 100 photographers from around the world are participating in a historic, one-day documentary of Africa.

Photographers are spread out across 50 nations, from Cairo to the Cape of Good Hope, all trying to capture what is unique about the people, geography, and customs of this continent.

Jeffrey has chosen the West African nation of Mali—specifically, Mali’s medieval city, Djénné. He is intrigued by its massive Grand Mosquée, which is not only the largest mud-brick building in the world, but also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Built in 1905, it was modeled on a mosque first erected on the site in the 11th century. Every year, after the rainy season, much of the population helps repair and resurface the mud walls.

Book cover photo of A Day in the Life of AfricaOn the day of the shoot, Jeffrey and his interpreter Musa (Moses), drive all the way from the capital of Bamako, about 250 miles away, then immediately seek out the Imam, the leader of the Djénné Islamic community. They know they’ll need his permission to enter the mosque.

The two venture down narrow dirt alleyways, passing modest mud-pressed houses, eventually ending on the steps of the Imam. When the leader welcomes them inside, Jeffrey can’t help but notice an exquisite Swiss-made grandfather clock as well as a large-screen television.

As is customary, the three men have tea, then Jeffrey finally asks the Imam (through Musa) if it’s possible to photograph inside the mosque. The Imam rubs his chin, then promptly says, “No, it is not possible.”

Jeffrey, who has flown half way around the world to photograph this landmark, tries to keep his cool. “Why?” he simply asks.

The Imam replies, “No non-believers are allowed inside the mosque.”

Then he begins a long, convoluted story about how an Italian fashion photographer had recently been allowed in, deceiving them with his project, and bringing shame to their community. “He asked my permission, which I granted,” the Imam fumes, “then he took a woman there and had her remove her proper clothing to be photographed in a swimming suit. That is against our beliefs. We can no longer allow non-Muslims or non-believers inside.”

Jeffrey can feel the weight of his response pressing on his optimism. Not to be dissuaded though, he continues his appeal. “I will only be going in with Musa, and I will abide by all your rules. My only objective is to show the world what a magnificent place of worship you have here in Djénné.”

The Imam does not budge in his response. Jeffrey continues, “All the money raised from this book will go toward AIDS awareness in Africa. I only want to do something that is good for your people.

The Imam listens to Jeffrey’s plea, then suddenly begins hinting at a bribe. “See this fine grandfather clock. A very important person donated this to me when he wanted to see the mosque. And see this television? That was another donation by another important person.”

Jeffrey is immediately disgusted. “I’m sorry, but my only donation will be making a photograph that will show the beauty and magnificence of your mosque. And that donation will contribute to the book, which will raise money for the African AIDS Education Fund–yet another donation. If that is not enough, then I will not be able to photograph inside.”

As Jeffrey and Musa leave, Jeffrey starts thinking of Plan B. He tells Musa, “We are going to walk around this entire mosque—all 360 degrees—until we find a place that will be even better than if I had photographed inside.”

It doesn’t take long because as they’re walking down a narrow alley, Jeffrey notices a man praying on top of a nearby house. Musa talks to the man and explains what Jeffrey would like to do. In no time, they are up on the roof creating the photograph you see above. It not only captures the grandeur of the mosque, also but gives a broader glimpse into the culture of Mali.

Jeffrey had several other photographs of Mali published in the book as well.

Photo of Jeffrey Aaronson at the Day in the Life of Africa opening in Grand Central Station

Jeffrey Aaronson in Grand Central Station during the opening for A Day in the Life of Africa. Here he's standing in front of another of his images published in the book.

You can see the tapestry of images from this project and a list of the participating photographers by clicking on the links below:

Washington Post slideshow of images from A Day in the Life of Africa.

Photographer profiles and the countries in which they photographed.

Photo of photographers Paul Chesley, Jeffrey Aaronson, Michael Lewis

Photographers Paul Chesley, Jeffrey Aaronson, Michael Lewis in Grand Central Station at the opening for A Day in the Life of Africa

Photo of photographers Jeffrey Aaronson, Larry Price and Michael Lewis at a book signing for A Day in the Life of Africa

Photographers Jeffrey Aaronson, Larry Price and Michael Lewis at a book signing for A Day in the Life of Africa

Photo of Jeffrey and Becky Aaronson at the Grand Central Station opening for A Day in the Life of Africa

Jeffrey and Becky Aaronson at the Grand Central Station opening for A Day in the Life of Africa

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A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to…

Photo of an airplane windowWhen somebody flies over a million miles like my husband, photographer, Jeffrey Aaronson, humorous things are bound to happen. Here’s a glimpse into a few things Jeffrey has experienced on airplanes over the years :

In 1989 Jeffrey was on his way to China from our home in Aspen, Colorado. On the small BA-146 jet, he bumped into his friends, tennis star, Chris Evert, and Olympic ski racer, Andy Mill. The three ended up sitting next to each other, chatting and laughing on the short thirty-minute flight to Denver, then parted ways once they landed.

Inside the Denver Airport, a Japanese man who had been on the earlier Aspen flight, scoped out Jeffrey from a distance and smiled and bowed to him. Jeffrey smiled back politely, then focused on a magazine article he was trying to read while he waited for his connecting flight. A short while later, the man walked past and did the same thing. Jeffrey glanced up and smiled back, but then began wondering what this guy was all about.

When it was time to board the flight to Beijing, once again, there was the Japanese man–this time walking down the aisle with his carry-on luggage, once again smiling and bowing as Jeffrey settled into his seat. Jeffrey smiled back courteously and even nodded, but was now starting to feel a little awkward.

It wasn’t until about an hour later that Jeffrey finally found out what this guy was all about. At 38,000 ft. as Jeffrey was sipping soda water and reading a newspaper, the Japanese man reappeared. After walking up and down the aisle two times, he finally built up his nerve to stop. Jeffrey looked up quizzically, then he heard, “Ah, Mr. McEnroe, may I have your autograph?”

Photo of John McEnroeJeffrey could barely repress his laughter, but was so tickled by this earnest gentleman, he couldn’t bring himself to tell him that he wasn’t the tennis legend he idolized. Instead, he just smiled and bowed, and scribbled John McEnroe onto a piece of paper.

That wasn’t the first time Jeffrey had been confused with curly-haired tennis great, John McEnroe, but this was the most amusing.

Looking back now Jeffrey chuckles, “You’d think he would have known I wasn’t John McEnroe when I wasn’t flying first class. He must have assumed that since I was talking with Chrissy Evert on the Aspen flight that I had to be McEnroe.”

Fortunately for the Japanese man Jeffrey never yelled, “You cannot be serious!” like John McEnroe often did on the tennis court.

_____

In the early 90’s Jeffrey was on another flight to China (yes, he went all the time). This time, well into the flight over the Pacific, he was sound asleep. Jeffrey often joked that he got some of his best sleep on airplanes. After snoozing for a couple hours and being in a deep sleep, he was woken by a flight attendant standing in front of him, smiling broadly, holding a glass of champagne.

In his groggy, disoriented state, he was trying to figure out why she would be doing that. Then the guy sitting next to him, whom he hadn’t ever told his name, said, “Jeffrey, I really like what you do.” Trying to get his bearings, he squinted at the flight attendant and the passenger next to him, then glanced across the aisle. Several people were looking at him and smiling.

“Is there something going on here I should know about?” Jeffrey asked.

“We just watched you on the inflight movie.”

“Huh?” Jeffrey muttered. “What are you talking about?” Jeffrey couldn’t decide whether he was still dreaming or if these people had lost their minds.

“While you were asleep, they showed you photographing…it was on the video monitor.” When Jeffrey finally heard, “It was called Colorado Picture Perfect and it was hosted by John Denver,” it suddenly made sense.

A few years earlier he had been part of a documentary television show on NBC which featured three Colorado photojournalists working out in the field capturing winter in Colorado. The program, Jeffrey discovered at that moment in his travel weary state, had been syndicated and was now being shown on United Airlines.

The curly-headed guy sitting in Row 7A suddenly became a welcomed distraction for all the nearby passengers. All Jeffrey wanted to do was go back to dreaming.

_____

Then there’s the funny stuff that’s only funny after you’ve landed safely. Like…

Flying with a drunk pilot in a single engine Cessna over the Bass Straight in Tasmania, Australia. The rosy-cheeked pilot looked more like an unmade bed than a professional pilot, and his flying skills matched his appearance. As the plane bumped along through marginal weather, he left little room for error as he flew way too close to the sea. I happened to be on this assignment with Jeffrey and years later, I can still remember the smell of the pilot’s whiskey and the death grip I had on Jeffrey’s hand, and how I practically kissed the ground when we finally landed. Thankfully we’re both still here to laugh about it.

Flying on Druk Air from Bhutan to Thailand and nearly crashing in Dhaka, Bangladesh while trying to land during a typhoon. The pilot pushed the engines as hard as he could to get through the storm, and then the wind suddenly whipped around the other direction and thrust the plane from behind during landing. It came in WAY too fast to land and the plane skidded sideways down the flooded runway, then finally came to a stop just inches from crashing off the end.

Having to make an emergency landing at a military base in Xinjiang, China because the China Airways plane Jeffrey was flying on ran out of fuel. Jeffrey was on assignment for TIME Magazine and had been trying to fly from Beijing to Turpan for days. Each day the flight was cancelled due to fog in Turpan, some five hours away. Finally the day arrived to fly, but when the plane tried to land, once again fog prevented it. The determined Chinese pilot decided to circle. And circle. And circle. The plane circled for nearly an hour, and then the pilot suddenly realized they had run out of fuel. It was straight out of a bad movie with passengers screaming and crying during the plummeting descent…you get the picture. This is only a tiny part of one of the most bizarre and difficult assignments Jeffrey had ever done for TIME Magazine, a story which will be chronicled later in my upcoming book.

Okay, so those last three stories aren’t exactly ha-ha funny, but more like “holy crap” funny. But since my darling Jeffrey is still with us to tell these stories, it’s okay to laugh…really.

Now it’s your turn. What is the funniest or most unusual thing that has happened to you while traveling? Drop me a comment and share the joys of flying!
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Thursday’s Picture of the Week: The Winning Caption Is…

“I have no idea what she’s saying, but I think I’m getting a car!!”

Congratulations to Caryl

You will be receiving a $20 Amazon gift card for your winning entry.

Photo of monks watching television

Behind the Scenes: It is the year 2000 and Jeffrey has been hired by Wired Magazine to photograph a feature story about Bhutan, the last country in the world to get television.

Map of BhutanBhutan, known by its people as Druk Yai (Land of the Thunder Dragon), is a small landlocked kingdom sandwiched high in the Eastern Himalayas between Tibet, China, and India. Primarily Buddhist, it has been named numerous times as one of the happiest places on earth. Its king proclaimed “Gross National Happiness is more important than Gross National Product.

Bhutan has held on tightly to its culture for centuries. It only allows about 7,500 tourists a year to enter, and within the country police are empowered to detain any Bhutanese not wearing official national dress, the robelike gho for men and the jacket and apronlike kira for women. The king is only allowing television to be introduced because he feels his country needs to keep up with the modern world.

After flying on Druk Air into Paro, Jeffrey travels to the capital of Thimpu. Here he’s lead to a small hamlet on the outskirts of town, where the Oko Thsering Family has just acquired a TV. They are the only ones in the entire area with this new contraption and they aren’t sure what to make of it yet. Jeffrey photographs the family, along with several of their friends as they watch it.

Much to Jeffrey’s dismay when the television is turned on, the first thing they see is World Wide Wrestling, followed by Felix the Cat cartoons, then finally Oprah, which you can see in the image above. He knows at that moment, Bhutan will never be the same.

If you want to know how television has affected Bhutan, take a look at this 2003 article in the Guardian called “Fast Forward into Trouble.” Perhaps you can tell by the title that introducing western values into this culture has not added to Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness.

To see more of Jeffrey’s photographs from Bhutan, click on the picture of the monk below:

Photo of a monk in Bhutan

ALSO, there were so many creative captions for Jeffrey’s photograph, I wanted to give a shout out to several runners-up. 

Marcia: “And this week’s selection for Oprah’s Book Club is…”

Jennifer: “I heard Oprah really is God.”

Claire : ‘Om mani padme hum’
‘O Prah me find me hom’
‘Oprah me find me mom’

Michael: The guy on the far right says, “I heard that she and Steadman are having problems again.”

Cathy: Is this America’s new president?

All I could think of was, “AND EVERYONE WINS A YAK!”

The Art of an Improbable Life Blavatar

Jeffrey Aaronson’s Improbable Journey with Steve Jobs (Part Two)

See Part One in my 10/11/11 Post

FEBRUARY 1984: After calling the magazine to tell them what has transpired, Jeffrey is on a plane heading to Cupertino, CA. The editor is stunned by the access Jeffrey has been given. Jobs has been notorious for being private and avoiding the media.

Photo of original Apple Computer sign in Cupertino, CAFor Jeffrey, the magazine assignment becomes much less important than capturing an exciting moment in time, knowing Steve Jobs and his family of co-workers, are creating one of the coolest things he has ever seen: a personal computer that’s small enough to sit on a desk, and one that can be used by anyone, not just scientists, business people, or computer geeks. The drawing and painting capabilities alone have him dazzled, not to mention the the word processing.

Jeffrey spends a week at Apple headquarters and photographs like a fly on the wall. One of Jobs’ colleagues questions why Jeffrey is being allowed into proprietary meetings, but Jobs insists. “He’s my friend and you can trust him, so he’s staying. Now let’s move.”

Photo of Steve Jobs at Apple Headquarters in Cupertino, CA, 1984

Steve Jobs leading his team in a meeting at Apple Headquarters in Cupertino, CA, 1984. ©Jeffrey Aaronson.

Read the rest of this story and enjoy many rarely-seen photographs of Steve Jobs in our ebook, Steve & i, which is now available on Amazon for the Kindle devices, Barnes & Noble for the NOOK and iTunes for iDevices.

Steve and i book cover

Jeffrey Aaronson’s Improbable Journey with Steve Jobs(Part One)

THEN: THINK DIFFERENT (Part One)

February 1984: It’s a classic winter day in Aspen. Snow is falling like heavy cotton as photographer Jeffrey Aaronson sits hunched over his light table, editing film. As he lowers his loupe and glances up from his slides for a moment, he suddenly notices a flash of brown amidst all the white outside his window. A UPS truck is pulling up in front of his studio. Jeffrey isn’t expecting a package, so curiosity immediately tickles his frontal lobe.

In a matter of minutes Jeffrey finds himself staring at a large white box sitting on his studio floor. He can do little more than shake his head and smile when he sees the word Macintosh printed on its side, along with its signature design.

Inside the box he finds a brand new Apple Macintosh 128K computer along with a keyboard and a new thing called a mouse. He also finds a hand-written note from Steve Jobs. It simply reads:

“Be a part of the future—Steve”

At that moment, Jeffrey knows he has just opened up more than a computer box; he has opened up his entire world—a world in which anything is possible. Not because of the machine per se, but because of the impact the machine’s creator has had on him. The computer is merely a symbol of all that is possible when a brilliant imagination is supported by hard work and fearlessness.

Jeffrey smiles at the boldness of his friend’s characteristically minimal note, and is stunned by his generosity. But then again, not really. In the past month, Steve Jobs has bowled him over countless times…

Steve and i book cover

Read the rest of this improbable story and see many more rarely-seen photographs of Steve Jobs in our ebook, Steve & i, which is now available on Amazon for the Kindle, Barnes and Noble for the NOOK, and iTunes for the iPad and other idevices.

Thursday’s Picture of the Week PHOTO CAPTION CONTEST

Photo of monks watching television

Take part in our first ever Improbable Caption Contest and win a $20 Amazon gift card.

First of all, please be assured there are no strings attached whatsoever. This is just my way of having fun and celebrating creativity.

Now, take a close look at who these viewers are watching on TV, and submit your best caption by simply drop it into the comment box.

Next Thursday, October 13th, I will select the winning caption and announce it here on the blog. The person with the most creative caption will be emailed a $20 gift card from Amazon.

Good luck! I can’t wait to hear your creative ideas!

Oh, and also, of course, I’ll be sharing the story behind this much-published photograph.

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Beyond Rangoon (Part Two)

THEN: BEYOND RANGOON (PART TWO)

APRIL 1989: As you might remember in Part One of this story (see my post on 9/27/11    if you missed it), the last time I hear from Jeffrey is when he’s in Bangkok, on his way to Rangoon to photograph a seemingly innocuous story about daily life in Burma for The Christian Science Monitor.

Photo of a vendor in Mandalay, Burma

These are the days before email, iChat, text messaging and the constant stream of news gliding across our televisions and computer screens, so while I’m aware of Burma’s dark history, I’m unaware of Aung San Suu Kyi’s recent arrest or the military crackdown Jeffrey is about to drop himself into. We are completely out of contact for ten days.

Now, if you will, flash forward with me to when Jeffrey arrives home from Burma…

I can tell by Jeffrey’s glassy eyes that he’s exhausted. The kind of exhausted that makes yawning feel like too much effort.

When I ask how his assignment went, all he can say is, “Insane.”

I can’t tell if it’s a good insane or a bad insane. Then he grabs a box of slides out of his carry-on bag. I try to imagine why he would have had his film processed in Asia instead of the lab at home like he always did, but instead of asking, I open the box, grab a loupe and take a look at the slides.

When I see Aung San Suu Kyi, Burma’s most powerful symbol of hope and freedom, staring back at me instead of water buffaloes and golden temples, I’m stunned.

“How in god’s name did you photograph Aung San Suu Kyi?” I stammer.

“It’s a very long story,” Jeffrey says, exhaling deeply and throwing himself into a chair.

It isn’t until the following evening over dinner and a bottle of wine that Jeffrey finally recounts the details of his trip. Goosebumps rise on my arms as he describes it all.

This is but a tiny portion of what he experienced…

Photo of martial law in Rangoon, Burma 1989

Excerpts from Chapter Three of my book…

Ko Ye’s leathery brown hands grip the steering wheel, slowly navigating the embassy car through the streets of Rangoon. Armed soldiers lining both sides of the road peer inside the windows, and beads of sweat drip down the driver’s temples and neck.

The only sound in the airless car is an unspoken symphony of anxiety created by three pounding hearts, the rumble of the diesel engine, and Ko Ye’s laden sighs.

At the first roadblock, the driver’s eyes flash in the rearview mirror to Jeffrey and Andrew, the two journalists in the back seat, reinforcing the insanity of what they’re doing. Upon order, he slowly rolls down the window; nobody dares breathe.

Photo of martial law in Rangoon, Burma

Jeffrey carefully shifts his knees to make sure his camera bag is covered on the floor below. Andrew looks straight ahead. Angry Burmese words are launched at Ko Ye. The passengers have no idea what’s being said, but somehow the driver’s shaky, high-pitched response convinces the soldier to wave them through.

Nearly a half hour later, after several more chilling roadblocks, they arrive at a compound near Inya Lake. A wall of soldiers surrounds the entrance, and it’s clear that whomever’s inside, is at the will of the AK-47’s outside. The embassy car is the only reason the solid metal gate opens, and as Ko Ye slowly pulls the car forward, Jeffrey and Andrew finally allow themselves to exhale…

______________

…On the veranda of the faded two-story colonial villa, a slender woman wearing a simple flowered blouse and a green traditional longyi sits waiting. Her thick black hair, pinned back with a hibiscus, frames her high cheekbones and delicate oval face.

Portrait of Aung San Suu Kyi at her house in Rangoon, Burma, 1989When Aung San Suu Kyi stands and graciously welcomes them in her perfect Oxford English, Jeffrey takes a moment to center himself, trying to remember how he arrived at this unexpected moment in his photographic career.

He flashes back to breakfast earlier that morning. His camera bag is sitting in the chair next to him, and he suddenly notices a foreigner watching him. Not sure what to make of it, he half-smiles, then finishes his breakfast, all the while trying to imagine what this guy is about. Before he has a chance to speculate further, he hears an Australian voice say, “You’re a photographer, right?”

Jeffrey cocks his head and looks up out of the corner of his eye, instinctively putting up his defenses.

“Nope…just here on vacation.”

Before Jeffrey has time to ask him who he is or what he’s about, the Aussie interrupts and sits down at the table, throwing his hand out to shake. “I’m Andrew Walsh,” (his name has been changed to protect his identity) he announces, then lowers his voice, “I’m a reporter for The Age in Australia.”

Then he quickly begins telling his story in a hushed tone. “Listen, my country is the only democratic country in the world right now that hasn’t broken diplomatic relations with Burma after Aung San Suu Kyi was placed under house arrest.” He looks around to make sure nobody else is listening.

“I have an opportunity to use the Australian Embassy car to go interview her this afternoon, and I need a photographer. We’ll be going under the auspices of checking on her—sort of a diplomatic mission for the embassy—to make sure she’s all right.”

Jeffrey has a hard time believing the proposition he’s hearing, but Andrew continues, “In exchange for this exclusive opportunity, I just need one photograph of her for my story. Then you’ll have free reign of everything else. We’ll even pay you for licensing the photograph.”

Andrew doesn’t need to sell Jeffrey. Exposing human rights abuses and injustice in the world drives Jeffrey from his belly. Grabbing his camera bag, he asks, “When do we leave?”

___________________

…Inside the heavily treed compound humidity and oppression hang on Andrew and Jeffrey like wet quilts. The stifling air doesn’t budge, but the energy radiating from Aung San Suu Kyi swirls into an electrifying breeze.

While Jeffrey patiently waits for Andrew to interview her, he mentally composes photographs in his head. He’s also swept away by the poise and defiance of this striking 44-year old woman. A wife and mother, and Burma’s most powerful voice for change, she exudes grace while fearlessly trying to lead her party and country in a new direction…

In perfect English, she articulates her hopes and dreams for her country and reveals the reality of its past. “Our party is expected to win the majority of parliament seats during the upcoming election,” she explains, “but the junta is cracking down, afraid to lose its power. You can’t have power without responsibility.”

… Jeffrey, knowing there isn’t much time left before the light disappears, begins photographing. Quickly placing the bright red flag of The National League for Democracy behind her, he shoots frame after frame, capturing the mix of intellect, warmth and defiance in her eyes.

Portrait of Aung San Suu Kyi at her house in Rangoon, Burma, 1989

Portrait of Aung San Suu Kyi at her house in Rangoon, Burma, 1989Her chapped lips and the shadows under her eyes reveal the vulnerability of a woman who’s been treated harshly, but also the stoicism of a leader whose fortitude could never be underestimated. Then he captures the family connection and the love of her country as she sits near a large portrait of her father, General Aung San, who negotiated Burma’s independence from the United Kingdom in 1947. As she tells the story of how he was assassinated when she was just two years old, the harsh reality of her country is hammered home even more.

In no time, the light fades and they know they must leave.

As they depart the compound, Aung San Suu Kyi’s last words grip them…“Let the world know.”

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When Jeffrey finishes telling me this story, then shares other details about the sketchy drive back from her compound, how he duct-taped his undeveloped film to the bottom of his hotel bed to keep it safe, and how he and Andrew also used the embassy car to photograph a demonstration in which dozens of protesters were slaughtered, I count my blessings that he made it home safely.

What resonates most though, are Aung San Suu Kyi’s words, “Let the world know.” Jeffrey and I both know it’s our responsibility to get his images published so people can see what’s happening in Burma.

In the coming months and years, that is exactly what we try to do. Not only does The Age publish one of Jeffrey’s photographs, but his portraits of Aung San Suu Kyi become the most published photographs of her ever. One graces the cover of Time Magazine when she wins the Burmese elections, and later when she wins the Nobel Peace Prize. Others are splashed across dozens of magazine covers in Europe, Asia and Latin America, in every kind of publication, large and small.

Time Magazine with photo of Aung San Suu Kyi

Her face becomes the light in the midst of Burma’s darkness, a symbol of courage and strength around the world. Like Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama, she gives up everything for what she believes in, and its her sacrifice and fortitude that inspire veneration around the world.

Her words are also one of the reasons I’m writing my book…to let the world know.

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Postscript: In November 2010 Aung San Suu Kyi was finally released, after spending most of the last 21 years in some form of imprisonment. She continues to fight for democracy and freedom for the Burmese people. The billboard below is an example of the challenges she faces. Click on it to view it larger.

Photo of a government propaganda sign in Rangoon, Burma

Photo of a government propaganda billboard, 1996

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Thursday’s Picture of the Week: Japan

Photo of a woman in Tokyo, Japan wearing a Kimono at Shinjuku train stationBehind the scenes: It’s 1992 and Jeffrey is working on assignment for Travel Holiday, doing an editorial feature on rice in Japan. He’s photographing everything from sake factories and rice farmers to the cultural and religious significance of rice.

Because taxis in Tokyo are exorbitant, he decides to do his client a favor and take the subway to a Shinto shrine where he’ll be photographing a ceremony involving rice.

Inside Shinjuku Station, as he stands in line waiting for the train, he notices a woman near the front wearing a traditional kimono–something seldom seen in modern Tokyo anymore.

Jeffrey knows this is a perfect opportunity to create a photograph showing the contrast between old and new. Quickly he pulls out his camera, steps out of line and tries to frame the image. Within minutes the train arrives. He has just enough time to shoot off two frames, capturing this fleeting moment, before jumping aboard the train with the rest of the passengers.

This picture, which was created with a Nikon F4 camera, a Nikon 85mm lens, and Fuji Velvia film, has been honored with a PATA Gold Award and has also been published on the cover of several magazines.

Earlier this year Jeffrey also donated this photograph to Life Support Japan to help Japan’s tsunami and earthquake victims. The fundraising relief effort was organized by Crista Dix of Wall Space with the help of Aline Smithson of Lenscratch, and raised over $50,000 for Direct Relief International and Habitat for Humanity in a matter of days.

If you’d like to know more about this project you can click on this link: Life Support Japan.

If you’re interested in seeing more of Jeffrey’s photographs from Japan, you can click on this link: rice in Japan.

Look for my next regular THEN and NOW post on Tuesday! And as always, I’d love to hear from you. Leave your comments or questions and I’ll be sure to reply.

Thanks for being a loyal follower!

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