Darjeeling

For many travelers, Darjeeling offers a bit of a respite from India's usual madness and unpredictability. Situated at 6,700ft on a steep hillside of the Himalayan foothills, the small town moves at a comfortable pace. 

Porters and sherpas hoist massive loads as they methodically ascend the narrow staircases that wind through the hill station as school children smile and scamper between their legs.

Like all streets in India, the hum of life and cars and horns and animals is still there-- though perhaps at a few decibels lower than other areas of the busy country.

On clear mornings, the world's third highest peak, Mt Kangchenjunga (28,169ft), looms in the distance and dwarfs its surroundings. From Tiger Hill, a lookout point in the nearby town of Ghoom, spectators gather in total blackness to await sunrise, huddled together with blankets and cups of steaming chai and coffee, waiting patiently for an unfiltered view of the massive mountain.

The respect and general calmness more commonly associated with Nepalese and Tibetan culture has obviously migrated across borders into Darjeeling. 

Portrait of a Fire: Janta Lodge

On March 8, 2013, a fire tore through Janta Lodge in Darjeeling sending the typically quiet town that sits just on India's side of the border with Nepal into a panic.

Crowds flocked from the nearby market, "Chowk Bazar", to watch the flames as they ravaged the old building-- completely destroying its interior and leaving it smoking late into the afternoon. To date, no casualties have been reported.

A mixed group of ragtag firefighters and pedestrians worked to fight the blaze but couldn't prevent the interior from burning out on every floor. 

The day after the fire, I explored the gutted interior of the once bustling guesthouse with a group of locals. The blackened walls, melted sockets and singed decorations left an eery atmosphere.

Nostalgia hung like a thick fog in the air-- disconnecting the past from the present in a messy break.

Myanmar Part I

The past month has been a whirlwind of flights, trains, bus rides, broken computers and perhaps most discombobulating; a sudden and unexpected change in continents.

I left Thailand for Myanmar (Burma) on Aug. 25 after spending a week preparing for what would be a 17 day venture into the rapidly changing country. Things were looking up; my visa application went through with no hitches, my Thai Baht had been successfully converted into perfectly crisp U.S. Dollars-- only brand new unblemished bills are excepted in exchange for the local currency, Kyat, in Burma-- and despite monsoon season, the weather report wasn't even looking too bad.

Then, because of a lengthy list of details that I'll spare you from having to read involving my partial citizenship, I realized that I needed to move to Denmark. Like, soon. Like, I probably-shouldn't-be-galavanting-around-Asia-right-now soon. Like, immediately-after-I-get-back-from-Burma-is-the-only-way-this-will-possibly-work soon.

So I did.

And now, after getting settled into an apartment in Copenhagen-- courtesy of a good friend-- I am now finding the time to sit down and really take a close at my take from Burma.

My trip was essentially divided into two parts: Number one being the sightseeing and touristy beginning of my time in the country and two being the last five days, in which, I traveled to the town of Sittwe in the northwest Rakhine State where conflict between Buddhists and Muslims (frequently referred to as the "Rohingya" people) has been simmering since June when, in one single week, thousands on both sides were displaced from their homes after a violent string of murders and arsons took place.

But, before I post images and experiences from Sittwe, I think it would be better to start with something more broad-- something that shows something more subtle going on in Burma. At the core of it, the country is undergoing rapid changes. Just last week, oppositional party leader and National League for Democracy (NLD) chairperson, Daw Aung San Suu Kyi, met with President Obama on his own soil-- a political appearance that would have been unthinkable a few years ago when Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi was being held under house arrest in Yangon. Then, earlier this year, she was elected to parliament in yet another move that seems to hint at a more democratic future for Myanmar.

The future I heard locals speaking of varied from place to place. On a night bus somewhere outside of Inle Lake, a business man spoke of the plethora of possibilities as he flipped through files on his iPad-- his legs crossed underneath the traditional checkered longyi he wore together with a pair of weathered sandals.

In Kalaw, a small mountain town in Shan State known as a popular starting point for treks, I drank tea with a Punjabi guesthouse owner on a cloudy afternoon. His prognosis for the country he grew up in was much more grim.

"We cannot get passports, it would take years," he said, speaking for himself and other non-ethnic minority groups that inhabit the country. "But for someone with a connection to the government-- who knew the right people-- it would take just a few days."

Such division is apparent in Burma where the what-is-new clashes with the what-used-to-be-old each and every day.

Wearing a traditional Burmese "longyi", a man walks through the grounds of Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, Myanmar. The pagoda is believed to have been built some 2,500 years ago.

A young couple check their smartphones as a monk reads a newspaper at Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, Myanmar.

A goat herder tends to his animals near the Nann Myint viewing tower in Bagan, Myanmar. The 60 meter tower officially opened to the public in 2005 to provide a higher vantage point to see the over 2,000 ancient stupas and pagodas that dot the horizon of the surrounding area. Despite ample qualifications, Bagan has not been awarded a UNESCO World Heritage Site which some believe is due to the modern restorations some temples have undergone as well as the construction of new buildings such as the Nann Myint Tower. 

A woman walks past a Daw Aung San Suu Kyi t-shirt for sale at the Bogyoke Market in Yangon, Myanmar.

Crowds gather near the the Yangon central bus station in the late evening.

A young boy sits in his home outside of Kalaw, Myanmar. "It his our dream to live in a home like this," said his parents of the picture displayed on the wall behind him.

A boy holds a BB Gun to the head of a young Buddhist Monk at a festival in Bagan, Myanmar.

Wearing the white cream derived from tree bark as traditional make up, a girl sits along side a dirt road outside of Kalaw, Myanmar. 

A young couple share a roadside kiss after the night bus they were riding on broke down in the early morning on its way to Bagan, Myanmar.

Mae Khue Cockfighting

Blood, feathers and cash...

Cockfighting in rural Thailand.

Over the past few weeks, I've spent a little time documenting this form of gambling as it was quite accessible by motorbike from Chiang Mai. I first visited the venue with photographers Fabian Weiss and Anna Spelman on Aug. 5. Then, on Aug. 13, I returned with photographer Spike Johnson to try and narrow the focus of the images a bit as well as capture more audio.

The format is very similar to that of traditional boxing-- trainers handle and care for their fighters with fervor and during the bouts betters scream out in both joy and anguish. In between rounds, the trainers work quickly to sew up the chickens while feeding them various synthetic steroids and energy boosters.  Fights do not go to the death, but rather, until one chicken either loses interest or becomes too weak to go on.

Below is an ambient audio mix I put together from the cockfighting venue. Turn up the volume...

Hundreds of spectators gather at a cockfighting venue near Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Betters scream out as a fight takes a dramatic turn.

Two chickens stare each other down during a fight.

Spectators count their cash during a fight in the main ring. Though very rare, bets in the main ring can run as high as 1 million Baht (~$31,700).

A spectator lights a cigarette during an intermission.

A man makes a bet in the small ring during a bout.

Trainers stitch and sew the wounds in their chicken in between rounds of a fight in the main ring.

Using a common technique, a trainer sews the bleeding eyelid of his chicken before taking it back to fight again in the main ring.

A cock waits in a cage outside of the venue.

A trainer waits to weigh-in before a fight.

Single: Muang On Cave

Yesterday, after my original plan fell through (more on this project in coming weeks), I was left with two options:

1. Turn around and make the 45 minute drive back to Chiang Mai where I would almost positively end up sitting in a cafe staring at the wall while spending money on caffeinated drinks, or...

2. Continue driving until I found something else to do.

Being that it was early afternoon, it seemed criminal to go with anything but "#2". So, with that settled, I set off and started cruising. Another 45 minutes later, I saw a sign for an "art cafe" on the side of the road. It was a simple sign, but it succeeded in feeding my "I'm-from-Seattle-so-I'm-supposed-to-like-the-word-art" ego. Needless to say, I pulled over. The place was called La Bhu Salah, and was run by a  kind Thai man who authors a variety of traditional cookbooks. After a tour of his property, he pointed me down the road to the Muang On Cave as I'd asked him if there were any good hikes nearby.

Another sign that read "CAVES----->" clued me in to the turnoff.

A short stair climb leads to the entrance for the cave where utter silence awaits-- refreshing after months staying in cities. 

I was getting ready to leave when I saw what would have been a nice image if only there were people to occupy the lower portion of the picture. A few minutes later, a young Thai couple climbed down into the cave and walked right up to the mat I was situated near. We exchanged quick bows before they removed their shoes to pay respects to the reclining Buddha and I snapped off a few frames in the process. 

A young Thai couple pay their respects to a reclining Buddha figure in the Muang On Cave near Chiang Mai, Thailand on Aug. 11, 2012.

Come Back Big

Foundry Photojournalism week 2012 may be in the books, but Foundry Photojournalism recovery week 2012 is in full swing-- errr, full walk. A slow walk that is...

Case in point being that my schedule has been wide open yet I've still needed six days before finally feeling up to the task of creating a fresh blog post with new work.

During the (crazy) week, I worked alongside five fellow students in Danish photojournalist Henrik Kastenskov's multimedia class. My subject was a local Muay Thai fighter Mana "Big" Inkham, who, seven months earlier, was the victim of a hit and run accident while stopped at a light on his motorbike with his girlfriend. He suffered a severe concussion, spent a week in the hospital and has since continued to train and fight despite a stern disapproval from his doctor.

As someone who used to spend most of his time in pursuit of athletics, I could immediately relate to Big's lifestyle. He wakes up early, trains for a few hours in the morning and then sleeps and relaxes during the daytime before continuing with his training into the evening. And while I never faced anything close to the magnitude of setback that Big is dealing with now, the feeling of dedicating 95% of your time to a sport, only to have it chew you up and spit you out with nothing more to show than a few bruises is something quite familiar. I think all endurance athletes know this feeling all too well...

I followed Big as he prepared for a fight in the neighboring Lamphun Province-- about a three and a half hour drive from Chiang Mai. After the fight, I spent a few days putting together a multimedia piece that tells Big's story. I have since decided to re-edit the piece so instead of posting it, I will share some still photos from the project. When I have finalized the multimedia piece, I will post it here.

Until then, here are ten photographs from my time spent with Big.

Big trains at the Lanna Muay Thai Gym in Chiang Mai, Thailand.

Big shares the back of his trainer's truck with two dogs who live at the Lanna Muay Thai center.

After a hard early morning run, Big cools down before heading back to Chiang Mai.

A set of keys sit on the edge of a boxing ring at Lanna Muay Thai training center. 

Big has a laugh before heading to his fight in the Lamphun Province of Northern Thailand on July 30, 2012.

A crowd of a few hundred waits eagerly for Big's fight to begin in Li, Thailand on July 30, 2012.

Lanna Muay Thai founder Andy Thompson participates with Big in pre-fight traditions.

Big's trainer holds his head and offers encouragement between the second and third rounds of his fight.

After losing by way of judge's decision, Big holds his aching head and tries to sleep.

Big rides in his trainer's truck on July 30, 2012.

Bangkok Offerings

Below is a little multimedia piece that I made from this morning's gathering of Buddhist Monks in Asok, Bangkok, Thailand.

I had finished up shooting/collecting audio and was sitting curbside drinking water and thinking of my empty stomach when a monk approached me and offered a bowl of rice pudding. As cars flew by and motorcycles beeped their horns, the two of us sat on the ground and had breakfast as the sun rose up and the crowds dispersed from the event.

In short, it was a spectacular morning...

Sister Joan Evans

Yesterday, through a friend, I was introduced to Sister Joan Evans, an Australian woman who has dedicated the past 20 years of her life to living and working in the Klong Toey Slum of Bangkok. Each week those in need gather at her doorstep to request funds for everything from food to minor home repair.

Sister Joan's meetings with those who come to see her are brief -- often beginning with an exchange of greetings and ending minutes later with a quiet bow of respect.

The amount of money (all from donations) is usually quite small -- sometimes only a few hundred Baht, equivalent to just over six U.S. Dollars -- but for those living in Klong Toey, where upward mobility is next to impossible, it can make all the difference.

In the two decades Sister Joan has lived in the slum, poverty rates have remained stagnant. Today, she focuses primarily on helping children stay in school. With an education, she hopes they may be able to grow up with an understanding of their own situation which could prompt some to seek a better life.

After receiving financial help from Sister Joan Evans, a man bows in respect before leaving her home.

Residents of Bangkok's Klong Toey slum wait outside of Sister Joan's home.

Sister Joan hands a woman a small amount of Thai Baht to help get her through the next week. 

A woman signs a sheet to acknowledge she has received help from Sister Joan. Each visitor must sign in to help maintain an organized record of outgoing money.

Outside of Sister Joan's home, visitors from the slum wait their turn to meet with her.

A bead of sweat drips down a man's cheek as he waits to be seen by Sister Joan. Nerves often run high as visitors are not guaranteed to receive financial aid.

A young boy looks on as he waits to meet with Sister Joan. 

Inside of Sister Joan's home, a young girl waits after requesting money for school.

A white board inside of Sister Joan's home.

Sister Joan hands a woman a small amount of cash.

As heavy rain clouds move in, Sister Joan meets with two young schoolgirls.

I will be spending a little more time photographing life in Klong Toey before heading up to Chiang Mai via overnight train on Sunday. 

That's all for now ;) 

Ian