Joeyl Blog

Joey L in Ethiopia- The video

Sun, 15 Feb 2009 15:42:25 -0500

This video is completely tasteless. You know, I never thought I'd ever use the cheese song "Push it to the Limit" in any of my videos... But I just did. At least this shows a better look at my trip to Ethiopia. For nicer more professional information, check out my earlier posts. Enjoy **..**
Joey L in Ethiopia from Joey L on Vimeo.

Joey L in Ethiopia - The Omo Valley 1/2

Wed, 04 Feb 2009 00:00:00 -0500

This journal focusses only on the behind the scenes element of the trip. I decided it was best not to include the actual images I was working for, and to keep them seperate with their stories on my website in the gallery. Check out-

http://www.joeyL.com > Personal > Abyssinia

and

http://www.joeyL.com > Personal > Holy Men

F o r e w o r d

The Dignified Portrait

I define the way I photograph people as a "dignified portrait," and certainly used this style in Ethiopia. I feel in order to present something about someone in a photograph, it must be done very carefully and with great respect. I feel the advent of point and shoot cameras and the ease of sharing photography every where in the world (even though I admit this is how I got started and how I survive) can limit ones view of how important an image really can be. The tools and methods I use are not as important as the mindset, but I feel they do well in getting my direction across in presenting the subject.

Most of my images are contrived and posed. I think it is wrong to assume this direction as less realistic than a photojournalistic approach. I believe that andlsquo;purist photojournalismandrsquo; is a very strong form of communication, and has its place in the world, but it is not my calling. Every single image not captured by an eye undergoes some kind of process, be it light reacting to the film which renders color and tonality or a digital signal being reassembled and compressed. If you take snapshots wishing them to not look contrived, then they are contrived to be snapshots. Every single image ever taken is contrived in some way or another. No process is purer than another, and no color is a truer color. (I have never seen the world in black and white either. )

Abyssinia, the Cradle of Mankind

I have named the series Abyssinia. Abyssinia is the old name for Ethiopia, which translates to "beautiful." (Ethiopia translates to 'land of burnt faces'.) It has no political meaning, but simply a nice way of describing the ancient in this country. Although disputed, many people believe that humankind first blossomed from an area near the Ethiopian/Kenyan border due to strong archeological evidence. And also disputed, many people also believe that Ethiopia is the region of the Garden of Eden mentioned in the bible. Regardless, it is safe to say that perhaps some of mankinds first peoples originated in this region, and it's people remain ancient and diverse... However, in this present day they are also people of change.

I feel the best method to measure change in a people is not their environment or what they wear... The best method of investigating change is in a people's beliefs. In Abyssinia, I have focussed on this area through personal interviews with each subject. These words are just as important as the photographs.

Anteneh Endale Mamo

Anteneh turned out to be the best guide I have ever had on any trip. I was so lucky to come across him in Ethiopia, and I tell anyone who wishes to visit this area to go with a reliable and good guide. Without one, you are doomed. Anteneh is a pure and genuine person, which is hard to come across in a guide. He did everything in his power for us and didn't remain just a guide, but became our friend and part of the group. Our problems in the trip became his problems, and then became solved. I would be in some serious trouble without him. He's a person I'll stay in touch with forever.

He uses the money to put his sisters through school and is saving to go to school to become a doctor. There are some horrible guides from Addis Ababa that do not give a shit about their client, I witnessed it first hand throughout my travels. Anteneh was born and raised into the Hamer tribe but moved to the city with his mother years later. He speaks 9 languages of the tribes, some fluent and others enough to communicate. If you would like to contact Anteneh, write to dortheman@yahoo.com

Ryan

Ryan is both my friend from high school and assistant. When I photograph, the actual process now is a lot different from how it started out. I used to be very simple, and just walk around with a camera scouting out the best light situations- sunset downtown when the harsh low-level light bounced off metallic buildings or glass windows onto subjects. Then it got a little more complex, and I would move subjects to these locations within a few meters. Then I decided if I wanted this kind of dramatic light, there is no sense is waiting for it... So now I have a friend walk around with me with a light on a stick, and a battery generator in a backpack. I have brought this setup around the world- and I owe a lot of thanks to the poor guys carrying it all. They literally got lost in jungles, climbed mountains, fought off tribal warriors, and ate the same disgusting food I did, except they were holding my big stupid light on a stick the whole time.

T h e J o u r n a l

Oct 31st, 2008

Day 1 Ethiopia

We arrived last night at 11:59 pm to Addis Ababa. It was a 21 hour flight from Canada.

Toronto > Amsterdam > Nairobi Kenya > Addis Ababa

Lots of red wine on the plane to pass the time, most of it thieved from the little cart the flight attendants push around. No problems at all on the flight, in fact there were such little problems compared to my other flights I wonder why I am having such good fortune. After getting the Pelican cases full of equipment and going through a final security check we met our guide Anteneh. He is turning out to be extremely cool and a perfect fit for our photographic methods. I stumbled upon a suggestion in a forum for him and followed my hunch after exchanging a few e-mails. It turns out he used to actually be a tribesman of the Hamer. His personality makes me trust him already. We spent the day negotiating prices with dealers to rent a 4X4 to take us into the wilderness. The Omo Valley is a 3 day drive from the capital city. First place (dealer's name is Cheru. Beware.) tried to mess with us but Laurent would have none of it... We got a very good price from another place called "Stone Age Tours." The vehicle is very new and seems to be in good condition. I write from it now... Sitting in the back seat surrounded by equipment.

I have brought my studio lights with me in order to try something new and experiment with a new technique I have been developing and pushing toward for years. Our first hotel was half-decent. Me and Ryan consider it half-decent, but do not have great expectations to begin with in anything. It felt safe, had a shower... whatever- It's all we need. The street by our hotel was thriving with smallish nightclubs and many prostitutes whistling and calling at us. Last night I slept 1 hour and slept a collective 4 hours on the plane the night before. I am not tired, however and I look forward to everything.

We crammed inside a small local bus to change money with a black-market exchange man, keeping an eye out for the police. I have big stacks of money in my bag that I must bring with me throughout my whole time in the south due to there being no ATMs outside Addis Ababa. The exchange rate at the black market is much better than the bank, it is just risky. You have to check the exchange rate on your currency daily to avoid being swindled, and know a good dealer. I bet they don't tell you about that on the Discovery Channel.

Nov 1st, 2008

On the Road to the Omo

We left the hotel this morning at 7 am as planned. I had an amazing sleep compared to last night. Lots of extra work required for studio gear but I believe it is worth the extra burden.

We stopped along the road where two things caught our attention. The first was a very big water basin in which local people were swimming and washing. The next was a strange landscape. As we stopped, just enjoying the view, not taking any pictures, very interesting people started to walk by. We photographed them and me and Laurent both focussed on the same two beautiful girls without knowing it.

The roads leading south in Ethiopia are dangerous by night. (We spent too much time photographing and stopping on the way to reach Arba Minch in time.) Not only is there a chance that the shifta's get you (road bandits known to hide in the bushes and rob cars, shooting first) but also because if you get a flat, there aren't many people around to help. All of a sudden, the car jerked to the side. I popped by headphones out... Our driver Bickey says "we blew a tire." Understandable on these roads! We have a spare. However, the spare is weak. We repair it quickly, keeping an eye on the forest around us and are off again. We will be sure to repair the tube at a shop in the morning because this will likely happen again. We are tired.

We arrive at Arba Minch but do not have a hotel. We try many places and have no luck. We are forced to sleep in a "hooker's hotel", a phrase I coined that we used all through our trip. These are common in Ethiopia but to say that is quite degrading because of course all over the world, aren't they? What do you do in a hotel that rents by the hour?There's a bar with many prostitutes which you negotiate and lead to your scummy room. There are some wipes and a condom by the bedside and there seems to be only Ethiopian men staying here. We spray the bed with my flea spray, use our sleeping bags and move on to sleep. I sleep like a baby.

Nov 2nd, 2008

On the road to Jinka

We are soaking wet. We have worked all day. I have no pictures. Today we visited 'New York' which is a village near Konso resembling NY because of the many rocks forming sky scrapers. I usually don't care for landscape photographs at all, but we were here and it was on the way so I thought why not. It was beautiful. I took out my camera, beginning to set it up.... Then the rain softly started spitting, I thought nothing of it. 10 seconds later it began to PISS. I guess I have to get used to Africa, I'm not home safe anymore.

We threw all the bags in the car and tried to clean up as quick as possible but everything got completely soaked. The initial thought is- "Oh shit!" $40 000 gone... But I have insurance. The thing that mind boggles me is when I read forum threads in which people post "I don't know if I should bring my camera to ___." It's so silly, of course bring your camera there. What else did you buy it for? To sit at home? Take the risk, get insurance, who really cares about the stuff that is beyond our control. Our next stop is Jinka, the village closest to the Mursi tribe. Our ride to Jinka is going to be extremely uncomfortable because we were wet, cold, tired hungry and had no pictures to show for it.

We finally arrived in Jinka after being de-toured many times down impossible roads and huge dangerous river-crossings. We pull into the usual mediocre place to sleep and dream of clean toliets.

Nov 3rd 2008

In Mursi territory

Mursi Language, basic pronunciation

Hello- Keepay
Beautiful- Peecansangee
Thank you- beeckheest
No- Shintee

I scribble down translations from Anteneh, sounding out the words so I can impress some tribal people. I don't want to appear like a normal visitor.

*2 hours later*

I write now from the jeep with two Mursi tribesman on the roof. Our arrival at the Mursi village today resulted in complete chaos. The Mursi tribe are known to be difficult to deal with the begin with, but many of them were drunk off a traditional drink which seems to be a lot more potent than usual alcoholic beverages. They demanded money for photographs, often raising the price of photography from 5 Ethiopian birr a photo to 20 birr ($2). They're very difficult subjects and I did not find any of them pleasant except one who is riding on the top hitching a ride to his friend in the next village. Yes, you have to pay the tribes that live along the roads, the ones in the jungle are a little bit more easy going, but I'm sure will be influenced soon. You see it's 2008, and it's hard to find some "real, traditional" tribes that do not depend on money. I commend them for making a business out of it. It's not really "ethnic prostitution" as some people say, it's merely exchanging goods. I hate to make visiting with the tribes an exchange of goods, but sometimes it really is more of a confrontation than a respectful meeting.

Let me tell you the roads in the Omo are not roads, they are more like mud trails that are available half the time. The whole jeep shakes, rattles and does not go over 15-30km most of the time. It is a slow progression into the jungle, dodging mud pits, lethal tsetse flies and other animals that run out in front of the car. I can't count how many times our jeep got stuck, even though the rainy season had passed us. One day of rain makes these roads impassible. The Mursi on the roof are happy to help us pile rocks, branches and whatever else we can find to pass some areas.

The funeral procession

We come across a large group of Bodi tribespeople running across the road ahead of us into a large empty field surrounded by a stunning view of mountains. A woman of the Bodi tribe has fallen ill and died. The other woman of the tribe shout to the spirits and chant of her death to bring her soul to peace. The Bodi men perform ceremonial death procession and will keep the body of the woman safe for 3 days. I speak with a young Bodi boy through Anteneh's translation about the tradition. He explains that after this, the tribe will gather together and eat the body as a sign of respect, and to ensure passing into the next world. The missionaries have failed to ban this practice. Elements of enduring spirit remain.

Nov 5th, 2008

My birthday and Realization

The 'dealings' with the Mursi and Bodi were better yesterday but still very much a business negotiation. It puts me off obviously, but I had a huge think and I realized something myself... I was looking for a pure and untouched tribe, away from the western world in a completely different way of life. Ancient. I had a pre-concieved notion of the area, perhaps inspired by the images I had seen of countless master photographers who had been to the area. 10 years ago, the area was a different place, but now... it's changing. These tribes are still living a very traditional and nomadic life, many of them certainly look ancient and unchanged, but to say they are not effected by the visitors, the governments pressures and development is completely insane. They way they believe and act is certainly different and being challenged from the original way. I understand that although I may be seeking something different than most tourists, I am part of this.

An idea is born. They way they believe and act is certainly different and being challenged from the original way. It has little to do with clothing or appearance, it is in custom. Change like this can not be made from the outside, but slowly through moral decisions within. I found comfort in what one Mursi boy told me. This was that even if you put him in western clothes, he would still be a Mursi. Of course he would, how could I be so ignorant? The problem rests in the religious conversion, as this promotes a change in mindset. It is mindset that makes an Animist (Ancient belief system based on spirits and nature), not appearance. I do not feel it is necessary to change beliefs in order to develop infrastructure in the tribes. Let's be real- they aren't the perfect and majestic beings presented in black and white photographs previous masters had made them out to be. These primitive people are the real deal- they have murdered, robbed, and resorted to other primal instincts to survive in the harsh landscape. Still, they represent a missing link back to an earlier time of man, a time closer to the Earth. I believe strongly that Animism, the belief of most tribes before monotheistic conversion (one God only religions) is crucial in the evolution of Mankind's consciousness. It cannot be shunned and labelled as "witchcraft" as one tribal woman told me, it must be carefully nurtured, studied and respected.

I cannot lie and only shoot tribal people in traditional dress, I must shoot the real subjects around me. It is important to not leave out the modern weapons, the chiefs basket ball shorts and the blanket clothing (the men were completely naked a few years ago). All of this is crucial. But this is not enough- It's not about traditional dress, I must put away my notions of how something is supposed to look, and embrace the truth. If a subject asks for money, I must tell this. These subjects are part of the tribe, so I must respect the decisions they make as part of that tribes new custom. I cannot resort to books or the internet for information, I must make personal interviews with every subject I photograph in order to reach a concensus. My story is about belief, the only real thing this change can be measured in. There can be no such thing as a "pure" tribe, for elements and customs between cultures have been interweaving since the dawn of man. Yes, the "this feels like a fucking circus" element is evidence of the disentigration of a culture, but there is more to it than the surface. Some of the women and children told me they want to change when the Missionaries come. The traditional spirit is not alive or dead, it is simply one of change.

Let me tell you that some of the missionaries and government can do good. There have been protestant Missionaries in Mago Park, the place of the Mursi, since the year I was born-1989.They have stopped tribal wars, saving many lives. They have helped build wells, schools, brought medication and instructions about HIV/AIDS protection. However, to me it is the goal of these groups that raises important questions- religious conversion. What does cultural identity mean? How important is it? Can there be a fair trade-off?

It is changing so fast that my guess is that there will be very little Animistic belief in 5 years. (Save a few stubborn elders) But they will be absorbed into the current Ethiopian working city culture, Orthodox and/or Muslim, and an ancient way completely lost. Once the current young generation is influenced, it is over. I am extremely lucky to travel here at such a historic time. I have to record that. It is not being photojournalistic and a purist, it is simply being real. None of the tribes relied on money years ago, but now we can see a different mindset in some tribes closer to the road.The government has moved them here, taking advantage of their former land. They have forced elders to sign papers they do not understand with thumbprints, making them illegal settlers on land their ancestors have preserved for hundreds of years. The government pays them off, introduces tribes to city life, and promises more money from tourists. I must visit these effected tribes, but also make it a point to trek deeper into the jungle to get the opinion of the more remote people who have not seen the missionaries. (Yet.)

I notice Nakumo, a Mursi girl, does not have a traditional lip piercing. Even though Nakumo is of age, she has not started a piercing for a traditional Mursi lip plate. She refuses to do so under the missionaries advice.

"We go around and put butter on the trees to wish for no drought, but this is a very old practice of the Mursi. Most of my friends have been converted by Christian missionaries, and I want to try it." - Nakumo

Today, we started to take the road into the Mursi settlement but we came across another jeep completely stuck in the mud. We had to turn back. It was my birthday so I didn't want to just do nothing all day... We rented some motorcycles off locals and road them around Jinka. Oh, I didn't mention my diarrhea. I felt sick yesterday and a bit today. I must have eaten some foreign bacteria my body is not used to. My bowels would slip out so easily that when I coughed during breakfast, I shit my pants. No, of course I am not embarrassed, it happens and just shows I am a foreigner in this exotic land. I have no shame in admitting I am a tourist. I notice the few tourists we come across in this area avoid me, do not want to talk, or are just rude. They too are seeking something remote and untouched, and are let down due to their expectations. I wonder if they would ever admit to shitting their pants too.

At night I see a man from the Bodi tribe with his friend, a missionary. He is drunk stumbling down the streets of Jinka, hours from his home in the jungle. His eyes are wide and bloodshot. I follow him closely with Anteneh. They walk into a bar, the Bodi is slightly phased by the lights and loud music, and looks upon the woman. They are all prostitutes. Him and the missionary negotiate over a few drinks and eventually leave with 2 of the girls. I am not sure if he is even educated about HIV/AIDS yet. This is the current state of the Omo Valley.

Nov 7th, 2008

Turmi Arrival

"Meat. Egg with meat. Meat with egg. Fried egg. Scrambled egg. Egg meat..." is the waiter explaining to us our menu for breakfast. I think he only has two things, and is trying to expand his menu! However, I am thankful to have these staples in a country famous for drought and starvation. Since it takes so long to prepare the food, I thought it would be a good idea to order it at night and pick it up tomorrow so we have as much time as possible with the Karo tribe. Today we drove finally from Jinka to Turmi. We watched the sloped hilly landscapes turn into a little flatter and the bush turn into finer thinner more "African-esque" trees. We are a 3-4 days drive from the capital and are in some deep shit now.

We had excellent luck tonight- Ryan took his first poop in 3 days. (Unlike me.) The first hotel we saw "Green Hotel" I had to refuse the rooms... I never refuse a room! But this was just too shitty and unsafe looking for all my equipment. I do not really care if everything gets stolen, as long as I have my hard drive. Yes as I explained, I do have insurance, but it is too early in the trip to say that. Having my equipment stolen now would ruin the trip since it is entirely photo-based. I want Ryan to be comfortable... He works hard carrying my stuff every day. He doesn't ask for much and is cool with anything but it is my duty to do the best I can. Trust me though, this new hotel we found now isn't much.

We have convinced the only "restaurant" in town to make us french fries, or 'chips'. They bought potatoes at the market, we explain how to slice them thin and fry them up in a pan with grease. They take more than 2 hours to prepare, but are delicious and a little taste of home and waiting is the best part.

Nov 10th, 2008

Bull-Jumping

My diet consists of porridge in the morning, skip lunch and find anything you can on trees (delicious by the way), then rice with our home-made chips for supper. It has been this way for the past 4 days, and will continue to be until we leave. Yesterday we lucked out big time and witnessed a bull-jumping ceremony, which is a right of passage for boys of the Hamer tribe. I think they are out of season right now but Anteneh found out from a kid on the street. After a 3 hour jeep ride, we trekked two hours into the jungle to a remote village. (This is going to be nothing to the Amazon tribes of South America I hope to find in the future.) We got there and witnessed the whipping of the women related to the bull jumper (whom I got a portrait but missed a good shot of the actual jump... but I got a nice video... Anteneh filmed it.) I was too busy mingling in the crowd and eating the sweet fruit picked from the top of the tree by Ure, our little friend from Turmi.

The women taunt the whippers and ask for more and more. The whipping is encouraged, and not a form of punishment as some people may think. Scars are a sign of beauty in Hamer culture. A real woman has scars. Ryan's legs are giving in from having the backpack, but "they are just swore!" he promises me. There were Italian anthropologists at the jumping ceremony, but no others. They followed our jeep home. We had to cross some rivers (sometimes getting out of the jeep and walking across to avoid danger) but the hardest was a dry river bed which we passed successfully but the Italian jeep did a huge jump and got some air. Their jeep, however, was perfectly fine and much stronger than our 4x4 in the end.

Galeb / Daasanach tribe

The road to the Karo has flooded again and we must visit the village another day. Such things are to be expected in the Omo Valley. Today we went back to the Galeb/ Daasanach village and were welcomed more warmly as we have been here several times now. I think this it is important when visiting these tribes to establish relationships, gain trust, learn names and stories. It puts you in a different category than people who just stop by, snap pictures and walk away. In order to reach it, we had to cross the Omo river in "Ogolo boats" which are carved from tree trunks. We loaded up the 40k camera in the shaky boat and passed the strong current. All the women are naked and decorate themselves with scraps from watchbands, bottle caps, and other materials they can find or trade with the Kenyans. (There village is very close to Kenya and trading is a usual practise.)

On the way home we got in an argument with our driver Bickey. He didn't want to drive passed sunset due to "insurance reasons." It's bullshit, he just doesn't want to work. Sunset light is the best light to shoot in. On our way to the Galeb, Bickey had sped passed the checkpoint and hit the wire to stop cars making it scrape across the fresh paint, and now he is moody.

There is a mysterious beast hidden in our hotel 'ceiling.' At night we hear it scurrying around and see a huge lump in the canvas sheet crawling above our heads. One day we woke up and there was a rooster in our room, but it was not the mysterious creature. I think it's some kind of bird or rat.

I'm starting to crave Western food a lot less and getting in the groove of things here. My biggest struggle is getting things charged. There are my flash batteries for the generator, my digital back battery, the camera battery, my laptop to download pictures and finally my Ipod! But the Ipod comes last, and is not too important. We have power from a generator only for a couple of hours a day so we either have to beg the hotel owners to keep it on, or to distribute my belongings throughout the hotel since each room only has 1 plug. When I plug in more than one thing, the lights begin to flickr and surge and I cause a power-outtage. This is a pain in the ass. I will buy some more AA's today because I think my power inverter has killed and shortened the life my current rechargeables.

Tomorrow we are visiting the Karo (but actually today since I am writing this a day late.) I couldn't finish last night because the power went off... No light. How ironic.

Nov 13th, 2008

The Secret of the Karo

The other day we went to the Karo village to find facilities created for tourists. We drove the car in, disappointed... A parking shelter for tourist cars and a hut to sit in and a Karo tribesman to serve warm beer. Of course we were thinking "what the fuck" so I decided it would be beneficial to speak to a tribesman about this decision. I started talking to Damo Dori, a man of about 25 years of age. Through his life he has seen the change in his culture, and supports it. He explained to me something shocking, but understandable. We spoke for about 1 hour and it went something like this-

J- what do you think of tourists coming?
DD- We like them because they give us money for photos
J- What do you think of missionaries?
DD- I think they are good because they are helping us become better people
J- How do you define a good person?
DD- Someone who has a lot of money, lives clean in a city... I suppose just someone from a city.
J- A tribesman could never be a good person?
DD- We are progressing to it now and will be soon when we work and move out of this place.
J- So you do not want the Karo way of life to press on? Are you not afraid to loose your identity?
DD- No. I do not care about it.
J- Do you feel by letting tourists in, you are exploiting the culture of your elders?
DD- We are purposely doing this. In fact it was a decision from some of our elders. All this building was the elders idea to make money. we are saving the money, and once we have enough, we will abandon this place and start a new way of life.
J- In the west there are people that have moved from a tribal culture to what you are striving toward and still feel something is missing. (I explain Native American Indians, their assimilation, and some groups thirst to regroup and perform traditions, such as Pow-Wow.) There are even some movements to get back to a traditional society in which people believe that a tribal lifestyle was closer to happiness.

Then he started to ask me questions about my life. I told him that I respect any decisions he makes as a Karo, because that is a Karo of today so I respect the mindset. I warned him, however, that his mind could have been swayed by the missionaries who wish to put their will upon him and dissolve his culture into theirs. He was very serious with me. It was some heavy news when he told me everything I saw, yes was traditional, but only up-kept as a fabrication at the moment to please tourists so they can split when they have enough. Of course this village is original and traditional, but it is the mindset that has been swayed.

Anteneh told me a long time ago, the tribes really did believe that looking into a camera and having your photograph taken could steal your soul. Perhaps in this case, it's true.

I photograph not a traditionally dressed Karo woman, but Damo Dori himself dressed in his t shirt. The location was a favourite tourist spot overlooking the Omo River.

In Hamer country

Last night we stayed sleeping in a Hamer hut. It is Anteneh's old village and thought it would be a cool idea to "experience the culture first hand." We are not welcomed neither very warmly as tribes are portrayed in movies as nice earthly people, free of worry... nor were we welcomed with a large distaste. We were simply just accepted and in a kind of middle path and watched with curious eyes. They are curious in our white skin, and press down on it in confusion at the changing colors caused by the pressure of their finders. Generally they are nice but still do not hesitate to ask for money for photos. I guess perhaps this is why they might be nice. However, I do not believe this village anywhere near as tainted as the Karo's. Yet we (and much to Antenehs disappointment) found a new German missionary building in their village.

Last night we chose a goat from the tribe, slaughtered it, and ate it after cooking on a fire. It's amazing how first the tribesman skinned the goat and preserved it's meat. I was supposed to slit it's throat but as soon as they held the animal upside down, neck up, it started screaming and I wussied out. I just didn't know how to slice it properly and I didn't want it to suffer in front of all the children watching. Anteneh told me they get really upset and angry when a goat suffers, as they too are part of the tribe. So instead, I just held it's feet from squirming as a tribesman ceremonially slit the neck and slid the knife down the throat. A quick and easy death. Yes, I pussied out but it was much better than Laurent and Heida... who hid in the hut and couldn't watch or even eat the meat from the goat they had recently seen prancing around. We sat there under the stars eating our cooked meat, while the meat we shared with the tribe was eaten raw beside us.

I am sitting in the yard of the hut with a tribal man across from me hanging out. A Hamer woman is showing me how to best preserve the skin for clothing, and we are stretching it out on the ground with stakes to dry in the sun. I have donated my skin to the tribe, I have no use for it in my jeans.

Nov 16th, 2008

The sickness

Yesterday was Ryan's birthday which should have been a time of goodness and celebration but instead I was very ill with cold sweats, delusion and weakness. When we slept at the Hamer village, our driver never came to pick us up. We are all starting to hate Bickey. We were starving so we decided to walk back to Turmi which took about 2 to 2.5 hours. It was in the direct sun and heat so I believe my sickness is sun-stoke or heat exhaustion. I spent the day napping in bed, whining and feeling at an all time low.

This guy who let us stay in his mother Hamer hut has turned out to be one of the biggest annoyances of the trip. (And trust me, there have been a lot of these.) I didn't like him from the beginning and something about his snakelike personality and dual-opinions made me not trust him. We have all gotten in arguments with him over money and I believe he stole my Ipod. I can't find it. I think this because we gave him a "village fee" of 200 birr, a donation of 100 birr for his moms hut and Anteneh gave him 100 birr for helping us. This is a lot of money in Ethiopian standards. First we caught him when he asked us for money, he lied and said Anteneh had not given him anything. Then we went back to the Hamer village to look for my Ipod. We found the elders mad at us because he had told everyone we did not give any money and secretly kept the 400 birr for himself, which was even some of his mothers money. He is now shunned in the tribe and never allowed to bring tourists there again. The elders are now cool with us too and Anteneh, who's job relies on peace with the tribes.

Everything here seems so tainted and money-driven. If the tribes once had a self-sustained free culture, it is now gone in many parts of the Omo. Racial profiling is huge here and I feel it toward me when walking the streets of Turmi. The hamer women that pass you do not say hello or smile, they just say "photo" or "photo, 2 birr" or try to sell you the ethnic clothing from their back. In another light, I can understand how it has progressed to this. And how white people showing up, taking photos, paying, leaving, has fueled this. I feel the tribes hate me, and I can understand why. Years of ignorant ethnic tourism.

Heida accidentally bought the grossest most disgusting thing from the Dimenka market. A guitar made from a tortoise shell. It's so appalling and stupid to buy that we have been laughing about it for the last 5 minutes. Not only did she buy a dead and endangered animal, but inspired also the guy who sold it to her to go kill more to sell to naive white ladies. She swears she didn't know it was a shell, but it's very obvious. All the strings make the same sound - "dunk dunk dunk." Whenever there is silence in the jeep, someone goes "dunk dunk dunk" to piss her off.

Nov 17th 2008

We ran out of Gas in Turmi and had to drive back to Jinka, the only gas available in Turmi is likely watered down. Last night we stayed at the "Jinka resort hotel" as a break from the low places we were staying at, and as a chance for me to recharge everything. It is such a nice place compared to the other places we have stayed however the toilet was messed up and clogged overnight so we argued with the manager for a discount. The rule where I live, the customer is always right does not apply in the Omo or at least not with this manager. He kept arguing and arguing making the same point wasting our time. We won the argument 3 times over I'm sure. I slapped some money on the table, not the full price, but a decent amount and said "here you go. we'll leave now and there's nothing you can fucking do about it!" Not the case in Africa, skinny white Joey! The armed guards locked the gates and there was no where we could go. Shit. I paid, barking revenge and left.

Then we found out there was no gas in Jinka. No gas = no photos.

Nov 19th-21st, 2008

"Fuck tha po-lice"

We drove back to the Mursi on the 18th and down a mysterious road we had not seen before to a point. Then we trekked to a more remote village. When entering Mursi territory, one must take an armed scout with them to make peace and resolve and problems with the tribe. Usually they are a tribesman themselves. Our scout was from this more remote village and said not many tourists have visited. These Mursi were overall nicer but just as pushy as the rest. I understand it, as it is a staple of their warrior culture.

The next day we went back out to visit a Mursi village along the hillside we have been to several times and become close to. Our scout told us that some tourists had gotten robbed by unknown Mursi and the only safe village was the one closest to the police station. We drove there only to find a very unphotogenic village with no one there, the people were away working in the field. I didn't want some stupid tourists who thought it would be smart to camp with Mursi to ruin my day so I asked what is the worst that could happen if we disobeyed the police and went to the village on the hillside regardless.

Of course the police are not like home and both Anteneh and the scout would get in serious trouble if caught and some serious fines or perhaps even some jail time. So I schemed and schemed with Anteneh... The answer is simple and NWA'S Ice Cube would agree- "Fuck tha po-lice." If the police were out in the jungle searching for the Mursi, then they would not be on the main road until nightfall. There is only one road. So we parked the car on the main road with a tire off pretending to change it and took pictures at the village we wanted to, keeping a strong eye on the road. We left at sunset to avoid problems.

Nov 23rd, 2008

I am ready to move on from the Omo. One side of me just wants to be at home sitting on a thrown of Wendy's Spicy Chicken burgers doing lame things like hugging my girlfriend but the other side of me says "screw all that stuff, if you were home doing that, you'd want to come here." And this side is the most true. I think one month in the Omo is plenty of time and I'm glad we didn't decide on a shorter period of time because it wouldn't have been enough. We leave for Arba minch in a few days to stay over night, and move on to Addis Ababa the capital. From here we will fly to the North. I'm very confident in the images I've been getting. This makes me excited for the North because the scenario setting and people are all completely different. The animist tribes in mud huts are instead Orthodox monks living in caves.

I go through periods where I miss home and the comforts there. (This is usually when I'm sitting in the jeep on the long bumpy rides with nothing to do but think.) It distracts me from the trip. I've tried to travel but sometimes my mind doesn't go anywhere and hasn't travelled at all when I'm caught up in these thoughts but getting better at forgetting them.

Dec 2nd, 2008

Off to the North

The past days were spent in Addis Ababa gathering supplies, eating decent food and smoking hookah, a very popular thing to do here I guess in the city. We went "clubbing" too which was dancing stupidly in a tiny room with ridiculous music playing. "CHUM BAH LA LA." In fact now that I think of it it's no different from clubbing at home, except for the fact that I'm not a clubbing kind of guy at home, in fact I despise it. We did this for several hours and I noticed many of the girls were dressed very slutty. In my home country this would be normal but here I had to ask "hey, Anteneh... How many of these girls do you suppose are prostitutes?" He paused, darted his eyes, raised his finger and said plainly "...all of them." Time to go, no wonder they were so interested in me.

When we got home from this night of "extreme clubbing" we stumbled back to our hotel room to hear the sound of running water. Hmmm I thought. The water had been off earlier and we were playing with the knobs trying to fix it. The water had come on at some point during the night! "Oh shit! look!" said Ryan, pointing to the door. Water was gushing out the bottom. We found about 10-15 cm of water on the ground contaminating my batteries on the floor and my Macbook. We unplugged everything and swooshed most of it out the door and went to bed. Then in the morning a miracle happened, nothing was broken.

Another supply we had to take care of was Anteneh's annoying german lady friend. She wanted a relationship and Anteneh wants other things. She and her group of German friends are incredibly boring, stuck up and never have anything interesting to say. Me and Ryan love talking bad about them to burst our ego. Anteneh asked for advice and Ryan's was "just say she's your girlfriend so you can keep screwing her." And mine was more humbled and bull-shitty but practical... Say "I can't give you what you deserve." Pure cheese such girls as this eat up. So we went out to dinner with them at 'Champions' a split Arabic/American sports restaurant (what the feuk?) and after left Anteneh alone to spill the news. We found this hilarious, after i asked "So, did she cry?" Anteneh answered simply "No, instead of cry, she prefer making out..." I said "No dude, you just screwed up big time."

...contin

Joey L in Ethiopia - The North 2/2

Tue, 03 Feb 2009 00:00:00 -0500

Dec 8th

Lalibela

The past week has been spent in Lalibela. Today was a relatively good day, in fact so good that it almost seems as if something is wrong because of the troubles of the early week.... My soft box has stirred quite the controversy in this small "holy" place. The main 'priests' at the tourist office wanted $1000 birr to enter the church complex. This is to go straight into their pockets, I'm sure. There are no rules about this equipment, and they wish to rip me off. I refuse to pay this, not because I don't have it, or I'm cheap, but because I'm taking a hit for all future photographers who wish to shoot there... No God damned way I say in this place of worship. We got the police, complained, and demonstrated the equipment to the main tourist office whom of which had no problem with the soft-box and wished us well for bringing it and promoting tourism in the area. They phoned the priests at the ticket office and still they refused to listen to their superiors, or the police. That's how this country goes. The police are more like crossing guards. So we've been sneaking into the church complex, getting kicked out, returning, arguing, bribing, etc. Our luck has been much better outside Lalibela in the remote rock churches. Here, the priests and monks are generally cooler, not money-driven and more easy going. They are happy to see us.

Above image- Lalibela's armed guards finally discovery my "entry ticket" is really just a potato chip receipt.

Yemrehanna Kristos church

Joey- "This is kinda like Indiana Jones, isn't it?"
Ryan "This is probably one of the weirdest things I've ever seen in my life"

Today at Yemrehanna Kristos church, I photographed a monk surrounded in corpses. He explained to me they were pilgrims, mostly from Jerusalem. There were over 10 000 skeletons at one point, but now it is hard to say since they have been decaying over the years. Whatever the debated number, I can describe it only as wading out with my camera into a sea of skeletons. I tried my best to be respectful and not go into the parts the monk warned me not to, staying on wooden boards and tombs... but every once in awhile I would hear the crunch of a bone under the pressure of my weight, or feel my hand brush against the smoothness of a human skull. The monk was very patient with me, and I feel I captured a moment in time I never thought I'd see in my life.

I am assulted by fleas every night and despite my efforts with the flea spray, I still get quite a few bites.

Abuna Aron

We trekked to a place I heard about by word of mouth and was not in any guidebooks. It is called Abuna Aron, and is known to be a remote cave church lived in by three monks. The most notable point about the church is that it has a mysterious beam of light which shines down for a few minutes a day only. It is located in the roof of the cave and allows light in, but yet no rain water ever leaks in. The local villagers see it as an extremely holy place for this reason, and worship there. It was extremely difficult to reach. We drove many hours from Lalibela to the nearest spot we could then walked across 2 mountains and a valley (with all the equipment) and made it to the church. With my luck, the light beam was shining at it's strongest point and we had about thirty minutes to shoot there. I shot a shot a real young deacon there, who was extremely interesting and got along with very well.

Dec 10th

Debre Damo

Today we had a great day shooting at Debre Damo. It is located up a cliff face in which you must climb up a 17 meter rope being pulled on a cow hide rope by a monk. Every year at least someone dies, says Anteneh. This year, it wasn't me. The monks were totally chill and I got some great photos outside the church on the cliff face. No women are allowed, not even female goats or cows. The funniest part of the day was when Ryan asked "wait... how do they get all these cows up here?" Anteneh said "rope" We didn't believe him so a visiting priest (not a monk, obviously) showed up a cell phone video of a cow being hoisted up by rope. Hilarious. I love Debre Damo, I would very much enjoy to visit again.

Dec 11th

Abuna Yemata Guh

Visiting the rock church Abuna Yemata Guh is one of those experiences I will never forget. It was probably the most grueling climb out of all the Monk's homes we have visited. There were no ropes to help us up like Debre Damo, and 90 degree rock walls several meters high to climb with only small toe-holds to hold onto. As you can imagine after a climb like this, the reward is once you finish. An other-worldy view of two enormous cliffs to both our right and left, surrounding us. When I see things like this, I always know I will never be able to capture their awe in pictures or film, so I always make a point to sit down and soak it in greedily for myself.

You know it's really different here in the North. Instead of having too many subjects in a general area, you have very little subjects you must find yourself. It's like the ancient Chinese legends of climbing a mountain to find a wise man, except you have to do it with pounds and pounds of equipment. Some times you climb these huge cliffs for hours to find a little wee man living in a cave, humbled to see you.

"Hey Joey, you know how in movies when they show a desert, they always insert that hawk screech sound. Yeah, well I just heard that but for real," says Ryan. The hawks swoop past our head.

"Hey Joey, I found some skulls down here! Check it out" Screams Ryan from the other side.

The wind picks up, I hop over a ledge and admire the remains of pilgrims and holy men who have visited the site years before me. Perhaps one day when I'm fed up with the industry, tired and weathered I will come back here an old man. It will take me even longer to get up the rock face, but I will eventually make it. I will sit in the same spot I did when I was 19 years old. Perhaps I won't ever come down, and my skull too will rest there.

Dec 15th

Abba Yohannis

Today the realization came to me that I would be taking no more photos on this trip. We finished the last day of shooting at Abba Yohannis, a monks church located halfway up a mountain. Our driver had said "but why do you want to visit Abba Yohannis, not many people are going there..." That's exactly why I want to visit Abba Yohannis! I thought the place was spectacular and photogenic. We gave the monk a ride into town in our minibus after the photo shoot so he can visit the market. I interview him in the vehicle and probe him with questions about his life. On the way we pass an old tank frozen in time from an Ethiopian war.

After we drove right back to Aksum to catch out plane into Addis Ababa. Then we killed some time being jerks, and here I am on the plane now. My writing is messy because we are taking off.

Dec 17th, 2008

Epilogue by Ryan

As the trip is coming quickly to an end (5 days left) and the countdown until we are home gets smaller and smaller, I notice myself making a conscious effort each day to try and "take it all in" as much as I can. I notice the new things/ways of life that Joey and I love started to grow accustom to. Things that a month ago would have been something to quiver or laugh over and now it's just an every day to day experience. It's funny to say but we both agree we will probably have much more culture shock returning home than living here in Ethiopia. I can't get over how used to being stuck in "traffic" I am now due to a herd of cattle, a group of monkeys or a gathering of nomads rather than a 30 car pile up or road construction. Even the small every day things like bathing and using the toilet will be a shock to our systems upon arriving home. I mean, no more washing in a river with the Mursi tribe? Or hopping out of the car on the road hoping to find a nice bush to shit behind? Although the comforts of home will be an easy, welcome change they will be quite a shock im sure.

- Ryan

Dec 17th, 2008

We board the plane and say goodbye to Anteneh. I tell him I will miss him, and I mean it. Everything is surreal as our little taxi heads to the airport down the same streets we feared when we first drove down them almost 2 months ago. Now they are like home and we've grown used to the sights, it will be our home that shocks us now.

Our plane stops over in Amsterdam at 5:30am in the morning, we have an 8 hour stop over but it's not spent in the airport. It's not spent smoking dope or getting with Red Light District women either, we meet our good friend Will (you might recognize him from the Moldova blog post). God answers my prayers and we find a Mcdonald's and wait patiently for it to open...

The food tastes so good in my mouth, but it isn't as great as I thought it would be. For a moment the craving was satisfied, but then another something inside me changed and grew unsatisfied... This was much deeper and more powerful than a fast food craving. I realized I would be taking no more pictures, and the trip was over. I'd rather have a bowl of rice in Ethiopia over this shit food any day.

Pleasantly yours,

Joey L **..**

I will sue the ink out of your skin

Sat, 31 Jan 2009 16:12:10 -0500

Thanks to Ian Ferris for sending me this tattoo artist's link. Before the shot was inked onto some guys arm for life, it was from a photoshoot I did with Protest the Hero, a great metal band from Canada.

Final touches of the Ethiopia pictures are almost done, and I will launch them all in a few days.
**..**

Dropping off the face of the earth

Sat, 03 Jan 2009 00:00:00 -0500

Ethiopia

As you can see the GPS on my site indicates I am back home from Africa and curled up in a blanket trying to breathe the cold air in Canada.

I took home a 500 gig hard drive full of gold. I have a journal full of names, notes, stories, beliefs. I have a stomach full of Mcdonald's, because I ate nothing but rice and porridge for a month while in the bush of the Omo Valley in Ethiopia. I'll never try to be 'extreme' or 'grass roots' living in a hut, I lay on my back every night thinking about sinking my teeth into some greesy fast food.

I spent two months in the country in total (I was in the North of the country adding to my Holy Men series after finishing in the tribal area). I made it home right before Christmas to my family in Ontario, Canada.

I will be releasing all the tribal photographs at once in a series with words, behind the scenes images and video. I think it's my best work yet... I have put more thought, effort, stress, blood (and money!) into getting these images than anything else I've done. What matters is all that is over, and I have a pile of images with me now. The struggle is temporary but the pictures are around forever. (Or until my hard drive crashes... but it is all backed up several times over...)

Wish I could share the images as they come, but I feel this story is too special for that and needs to be released all at once in order to make sense.

I have to thank too many people, but I think the most would be my friend/ assistant Ryan. He literally got lost in jungles, climbed mountains, fought off tribal warriors, and ate the same disgusting food I did, except he was holding my big stupid light on a stick the whole time.

On some other notes-

Twilight

Thanks everyone for sending in their Twilight pictures. I missed to majority of my advertisements up on the street while living in the bush.

And special props to Cory Smith and Zach Hodges who went all out to make these tributes!!

Benjamin Bates- Forever Running

While I was away, Benjamin released his newest single Forever Running. I put a behind the scenes video online before I left, (check out the earlier blog post for more info). But now the real video is online and on television. If you live in Europe request the video on TMF! Check it out on youtube below. **..**

What does Africa and Twilight the movie have in common?

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 00:00:00 -0400

Well, they both happen at once. (Above... Yellow fever / Typhoid / Polio shot in one sitting.)

I am about to hop on a 21 hour flight over to Ethiopia... I've been waiting for this trip for too long. I'll be gone for almost 2 months and come back home just before Christmas. During my visit I'll be renting a jeep and traveling thru the Lower Omo Valley, where tribal populations that still live nomadic lifestyles are so diverse that this region is considered the true "cradle of humanity."

Body scarification, enormous lip piercings, and red mud from the earth adorn the bodies of the Mursi, Surma, Karo, and other tribes. The root of the tribes beauty, however, lies within their connection to the land... A connection to nature which I believe is quickly being lost in the Western world, and I fear they may only survive in the future as distant fables in photographs.

After one month of camping in the Omo with no internet connection and absolutely no Mcdonald's, I will travel north to catch the Festival of Mary Zion in Ethiopia's holiest city- Aksum. I'll photograph the sea of pilgrims receiving the blessings of Orthodox monks guarding the believed Ark of the Covenant. The next leg of the journey will bring me to the lowest point on Earth below sea level, the Danakil Depression... An arid desert vaguely described as resembling the planet Venus. The last arc of the journey is in Lalibela, another holy city full of ancient churches cut into rock caves and mountainsides.

You can follow along on the new GPS menu feature on joeyL.com or just look for updates here...

Of course being gone so long I'll have to wait on the release of Twilight back home. Twilight is coming to theatres Nov 21st and I'll miss seeing a lot of my advertisements everywhere. I did all of the stills for the movie posters and promo material. (For those asking about the post-processing... it was done by the Cimarron Group out of LA. They art directed all the promo material for Twilight, including the website and upcoming DVD). Some of the main stuff is out in public but of course there's a lot more material waiting to be released!

Too bad I'll be in one of the most remote regions on the planet and miss it, right?

...

Pfffft. I remain more than content!

While shopping for stuff for my trip to Africa like bug nets, shower-in-a-bag, extra undies, and a compass, I came across the Twilight stuff everywhere... If anyone runs into some big billboards on the streets hook me up with some snapshots!

Send to- joey@joeyL.com
You know I will appreciate it!

Oh, and count how many times I can say "like" on MTV in less than 2 minutes.

**..**

Forbes Cover -Metalico

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 00:00:00 -0400

Check out this month's cover of Forbes by yours truly.

And here's an unedited one that didn't make the magazine-

**..**

Behind the scenes: Forever Running video, Benjamin Bates

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 03:39:15 -0400

Well, here's one way to spend thousands of dollars... (actual video coming soon)

I have been working with Benjamin Bates on every visual aspect of his new album Recyclomania, from the CD cover to this new video for his single "Forever Running." It seems that our projects started out simple, and just get slightly more ridiculous and complicated each time. I consider my first ever photoshoot with Benjamin quite innocent- it was done with all natural light and reflectors in Amsterdam... Simple. Then we stepped it up the "Two Flies" video we shot in an abandoned military hospital in Belgium, smeared Benjamin with paint and filmed the entire thing in fast motion... Difficult. Then finally we come to this last project- "Well how about a tiger running through the desert chasing a girl"... What?

Of course you can believe we have become excellent friends in the process of all these things.

I am so happy about how the video turned out, and it is being processed for rotation on television right now. When everything is ready to go, I'll make another post with the video. Until then, check out this behind the scenes video. We couldn't have done it without a long list of people, but one of the most notable my good friend Haakon. (the cinematographer for the music video.)

Joey L **..**

Tahnea

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 00:00:00 -0400

I met Tahnea on the streets of Toronto. It's no wonder she caught my eye, so I wanted to learn more about her. I was fortunate enough to take some portraits too, you can view those on my website under "Street." Tahnea travels across Canada (originally from Montreal) by hopping freight trains, hitching hiking, and by foot. After she is done traveling and settles down, she will study natural medicine. She told me the most beautiful thing she has ever seen is her dog.

The tribal tattoos on her forehead where done by her ex boyfriend. She designed them herself but later found a very similar design on an ethnic tribal woman from another country in a book. She believes it was fate or perhaps divine inspiration that made the design so similar.

J- What do you believe in?

T- My beliefs are in kindness, respect and humility. If you search for that, you get the answer.

J- What's the most interesting thing that has happened to you on your travels?

T- A crazy guy picked me up hitchhiking. He was drinking and pulled a gun on me, but I got out of it by joking around. He even put the gun to my head.

J- Did you get out?

T- No, we stayed with him! He turned out alright. He got us a motel room and brought us to San Fransisco. I woke up and he was touching me. I still remember his name.

J- What was it?

T- His name was Sam

JL

**..**

The Jonas Brothers

Thu, 18 Sep 2008 00:00:00 -0400

The Jonas Brothers are very very chill. (behind the scenes photos by Jim Larer.)

Joey L

**..**

Digital SLR Photography

Thu, 11 Sep 2008 00:00:00 -0400

Be sure to check out Digital SLR magazine, prepare to be shocked, and learn how family portraits are made easy!

Oh, check out my article too.

L

**..**

Boracay- A sneak peek

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 00:00:00 -0400

Last night I was driving and hit a deer. No was hurt in the vehicle. The official police report reads-

"I (Joey lawrence) was driving home from Wasaga Beach along the highway at 10:15pm wwith another passenger, Sarena Favaro. The road was dark. We saw one deer cross the road ahead and exclaimed "good thing we didn't hit that," then suddenly, it's dear friend who was hidden in the bushes jumped in front of the vehicle before I had time to react"
I am sick.

Not "sick" in the sense that young people use to today, as in the "wow that is some sickass dope shit" that is actually showing positive affection... I mean sick as in "you just made a joke about a deer you just murdered on a police report."

It was just one of those things I couldn't control. For once I was doing the speed-limit. I was paying attention, the music wasn't too loud, and I wasn't trying to crack my toes while driving. (I'm addicted to cracking my joints and stretching.) I am actually a responsible driver, I just had no time to react and I suppose it was nature's will and time for our friend to go. It was a beautiful animal.

In other news I got an e-mail from my workshop coordinator Bobby Wong with some pictures from Boracay, which one of the places in the Philippines in which me and Manuel Librodo will be teaching. I'm really excited because aside from teaching and teaching people everything I know (even my earthly vices. sorry, you will be around me too long), I'm really looking forward to lying on that one beach after the workshop and relaxing before my trip to Africa. That will be grueling and intense, with the majority of it camping in a tent off the side of the rental jeep and eating out of a can of beans. I am very happy to do this, however. This is the best way to travel.

The majority of the workshop action will go down in Boracay since it is also a nice place to relax and full of subjects, but we will be shooting in remote fishing villiages as well. We are still looking for more participants so check out the mini-site here to register if you are interested.

http://www.joeyL.com/lawrencelibrodo

the Deer Hunter

**..**

G-Unit

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 21:58:14 -0400

I was very happy with the simple concept that the magazine thought of... No street gangster stuff- business men.
As much as G-unit are extremely successful gangster rappers and one of the biggest rap acts out there right now, they got there because above the music they are also talented business men. 50 Cent the Vitamin Water, 50 Cent the video game, 50 Cent the movie, 50 Cent the ___... It goes on and on. It doesn't matter what public image these guys portray- they are talented marketing gurus, rich as hell and Straight Outta 'Southside. (Oh, and millions of people listen to their music.) So before you think of dissin the G's, they have already schooled you in every way possible!!

The best picture from this shoot was not the posh group picture sitting around the caviar or the stern shots of 50 looking badass, it is the snapshot of 50 cent stabbing me in the neck with a butterknife. (while representin my home city Toronto.)

keep it real.

J-unit

**..**

Philippines Workshop with Manuel Librodo

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 14:07:57 -0400

(Photo by Manny. I haven't been to Boracay yet!)

Join me and the famous Manuel Librodo for a 5 day photographic workshop. It is October 19-24th ,2008 on the sandy white beaches of Boracay, the Philippines and beyond in remote fishing villages less dependent on Western influence.

The Safari will have lessons in shooting style, lighting and Photoshop from both me and Manny, but the vibe of the workshop will be interactive and personal. We are keeping groups small and are looking for only 12-14 participants.

Boracay is very tourist oriented and a friendly environment to learn, while beyond in the remote fishing villages are more of a challenge. The Philippines is composed of over 7,100 islands with countless small fishing communities living along its coasts. Packed tightly together in shanties that dot the shoreline, fishermen and their families rely solely on the sea to feed their families. Walking into a remote fishing village is like slipping into a place forgotten by time, where a day in the office means catching the fish their families need to eat that night.

1/3 of the workshop's profits will be going to charity.

For all the details and info on registration, go to the mini site-

http://www.joeyl.com/lawrencelibrodo

All the details are on that mini-site. Check it out.
**..**

I.O.U.J.O.E.Y.L

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 13:01:26 -0400

Answering machine message- http://www.joeyl.com/jedsmessageiousa.wav
(The voice of Jed Taufer, VGallery.)

Thanks to everyone who has been e-mailing me after seeing a photo of mine appear in the new trailer for the movie "I.O.U.S.A". There is breif flash after footage from the movie and a still image of a homeless man is shown.

I would not normally make a blog post about it because the matter is quite personal, however I want people to know that I have never licensed the use of my homeless series. (For obvious reasons.) I want everyone to know this because I do not want to appear as an exploiter. The images are only for study on my website and other portfolios. The series is a personal look on homelessness in Toronto as a subculture. This is a person who agreed with photographs only for personal work... Not a model to represent poverty in America commercially.

As you can imagine, the trailer company is in some serious trouble.

Yes, it is my image and yes I was in control of the light, processing, ect but I do not feel right about it. Therefore I am most likely going to put compensation toward something good...

Aside from being quite steamed about the photo, the actual movie looks awesome... I admit I am not a political genius but I am very interested in these kinds of films because of the questions they raise.

Let's phase-shift now that my serious note is over. In other news...

I'M EGO-TRIPPING BALLS

Check out my article in the newest edition of Rangefinder Magazine.
And I also did a voice interview for the Rangefinder Radio.

Me me me me me me me me! In order to undue the damages done to my ego and the inflation-of, I have condemned myself to read Eckhart Tolle's "A New Earth" ten more times (I've read it once and listened to the audiobook) to absorb my ego and cure the universal pain-body which resides within me.

**..**

Never Take Tea With an Aghori

Mon, 21 Jul 2008 00:42:45 -0400

On my first trip to India I knew little about sadhus- acestic Hindu holy men. The great fathers are on a personal mission to discover God and peace. They wish to break their perceived infinite cycle of birth and death through ancient rituals such as yoga, pilgrimages and meditation. Soon, I became fascinated with their way of life and had to learn more on my second trip to the country.

There is another sect of sadhu, often ridiculed and detested by the other sadhus. They are the Aghori's, who's path to God, peace and insight of the world is gained through extremes and opposites. Aghori sadhus make contact with the dead, meditate on corpses, drink from a human skull and even eat the flesh of the dead all in the name of God. As I've come to understand it, there is no clean and unclean, no pure and unpure. The world's taboos are an illusion which must be overseen. Although they are known to eat human flesh, it does not mean they are murders. It usually comes from already dead bodies, which are numerous along the banks of the Ganges due to the custom funeral ceremonies. I witnessed a number of dead bodies in the river alone on my trip to Benares. Wikipedia states

"The Aghoris of northern India consume the flesh of the dead floated in the Ganges in pursuit of immortality and supernatural powers. Members of the Aghori drink from human skulls and practice cannibalism in the belief that eating human flesh confers spiritual and physical benefits, such as prevention of aging" http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cannibalism

It is also worth mentioning that cannibalism is only a bizarre concept in today's world, it is actually at the roots of many of our ancestors and ancient religious groups. It's very difficult for me to explain without someone thinking I have some wee children limbs locked in my freezer, so if you are interested in this kind of thing pick up Dinner with a Cannibal by Carole A. Travis-Henikoff.

It's a very easy read but also very helpful about understand what role cannibalism has in today's cultures. Do you take the body and blood of Christ? Amen.

My personal opinion is that the Aghori is living in a completely different world than my own, his mind has been molded to perceive something I have not been raised to accept. I do not feel the practice is wrong.

It took a week or so to track an Aghori sadhu in Benares through word of mouth from the villagers with my translator. There was me and my two great friends Laurent from Paris and Heida from Iceland. We met the Baba (father) for the first time on a riser above a cremation ground, where most Aghori's chose to live so they have a constant connection with the dead. Sitting across from him keeping my eyes fixed on his body language, I explained to him through my translator that I was on a mission to photograph holy men of various creeds all around the world. The mood was tense and seemed very business-oriented.

"I wish to photograph you if it is true that you are an Aghori"
"Yes"
"Can you prove to me that you are what you say you are?"
"Yes. I have a man's skull right here in my bag. Don't you trust me?"

He was serious. We arranged the session to take place at night, away from any villagers or tourists who might overlook the ritual. He agreed but instructed us to gather candles before nightfall to bring with us. I knew this light would be the only light available, and was crucial to my photographs. We arranged a man with a small row boat to take us across the Ganges to the other side toward an abandoned, sandy beach area which is completely flooded during the monsoon season. I asked Baba some questions and found out as much as I could about his past life. He had been an aghori since he was a young child and studied under a guru for many years before leaving on his own path of wandering India from cremation ground to cremation ground. He had taken on a few deciples of his own now, one of which came with us in the boat and spoke broken english, but it was understandable at times.

I was very interested in the practise of "penis yoga", in which the penis was forced and stretched around a metal shear several times to stretch the nerve endings so that there would be no temptation of breaking an ascetic life. He told me that when he was younger he did have his way with a few young girls, but he will not say a word of it anymore so close to his mother, the River Ganges. Usually I can dig into a person and really make them feel comfortable around me, but I had a very hard time with this man. There was an eerie atmosphere in the air and not even chatter between me and my other traveling friends seemed to break it. He was a very tiny man, but very intimidating. The way he barked orders through rotting teeth at his deciples displayed a real power and authority in his character. Completely naked from head to toe, except the ashes of the dead spread evenly across his body, he seemed immortal and sinister.

We reached the beach on the other side of the Ganges, and I instructed the boatman to come back in two hours. He was confused but desperate for work, so he did as I wished and left me on the bank with the Aghori Sadhu. Trapping yourself on an abandoned island with a cannibal? Priceless. I would either come out with some decent pictures and a war story to tell my grandkids or as a sacrafice to Shiva in baba's stomach.

I was worried that the candles I had gotten were not good enough- they were factory made and I thought that in some way the sadhu might detest this and refuse any pictures. However, he was very serious about everything. He would not let me or the other two friends enter the circle of fire we created with my shoes- even when his eyes were closed in meditation. I guess it didn't matter.

The light was very hard to work with, and most of my images came out blurry due to the lack of light, but I did manage to get a select few images. After some time, the sadhu began the penis yoga. It looked very painful to me, but he did not show a wince of frusteration as he coiled it several times around the metal stake. A snake constricting it's prey. Looking through the lense I had a few "what the fuck am I doing?" moments in my head but my thirst for knowledge and experience took control.

I found myself not eaten and in a very good mood when the boatman arrived perfectly on time. We headed back to the other side of the river. Coming out of the boat, Baba asked quietly something to my translator. It was not put back in english to me, so I knew right away it was about money. A holy man begging or asking for money in the first world is extremely taboo, but one must understand this is how a sadhu supports himself- through charity. I agreed to give him an amount for his time, as well as some coins from Canada. However, I refused to give him a large amount of money as this would hurt him more than help. I do like to pay people for their time but do not like to bribe for photo opportunities. The baba took his gaze off my translator and looked me straight in the eye, growled and paced away angrily before taking any money. It didn't take much to set him off. I followed him to the spot where I first negotiated with him.

"You have broken your trust, englishman"
"I said you can take the money, it is for your time"

...

A pause, and shift in his manner.

"Will you join me for tea tonight in a few hours?"
"I will return here to meet you, yes"
"For chai?"
"Yes, I'll think about it"

Walking back along the gachts that night, certain things entered my brain. I sensed something was very wrong and decided not to visit him again. The next morning I retraced my steps and walked past the cremation ground. I saw a familiar face, the deciple of Baba's that spoke broken english.

"Hey you no come for chai last night"
"I had some things I had to take care of"
"well can I tell you it is good thing you not come again. Baba Ji has make for you.. euuhh how you say? posen"
"Poison?"
"Yes, poison."

I can never be sure as to whether or not the man was telling the truth, or just trying to scare me. I did not feel any intentions that harsh. I could be wrong. Of course the "poison" could have been refering to something else, such as alcohol, marijuana, or hashish, as Aghori's are known to ingest in all of these regularily. Nevertheless, I trust my instinct and believe it is true when the villiagers say "never take tea with an aghori."

Joey L

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