Blog # 3

As you know, I was born in Cuba. My grandmother, grandfather, 6 aunts, 6 cousins, older sister and nephew all still live in Cuba. Although the embargo hasn't been "temporarily" lifted or at all, the amount of money and family aid that exiled Cubans are allowed to send has increased greatly due to Hurricane Ike. When I see pictures such as the ones in this post, I ask myself how we are capable of complaining, especially when some of us might have a house with six rooms and we only need 3, or a car with four doors when a bicyle would be sufficient to get through our daily activities. I think that we have grown up so used to seeking comfort in every way possible, that our "necessities" have been brought up to things like a phone that you touch and don't even have to think about, rather than something like, oh I don't know...FOOD. I think that the photographer has alot to do with evoking a certain feeling, but in situations as disastrous as Ike's toll on these poor countries, there doesn't need to be any photographic technique to shock or evoke a feeling. The situation speaks for itself.

In the summer of 2006, I visited 5 different cities in the country of Morocco. Although its economy is considered to be growing at a rapid pace (compared to other countries in Africa,) many of the people in Morocco live in devastating conditions and 19% of Morocco's people live below the poverty line. When I was in the city of Fes, I visited the medina. The medina is an immense medieval marketplace where people sell all kinds of typical foods, jewelry, furniture and even animals. As I walked down the medina (which was only lit by the sun penetrating through the branches that wrapped themselves around pergolas overhead,) a boy of about 7 or 8 came up to me and asked something in arabic, while showing me some bracelets. I looked at him a bit confused and before I could say I spoke English he asked again, the same thing I presume, but in Italian. Still I gave him a puzzled look, so he looked back at me, very determined and said, "Deseas comprar una pulsera," before I could answer, he quickly responded to his own question with another, this time in English,"Would you like to buy a bracelet, only 8 dirhams." I smiled and asked how many languages he spoke and he replied eight. I bought two of the silver bracelets, giving him 16 dirhams, the equivalent of two dollars. The point of this story is this: coming from the United States, where most kids 7 or 8 are still in Elementary school, I was so surprised that someone so young was out on the street, doing what he had to do and learning what he had to learn in order to sell things to tourists. I realized that it was not work ethic that drives people to do these things, but the principles of necessity.

{Part fo the medina where leather is dyed with bird excrement and pigments}

Every day I thank god for everything I have, and simultaneously wonder why I have everything while others struggle to have anything at all. I have, on my favorites on my computer a link called "thehungersite.com." On this website all you do is sign up and when you click, they display an ad from a sponsor, the money that the sponsors pay goes directly to charity,(whichever you click for, theres animal rescue, hunger, breast cancer etc.) I click twice a day, it only takes a second and I also have links on my myspace, so that anyone that visits it can also click. I feel like I'm doing my part to help people less fortunate than me, but its such a small part and I would like to be more proactive rather than click from my comfort zone. But if you're the kind of person who doesn't care enough to actually do something, click for hunger is a pretty good option. I feel a little bit helpless trying to change things, especially since I have never seen my "charitable acts" (if you can call them that,) directly affect anyone. I feel like for every person in the world who cares about these issues, there are 49 others who either aren't educated or don't give a damn.