That’s a wrap… for now
April 16th, 2006
It’s official. Our overseas location shoot is complete! Matt gave the nod on 13 April that we had the footage we needed in Thailand: time to put the cameras and other equipment down.
We will enjoy our last few days in Asia, and look forward to seeing friends and family at home before we buckle down to finish our final scenes in Alberta and tackle post-production too.
To our friends in Alberta, keep your eye out for the E for E crew, they are coming soon to city near you.
– ak
Khao Lak
April 14th, 2006
Thank you Doug, Shirley,
Christy, Erica, Donna,
Bum, and Chaim.
We had a great time with you. We’ll see most of you in Red Deer again soon!
A school and three scenes
April 10th, 2006
At 9:30 AM, the six members of the E crew joined our translator who also acted as driver and three Canadian friends in a van. Donna, Erica, and Christy were taking us to the school they have been teaching English at for three weeks. The school is made up of about fifteen Burmese and Thai students.
Along the half hour ride we easily fit another translator/teacher and three school children. As always, the children delighted us with their smiles and rehearsed but quality English greetings. Donna, Erica, and Christy led the children in songs of “The Lord’s Army,” “Bananas,” and “The Hokey Pokey,” taking the kids to a broader understanding of the English language and their world, while the rest of us revisited elementary memories and lost rhythm and coordination.
We broke for lunch not long after what I call breaking into vicious sweating. We enjoyed fried rice and some fresh fruit: lunch for about a dollar a person. After lunch we made our way to a jungle path, the location where we filmed some of our final oversea scenes.
Burmese children who volunteered as extras distracted Steve who was filming an interview, but it all worked out well in the end. A couple of important scenes played out nicely with beautiful green foliage on all sides, the sun appearing in and out of clouds and light sprinklings of rain. The drive home was quiet as we came into a heavier downpour and the realization that our cameras will not roll for many more hours overseas.
With three days of shooting remaining in Thailand, you might say our crew is happy, relieved and excited to complete overseas photography for E for Everyone. It is hard to believe three months have come and gone, and encouraging to have seventy hours of tape to show for it. While the project as a journey is certainly not over yet, one large part will be completed very soon.
But first, some supper.
– dk
bus to bush
April 7th, 2006
Another day another 12 hour bus ride. Following our time in Chiang Mai, the entire crew (Dan included) took the journey south from Northern Thailand back to Bangkok. With very few stops, and even less A/C, we arrived in the early morning ready for a nap. I can recall one word that Stephen used to describe his ‘condition’ following the trip: gross. We were delighted to make our way to the airport hours later and take an afternoon flight to Phuket.
With hundreds of resorts lining the coast, it was relatively easy to find a place to stay and a very easy way of life met us on the beach. We stayed in Phuket for 3 nights and managed to complete the second last scripted scene for the trip at a beautiful and simple resort called Kamala CoCo Huts. Mon, a great Thai guy managing the resort, and the awesome location made it tough for us to leave – Mon subjected us all to the wonderfully choreographed Thai film ‘Tom Yum Goong’ starring Tony Ja minutes before we were to leave. Needless to say, we stayed and watched and enjoyed the action film to the point of promising to purchase it…perhaps we can all watch it together sometime.
We left the CoCo Huts in the early afternoon, packed into a small pickup truck – 3 in the cab, 3 in the box with all the gear headed for the last stop on our itinerary as a film crew. Although my personal preference was in fact to ride in the box, I believe I may have not quite understood what I was signing up for.
All seemed good and well until about 30 minutes into the trip when the comfortable setup we had arranged began to give way behind us as the tailgate neglected its all important role. Shrieking and frantic and sprawling, Andrew, Steve and I, respectively, managed to avert disaster in a controlled panic as the truck came to a stop and allowed us time to rearrange the gear and ourselves in a much more uncomfortable situation. Safer, however, our numb bums and a little sunburn met us 70km down the road in the quiet and picturesque area of Khao Lak.
Here we have began filming and are looking forward to completing the task before us in Thailand.
– mjko
Jungle Trek in Chaing Mai
April 3rd, 2006
Our trek in to the jungles of northern Thailand began in the picturesque city of Chiang Mai. Our guide, Ting, picked us up at our hotel and we loaded the back of his pick-up truck with bodies and gear before rolling out of town. We stopped at a roadside market so Ting could buy food for the journey. Waiting in the sunlight, we were surrounded by other eager foreigners, waiting for their guides to come back and whisk them into the wilderness. Backpackers seem to come in two distinct physiognomies: the tall, skin-stretched lanky hippies who look like they only eat tofu and yogurt at the best of times, hair matted into status-symbol dreadlocks or held back with a bandana; and the party animals, dressed for the club and the jungle at the same time, combining spaghetti-strap tanks and short shorts with running shoes, male and female alike having bubbles of extra flesh nudging past garments to reveal a propensity toward liquid fun.
We enjoyed breathing in the moist, foggy air on our way out to the starting point. The cool mist clung to our skin kindly, and we all felt like we were in paradise. The rolling hills, carpeted in pine and palm trees, receded back into the fog in layers, turning from green to hazy blue to dull grey.
As we walked through the forest, dry brown leaves and red fallen pine needles crunched beneath our feet, while cicadas raged like industrial table saws buzzing violently all around us. The trail wound through some fairly barren areas, down to a beautiful little waterfall, where we promptly created a shot that would incorporate it into the story. The final climb up to our first village was a short, steep stretch that left us huffing, puffing, and soaked with sweat. We slept in a bamboo house built about eight feet off the ground, with a veranda that sported a fireplace in the middle and a picnic table off to one side. We spent a few hours just staring into the fire, barely talking, just enjoying the relative quiet, the feel of cool air carrying the heat from our skin, the sweet smell of smoke rising into darkness.
The next day we walked to another waterfall, even better than the first, and finally to the “elephant area” to go for a ride. I just love elephants: their soft yet inpenetrable skin; their empathetic eyes; their playful demeanor; and those incredible trunks, an engineering marvel if ever I’ve seen one. Joel and I even got to ride one bare-back: a scary experience, though more intimate. I fell like we really got to know our elephant, or at least his spine and shoulder blades. And of course, I was once again awed by both the immensity of their genetalia and the magnitude of their excratory functions.
We returned to the hotel exhausted, but happy to have one more leg of the journey behind us. The last thing Dan shot was Joel and I sitting at the back of the truck, with those lush hills retreating into the mist behind us.
-srn
Travel Woes
April 3rd, 2006
Today was not the best day in E for E history. In the morning Dan, Steve and Joe went with Lak Hee into town to do some shooting. There is only room for four in a given taxi, so the heirarchy was put into place, and the least important three had to stay back. Just kidding – back at the YWAM Guesthouse the “intellectual three”
(as we’ve dubbed ourselves) planned the rest of our trip – so we really know who the “important people” are.
Anyway, while in town Dan either lost or had his passport stolen. It was there one moment, and gone the next. So our team split up again and Dan went with Lak Hee to the Police Station and then to the Canadian Embassy to try to take steps to recover or cancel the document. We had already purchased our bus tickets to Chaing Mai for that night, leaving at 6:30 pm, so Steve and Joe tried to get the necessary footage, while back at the YWAM guesthouse Andrew, Em and Matt carried all the luggage for all six of us for the 5 days in Chaing Mai to the bus station. Due to the protests, the traffic was awful and we barely made it to the bus station on time and had to call Dan to run to Burger King to get us some scrumptious supper. Then we had to decide what to do about Dan. The police had told him not to travel without a passport, the Canadian Embassy was closed, and the “emergency phone number” said it was no problem. Lak Hee advised against travel as well, but we needed Dan to capture some of the really important scenes in Chaing Mai. Finally we decided Dan should stay back and go to the Embassy the next morning first thing, cancel his passport and apply for a new one. He could also seek their advice for travel.
The rest of us climbed onto a bus crowded with white tourists. Some of them were nice, some were drunk and some were downright jerks. Steve had to sit in front of a guy who wouldn’t let him recline his seat at all – the entire 15 hours Steve had to sit ramrod straight and try to sleep. But we arrived in Chaing Mai, tired, headachey and ready to get away from the backpacker culture!
We settled into a nice guesthouse – with a pool even – and recieved the good news that Dan had finished all applications necessary and was catching a flight from Bangkok to Chaing Mai to arrive at 5 pm. Andrew and Emily planned a jungle trek while the other guys organised the equipment. We were back together and ready to trek!
– en
Bangkok City
March 27th, 2006
We woke hardened by another night on a hardwood floor and thin mattresses. Perhaps more than one of us wondered how the air temperature can remain around or above 30 C all day long. The runoff of Alberta replaced here with sweat. But this is Thailand in transition from warm to hot season, not Canada from winter to spring.
Outside a van waited for us, hired to transport us wherever we wished to go. We made our way to the Grand Palace, a photogenic camp of Buddhist temples where tourists and parishioners collide. Architecture and colour, small tourist cameras roll constantly in side at a nominal fee. Unfortunately for our team, the slightly larger cameras are not easily welcomed. Slyly capturing what you can is replaced with the reminder of a bayonet-rifle-bearing guard at every entrance or exit.
We moved across the street and filmed a flock of pigeons, rows of kites in an open field, and interviewed a Buddhist monk clothed in yellow. Moving on, we arrived at a tourist market and marveled at the white-skinned majority. We found ourselves in a place where one can be slightly overcharged for merchandise if they are not careful, and eat at Subway or Burger King. Some of us did.
Overwhelmed by either heat or their bodies, some male tourists walked past shops topless. Among the chaos you might have found six white Canadians interviewing a tourist from Venezuela or Germany. Others probably missed it.
Our air-conditioned van was appreciated as it took us to a large food market area. Attempting to minimize attention, Joel and Steve were sent a lone into the market. Meanwhile, Emily, Andrew, and Matt escorted Daniel to a building. It was a dangerous place to go. A place a person can go into knowing they will not come out the same. A common understanding was found. “Cut. Hair. 100 Baht.” Before and After photos were in order as a multiple years’ ‘Do’ was made to resemble a frontman of either ‘The Killers’ or Paul Mcartney.
At any rate, the day seemed to end on a note that resonated with the concept of our film: Change is possible.
– dk
Thanks Mona!
March 23rd, 2006
Thanks for everything Mona. You’re amazing. We had a great time in India.
Miracle in Mumbai
March 21st, 2006
You might not believe it if we told you. Or maybe you wouldn’t think it is that exciting. But we’re still tingling a bit from the miracle. We arrived in Mumbai on Monday night. We had a guest house for a night, and were happy to leave it.
Matt and I set out early this morning to search for a hotel. But there was no room to be had in any inn: an international cricket match between India and England means ‘no vancancy.’
A long story short, ask us about the rest of the details someday, we were able to change our flight, free of cost, after we were told the office was closed, after frantic cab rides through busy streets, after pleading with annoyed airline employees to intervene, even though it was a holiday and they were going home. And a little frantic even desperate prayer helped too.
It’s been a good and stressful day as a group. We stood together. We’ll fly together. And I think we’ll laugh a little together on the plane. We fly out early early morning and will be in Bangkok tomorrow.
-ak
Blood, a school bus, and an out trip
March 18th, 2006
The sound we heard from just outside the dining hall made me get off my feet. A goat non-chalantly lying in the shade where the cooks prepare food, casually baahing.
When told the goat was to be the evening meal, I quickly asked when the event would take place and if the crew could bring its cameras. Other than my aunt’s wild axe-swinging, chicken ending antics as a child visiting the Bentley farm I have never seen an animal slaughtered. An Albertan visits India: welcome to the eat-meating planet. It was a bloody and fascinating affair, and dare I say sad and unfortunate for the goat.
We spent more time at the Good Shepherd School with Dalit children. Matt, Dan, and I were invited to ride the bus home with the kids.
It was packed to the limit with kids who bounced over bumps, some sitting on seats with entire sections detached from their metal legs. As more and more children got off the bus, a young boy showcased his talents, holding onto two different arm rests and doing backflips in the aisle. Animal slaughter, six-year old backflips in a moving bus, and other sights sure not to see at home.
We finally made it to the pipe village, a group of communities where families live in discarded cement pipes made in the factory where many of the villagers work. We were warmly welcomed. We taught the kids a song and shared a Bible story.
The people in the villages were kind and humble. They were happy.
-ak
the 17th
March 17th, 2006
After Andrew’s many proddings, and days and days of my own procrastination, this road journal is finally seeing the light of day. It’s not so much that I didn’t want to write it, because I do. The problem was I had no idea what I wanted to say. And if I am going to be honest at all, which to my credit, is an attribute of highest praise, I still don’t. So if this is already boring, it is probably in your best interest to disengage and go and do something stimulating, because this is about as good as it’s going to get.
It is not my desire to shed a bad light on the events of Friday, March 17, because it easily could be one of the best days of shooting that we had in India. It was an amazing time, and my memory of it is fond. I just want to be as fair as possible.
When we first arrived in Hyderabad, Mona, whom we owe so much to, told us about a place that seemed to fit in very well with E for Everyone. This place was only a short drive away from the OM base camp where we were staying, and we would easily be able to go at some point along our stay in Hyderabad to visit it. It sounded enchanted and unique, and really unlike anything I had ever heard of before. So we were quite excited to go there and see it for ourselves, and interact with the people.
But, as events unfolded our visit was continually postponed until we had settled on a time near the middle of our last week. It was put on the back burner, so to speak, as we focused on other things that were more space and time sensitive (for what those were, check out some of the other road journals from India). But, the time did come, and we were all quite excited for it, but as happens often in India, plans don’t always go to…plan. And that day came and went, and we confidently changed our schedule to go on Friday, March 17.
We got up early in the morning filled with anticipation to get the most out of our day. And then we climbed into the vehicle, later than we had hoped as getting ready always takes longer than expected, and headed enroute for our destination.
Now, unfortunately, for the films sake, I cannot not tell you what this place was. That would be like telling your child what his present was when you just spent a year and a half wrapping it. So I hope you can wait a bit. But it was a very special time.
-mjk
Pondicherry
March 13th, 2006
The weekend was a bit of a whirlwind, we started it running for our train. Likely a communication blunder, our driver came late, and when, minutes away from the train station he asked what time our train left, his jaw dropped at our collective response of “4:20 PM.” (It was already 4:21). But we made the mad dash, with a few minutes to spare, and settled into our compartments. We’ve had a ‘pacca’ Indian experience: trains are the preferred and most convenient mode of transportation in the country. And we survived.
We were met by some OM friends in Chenai, who had driven the few hour drive from Pondicherry to greet us, then waited two hours longer than expected because the train was late. The drive in the OM bus was delayed by a flat tire and a much needed lunch. We were thankful to settle into our hotel once we arrived.
Those of you have read The Life of Pi will recognize the name Pondicherry, a city of a few million people on the coast in the south east. I don’t know what Yann Martel had in mind, but the sea wall near our hotel, host of a towering Mohatma Ghandi statue and flanked by a Catholic Church and Hindu Temple looked like it could be the spot where Pi has his conversation with the Muslim cleric, and the Hindu and Catholic priests. Those of us on the crew who read and enjoyed the book had fun imagining the scene.
We visited another Dalit school and conducted some interviews at a Hindu temple that was built over a thousand years ago. It had a natural pool of healing water where we watched men swim for their health, mothers with their kids feed surprisingly large fish, and floating garbage collect at the edge where water met the stone steps.
We also visited two fishing villages hit by 2004’s Tsunami. 20,000 Indians died on that terrible day in December. Both villages we visited lost about 40 or so people, many of them little kids that were stolen from the beach, pulled into the water as the wave crashed against the shoreline and drowned. Kids not unlike the beautiful brown-eyed boys and girls fighting to the front of the crowd to have their picture taken and then fight some more to get a good look at their digital image; boys and girls shyly giggling hoping for a chance to hold Emily’s hand.
It is hard to imagine the tragedy those young, carefree children have witnessed, endured, survived. The beach, once riddled in bodies and screams of anguish has a different soundscape, laughter and casual conversation, and is now covered with brightly painted fishing boats, distributed by various NGOs.
By now, the villagers are used to camera crews, even weary of them. People wanting to tell the story of tragedy, of survival, of hope in the midst of despair. It was a strange line to walk, a line of intrusion, of curiosity, genuine concern and personal agendas. It is a challenge to remain sensitive to people and to achieve our purposes for the film. It is difficult to imagine such tragedy now set against the stark contrast of normalcy. And perhaps it takes courage to do both.
I think that in India we are learning something about compassion. It is a complicated and difficult work. There is so much need, and we are so few. Beggars with torn off limbs, outstretched hands, people lying on the streets. Shrewd professional beggars too, who are hired to take advantage of people who will give. Who do we give to, and how much? Who is genuine and who is a hustler? And that’s before we pull out the cameras to tell a story where we hope will evoke compassion and in so doing bring change. What stories do we tell anyway, and what are our motives behind the lens?
I imagine the vocabulary of compassion must also be the vocabulary of limitation. My finiteness often frustrates me, and my imperfection. What a challenge to freely give from a right heart and to share what we have witnessed with integrity. Though part of me fears the learning of it, compassion is a word whose meaning I want to learn, to know.
-ak
Another productive day in bustling Hyderabad
March 8th, 2006
Today was a very productive day. We rented our own vehicle and driver for the whole day to do some shooting in town. OM also lent us Solomon (who is the warehouse manager for OM – obviously a very smart and talented guy) to be our guide all day. He was awesome!
We went back to the Hindu temple in the morning and asked for special permission to shoot there. Unfortunately, we still weren’t allowed up into the main part of the temple, but they gave us permission to take photos of it from a little below, which is usually not allowed. We got some very interesting interviews there, including an interview of a eunuch.
After that we went to a market, where Steve and Joe got some more interviews. They actually interviewed an Indian version of a friend back home (Rick Kinley) who later took us to his uncle’s shop and gave us some Indian sweets (which almost made Dan and I lose our breakfast).
From there we went to Charminar, which is the Muslim area of Hyderabad. We were a little worried about being in that area, because there has been a little bit of strife here due to the Danish newspaper thing. But Solomon was confident and it turned out great. We got some amazing shots of a mosque and a monument from the balcony of a hospital and Joe and Steve got a few really good interviews. We also had the distinct privilege of sampling some of the local fresh squeezed juice. It was delicious! It tasted sort of like Orange Julius but better. The only thing was it had ice (safe or not, we’ll never know) and the cups weren’t clean to North American standards. What can you do? Nothing worth doing is without risk!
We got some shots of some buildings and a Gandhi statue on our way back to Paradise where we had another fabulous lunch of chicken Biryani in an air conditioned dining room before we headed down to the General Bazaar and the Fish Market to get our final scene for the day. I felt a little awkward carrying Gap bags through a vegetable and fish market, but the scene was successful.
We finished our day at Solomon’s home, where he served us tea and passed around his four-month-old son. It was one of our most productive shooting days yet. We’re feeling really good heading into our weekend in Pondicherry and Chennai. Pray for us on the train, as I guess it can be a bit of a shock to foreigner…
-en
Telegu and city tours
March 8th, 2006
On Sunday we had the opportunity to worship with the Telegu speaking people of the Good Shepherd Community Church. India is a wonderful country with so many loving and generous people. We had the opportunity to share with the congregation by leading them with two songs and sharing a testimony. Once again, we nominated Andrew to give the sermon – we are all very grateful.
The afternoon was fairly relaxing. I believe we all were privileged to enjoy a very interesting game of cricket displaying wonderful bowling and a great comeback.
On Monday we were able to complete a scene in the dining hall, in which Steve and Joel may have pounded 3 kgs of rice each.
At around 2 in the afternoon, Kevin, an American affiliated with OM, took us in his SUV on yet another journey into Hyderabad to show us some of the contrasts within. We visited a place called Hi-Tech city where the lifestyles of the rich and poor clashed side by side. Beautiful upper-class condos towered over garbage-covered tents in the next lot, that house the people who built the condos. We felt rain for the first time on our trip late in the afternoon as we all stopped to eat some ice cream at a one of the few Americanized establishments in the City – Baskin Robins.
On our way back to the base, we took advantage of the crazy Indian traffic and filmed from the patio of what turns out to be one of the greatest restaurants known to man. It is called the Paradise Hotel and is famous for its Chicken Biriyani (ask us about it sometime, hopefully we will be able to find a recipe).
It was on this patio that some great footage was taken, but more notably, history was most definitely made. For an unprecedented 6th time, Daniel, our Director of Photography, has been the victim of an aerial bombing. Although this time only the camera was hit, Dan has been pooped on 4 different times since the beginning or our journey, and the camera twice. I believe that this may be the most times in 7 weeks that anyone has been the focus of such attacks. I now realize that the vulture chasing us on the highway to the Masai Mara at 100 km/h, a vulture the size of a small elephant, was on a mission to hand Danny a Darwin Award. On Daniel’s behalf, we do thank you all for your prayers.
-mk
Dalits
March 3rd, 2006
villagers line up to register at the medical camp where they hope for a free check up
We spent the last two days filming and volunteering at a temporary medical clinic set up by OM (operation mobilization) in the village of Uddamarry, which is about an hour outside of Secunderabad on bumpy, but paved roads (which are a few shades nicer than those of Kenya). The drive out was full of captivating sights. Giant granite boulders jumping out of otherwise gently rolling landscape in striking clusters. For part of the way, a long body of water, maybe a river, maybe a lake, sent the sunlight up to us as we bounced along in the bus. It reminded me of a moment in Richard Attenborough’s “Gandhi”, although an association like that here is likely inevitable, no matter what the place actually looks like. Between the comatose river and groups of giant rocks standing at attention, lay all kinds of fields: tall wheat, still green; rice in small square paddies; and grape vines still in their youth, hanging gingerly off their supports. On the way there today we hit a bump going about eighty clicks an hour, and all six of us (seated sideways at the back) spent a good second fully suspended, “Matrix” style, in the air.
The medical clinic consisted of a giant tent, with a waiting area and about eight ten-by-ten foot rooms, sectioned off, but the dividers were cloth, and only about six feet high, showing that privacy, even in a medical facility, is a luxury, not a need. Our job was to entertain the school children while the teachers worked administrating the clinic and translating for the doctors. It’s wonderful to see that children here in India are just like kids back home: the leaders, the cute quiet ones, the bad seeds, the outgoing ones who demand to be the centre of attention. They were so adorable, I didn’t know whether to hug them or eat them alive. We filmed for a while on the first day, as Joel and I played “memory” with the kids, and taught them to play “rock, paper, scissors”. The children were so well trained: the first group we saw as we came off the bus greeted us with an open-eyed, sarcasm-free “Good morning, sir!” in an accent distinctly Indian, but which, in the pronunciation of the word “sir” sounded unmistakably English. That, together with their navy shorts/skirts, light blue shirts and skinny navy ties, was almost too much cuteness to assimilate all at once.
We sang songs, we played games, Em and Andrew drew pictures for them, we read stories. One highlight for me was organizing a game of “duck-duck-goose”, which was tons of fun, even though the rules weren’t strictly adhered to. It kind of broke down, though, when they started refusing to sit anywhere the sunlight shone; very quickly we were down to a line, so “Simon Says” was the new order of the day. By the end of today, we were all exhausted, even though we hadn’t spent that many actual hours with the students. But, with them literally hanging off us, it was pretty tiring.
The village, and all the children at the school, are Dalits or untouchables. In Hinduism there are four main castes, the highest of which are the Brahmins. The Dalits are not even in the lowest caste; they are outside the system, but still connected to it as slaves. They are not allowed to go to school. They are not allowed to enter a Hindu temple, the place of worship of the very religion that puts them in their place. They must drink from mud cups that are smashed after they drink, so that a caste member will not defile him/herself by drinking from the same cup. A Dalit may not even let his/her shadow fall upon one of the castes, for even that will defile him/her. There are two hundred and fifty million Dalits in India – almost the same population as America – all suffering under oppression, neglect, and abuse.
All those smiling faces, surrounding and enveloping us these past two days, are supposed to be “untouchable”. It is a myth. A three thousand year old lie told by the powerful to take advantage of (I can think of less savory expressions) the weak, right up there with the “divine right of kings” and the dictatorship of the wealthy in modern “democracy” (see A People’s History of the United States by Howard Zinn). I had a thought, much too cheesy, simple-minded, and pretentious for the fim, so I’ll include it here (where those traits abound): there are no untouchables, only the untouched. It’s true, and it breaks my heart.
-srn
A Whirlwind Tour of Hyderabad
February 27th, 2006
Waking early we pack up our gear and meet our driver outside. With a malaria pill in our stomachs, we drive into the city, from our short-term home at the Operation Mobilization compound. Arriving at the station, we board a bus to tour the city of Hyderabad. Other passengers, that appear to be locals, or Indians, rather, from other parts of the country, perhaps also seeing the city for the first time. Our tour guide tests the in-bus microphone over the speakers five or six more times than is necessary, and begins explaining our agenda in a way that is difficult for six Canadians to understand. Mona, friend from Canada who lives and works with OM in India, on the other hand, does not miss a word. Our bus ride will be around eight hours long, including a lunch break consisting mainly of fantastic Indian food. (I am totally serious).
Highlights include a military fort overlooking the city, where an Indian film crew happens to be filming as well; the elephant and baboons at the local zoo seem a familiar sight coming from Africa, but the beautiful family of tigers are a welcome addition. Removing our shoes on the way to summitting a Hindu temple, parishioners ring a bell to awaken gods that could be sleeping. Priests accept coconuts from people, and one cannot but marvel at the all-marble construction, towering with carvings and intricate detail, overlooking the city from its transcendental perch. Presently, a grey haze burdens the urban sprawl, as our time runs out at this stop and the tour continues.
There is much to see and ponder, even as the tour ends and we gladly eat another great meal at the OM compound. With our first day of shooting in India complete, we meet briefly and plan for what looks to be another whirlwind month.
– dk
Transition
February 26th, 2006
Our time in Kenya has come to an end. We finished on a high note: a Safari in the Masai Mara Wildlife park. We saw 4 of Kenya’s ‘big 5′: Lions (male, female, and cubs), Elephants, Giraffes, Water Buffalo, but no Rhinos. A Cheetah, Wildbeasts, Antelope, Vultures, Fox, Storks, and more. Better than the zoo.
We are thankful to all our friends from Nairobi to Lodwar, Kakamega, Mombasa, and Malindi. Especially to Reverend Kubondo and his team of people. We left with fond memories and what we hope is compelling footage. We covered a lot of ground! We were humbled and honoured to deliver some relief through the generous giving of people at home to people in need.
We were tired when we arrived at the Mumbai airport, early in the morning. Our flight was changed so we sat, ravaged by mosquitos, through the night. It was a relief to get on the plane and fly to Hyderabad where we will stay for the next few weeks.
We’re staying at an Operation Mobilization campus. We feel comfortable and safe. Temperatures average about 30 C in the day, but cool to 15 C at night.
We’re adjusting to the time difference, recovering from travel, and enjoying Indian food and eating with our hands: mastering the rice-flick from thumb to mouth, careful not to eat from our fingers, and sure not to trace curry or rice past the second knuckle.
In the next few days we have an opportunity to travel with a medical outreach team, and in the days ahead will tour the city (home to over 6.5 million people) and visit a squatter village where people live in discarded pipelines.
-ak
Malindi
February 17th, 2006
We took another bus to Malindi, a small town on the Indian Ocean, with a lot of resident Italian tourists who drink hard alcohol at night, smoke non-stop, and sunbathe during the day until their skin is dark and leathery. As soon as we could, we jumped in the ocean.
Boy in sea Originally uploaded by Edgar Thissen.It is beautiful here. We feel safe and relaxed, and realize we have been pushing hard and that it’s time for a little RnR. Between crashing waves, saltwater stinging her eyes, Em announced this was by far the highlight of the trip to a chorus of agreement.
We’ll stay a few days here. The Koomans were excited to see their cousin Luke’s fiancee. Ashley Mitchell met us in Malindi where she’s working on a volunteer exchange with Canada World Youth. She has shown us around the town and is connecting us with some local friends for interviews. On Saturday she’ll take us to a beautiful white-sand beach.
-ak
Midnight Express to Mombasa
February 15th, 2006
We were spoiled by Mama Ruth our last few days in Kakamega. We spent the last Sunday at church. Andrew hardly made it through the morning service, the nurse at the Nala Medical Clinic for Malaria and Typhoid identified that his vomiting, soreness, fatigue, and headache were classic symptoms of Malaria, a curable strain of the parasite with a weeks worth of medication.
Meanwhile, the rest of the crew hosted the young adult afternoon service at Reverend Kubondo’s church. The five sang some songs, Steve delivered a message about love and Em shared on the topic too, then the Kenyans made the group stand up and forced out their reserved whiteness by making them dance. The Kenyans were interested in life in Canada, customs, and the surprising fact that Steve, a professed Christian, would wear an earring. (P.S. Don’t tell them about the tattoo).
We were given a warm send off at the bus station in town for our Express ride to Mombasa: fifteen hours of pure delight through the night on severely bumpy roads. The ride was most miserable for Steve who hardly slept a wink. Kubondo, Dan, Joel, Matt, and Em achieved various altered states of consciousness, while Andrew, with a proven history of insomnia on modes of public transport slept like a baby, probably due to his parasitic souvenir from Kakamega.
We spent two nights at the ACK Guesthouse in Mombasa. Cheap, comfortable rooms with mosquito nets, a pool, and what we can no longer live without – Soda Baridi. We filmed a few scenes for the feature, establishing shots of the guest house, ran errands, and played in the water. Dan went crazy in the local market on a bank-run with Andrew and tried his hand at bartering buying all things Kenyan. His big brother was happy to buy a bracelet made from giraffe hair.
-ak
Kisa
February 11th, 2006
February 10, 2006
Today was a big day. By the time we got back to Mama Ruth’s we were all so exhausted that it was hard to eat the supper she had prepared for us. A second supper at 9:30 pm can be a difficult task, especially if the first one was at 7:00. But, let me start at the beginning…
We woke up to another glorious morning of the bright sun crashing its way through palm trees and birds chirping and singing merrily. We ate breakfast, and around ten oclock or so (probably later), we loaded up the matatu (a minivan with tiny rows of seats that have no leg room and leave your head dangerously close to the ceiling, especially on these bumpy roads) and headed for kisa, an area 45 minutes outside Kakamega where there are quite a few HIV/AIDS patients, as well as widows/widowers and orphans left behind by AIDS. The area is lush and beautiful, a constant collage of emerald foliage meeting blue sky and dark crimson earth.
We were there to give a little bit of aid to those we were visiting, in the form of food or money to help with school fees and uniforms. Also, we took the opportunity to interview some of those who live such hard and lonely lives.
The first stop we made was at the local school, to pick up a few men who would guide and interpret for us (many speak Luo in this area). We basically interrupted a PTA meeting, where they greeted us warmly and welcomed us into the area. That is such a cool part of African culture, that everything comes to a halt when guests arrive, and formally greeting and welcoming them takes first priority. There is something nice, if a little awkward, about being fussed over.
First we visited a crippled widow in her tiny mud hut, delighted at our presence, that we would want to come in and talk (and give her a bit of food). The answers she gave will look quite astonishing beside the westerners’ replies. Although starving, she presented us with a handful of bananas as a gift, and we moved on.
Another widow, with several small children and an old grandmother under her thatched roof. She was timid, but emanated a quiet kindness and honesty that I could feel. I really wanted to give her a hug, but my apprehensions, based on the cultural appropriateness of that act, convinced me to stick to a handshake. When we walked around the side of the house to say hi to the kids, they screamed in fright, since we were the first mazungus (white people) they had ever seen. I forget now, which woman said it, but when asked what she would change about herself, she said she needed to have a more positive attitude about those around her who might not help her, or things like that. Amazing.
Then an old woman, bedridden with AIDS for two years, old skin stretched too tight across her gaunt frame. She had strength for only a few questions, but expressed happiness at being saved. And then, just as we were about to walk outside, she pulled back her blanket to reveal her shrunken breast, attacked by some kind of tumor near her left shoulder. I shrank away at first, not sure if she wanted it on tape, but it became evident that she did, so I shot a gloomy close-up in the inadequate light of the room. Walking out of her house, I was sensing a heaviness. All this pain and sadness and loneliness, and her I am seeking it out and recording it. Sometimes it seems like no big deal, like I’m handling it with the detachment that comes more easily than people assume. But once in a while I get the feeling that all that information and emotion is being stored somewhere. It’s a little scary, but comforting, too, because forgetting about this stuff, and not letting it impact my lifestyle and thought patterns from here on in would be wrong.
Fresh graves, big mounds of red dirt fenced in with crudely hewn tree limbs, are a common sight in most yards. Last year the rate of HIV infection was forty percent. And yet, here maybe more than anywhere, young children are everywhere, smiling and laughing and cute as the dickens.
We visited a young man dying of AIDS, whose big worry was not dying itself, but the fact that he could no longer be a breadwinner for his mother. Blind, and confined to a tiny mud room, he is a sorry sight. But he was welcoming and friendly, which, under the circumstances, must take both strength and humility.
With the sun starting to set, we walked up to the house of three children, left to fend for themselves by satan manifesting himself as AIDS. They were so beautiful, and Julie, the oldest, has a light in her eyes that made me love her in one second. She was fifth highest in her class last year, even thought her mother was dying. Now she is a mother of two children, and thinks mostly about those responsibilities, like how they will eat and go to school. I wanted to hug her and make food for her and give her a place to sleep that is safe and clean – just so she could be a kid, if only for the few remaining years of childhood she has left. It is so unfair. Those children are so brave and strong, but I hate that they have to be.
The drive home was largely silent, all of us absently bouncing up and down in the cold blue light of the matatu.
–srn
Back to Kakamega
February 6th, 2006
Well, it is nice to be back in Kakamega! The cool green shade and the cold water from a tap is like heaven.
By 7:30 am, Joel, Matt and Em had written a three act musical, and Matt choreographed it. Dan and Andrew were fighting nausea sitting in the front with the camera case shoved between at their feet. Steve, sitting in the back, cranked his head on the roof at least a dozen times due to the gloriously-muscle-loosening roads. We were ready to be out of the desert.
At one point we were flagged down by a truck and found out that they were trying to bring aid up to Lodwar, but their fan belt melted. They wanted a ride back to another abandoned truck to take the fan belt off that vehicle. So we gave them a ride. When we got to where the other truck was we were in for quite a sight! There was a part of the road where the bridge had collapsed so there was a make-shift road that forded the river in the middle of a very deep valley. We had to descend a steep cliff, cross the river and then climb a steeper hill back out. And it appeared that many people had been totally unsuccessful! There was a truck (the one belonging to the guy we were dropping off) that was totally high-centered and stuck in the river. Apparently, he could not make it up the hill, so someone was towing him and the tow rope had broken sending his truck all the way back down. He had had to sit there for 24 days waiting for another truck to come up and take on his cargo so that they could continue the trip. That was the truck that had lost its fan belt. Then, on the other side of the valley there was a semi and trailer rolled over in the middle of the road, with all of its cargo of maise flour spilled out all over the road (it was in sacks, so not a total loss). We had to weave around this truck to make it out of the valley. This was definitely the most excitement in an otherwise dull trip.
A few times the sun coming through the window actually felt like it was cooking skin. It was like putting your hand in an oven. Merciless! We arrived in good time (5:00 pm) back in Kakamega at Mama Ruth’s. And it feels like heaven. The shower water is chilly and it was wonderful to feel cold for the first time in a week. We all showered, ate and relaxed for a few hours (watched some bad Kenyan TV), before we went to bed. Its amazing to realize that this level of comfort here, which is about 50% of the comfort at home but probably three times as comfortable as Lodwar, is enough. This feels like all the comfort we would need.
– en
Church in Lodwar
February 4th, 2006
Rising at 9 am we went for breakfast. Reverend Kubondo had told the congregation on the previous night that church would begin at 9 am sharp. However, between the E for Everyone group, our driver George, and our helper Sunday, he explained that this referred to Kenya time, which actually meant we would not arrive at the church until 10:30. He knew better than we, the Canadians, that on Kenyan time, if we really began the service at 9 am, very few would have been there yet. So, after a breakfast of eggs, bread with peanut butter and jam, and hot drinks, we made our way by van to the small Lodwar church called ‘Jesus Praise Center’. On arrival, over 50 smiling children took turns shouting, laughing, smiling, waving, and shaking hands to words like ‘habari’ and ‘jambo’. Admittedly, everywhere that 6 white people gather, at least 2 or 20 times that number in locals will appear, often times just to survey the unfamiliar.
The worship service began with loud songs of praise to the King of kings. As Reverend Kubondo said earlier, the people in Lodwar, (a dry, dusty, hot place) ‘Worship with all their hearts.’ The people would not have been able to fit in the small church building, so the service took place in the shade beneath a large tree outside. After worshipping, Daniel and Steve were given an opportunity to share testimonies with the people, as translated by Jehosaphat, who teaches and preaches at Jesus Praise Center and a school nearby. Later, Andrew delivered a message about faith, referencing the story of his friend Johnny’s narrow escape from death at a waterfall, because of the power of the Creator.
During the service, we were able to capture some footage of the people worshipping, and of the Unveil team praying for the people. The people (especially the children) are very intrigued by our cameras. They will often break into dancing or poses when they see the LCD monitor and realize they have one chance to show off for the camera. At any rate, the service was ‘Powerful.’
The service ended with the Unveil team distributing some relief to the people. All of the children were given juice, while the youth and adults were given about 1 or 2 kg of maise flour. Although it was not much, the people were happy to accept the food. With smiles and waves, the children sent us off to our lodgings, where we filmed close-ups in our van to match another scene we shot earlier in a different location. The magic of filmmaking. The day ended with a round of cards as the sun set, another fantastic Kenyan meal of chicken curry with rice/ugali/chipate, and a ’soda baridi’ (baridi means ‘cold’ – a welcome temperature at any time in a hot country).
Then to sleep after supper, with the knowledge that a 12-hour drive on a mostly treacherous road awaits. Sweet dreams.
– dk
Lake Turkana
February 4th, 2006
Lake Turkana
Feb. 4th, 2006
Today we went on a journey north of Lodwar to learn more about the mystery of the water-dwelling tribe in Lake Turkana. Through word of mouth, from our guides, we heard of a people whose lives are spent in the water. A tribe with a constant population of 99 people who have no teeth, can not bear the sun but are excellent swimmers, not afraid of a daily dip with the hippos and crocodiles. On our way to discover the truth of this strange people, the wheels of the Toyota Hiace found themselves rim deep in the soft sand surrounding the Lake. It took 9 men 1 women to free them from the hot thorny sand – thank you Emily for your many years of experience dealing with the deep snow back home. Finally arriving at the lake, right on Kenyan time, we found the water very comfortable and the people very friendly…with very nice teeth.
We arrived in back in Lodwar in the evening and had a wonderful time singing and fellowshipping with the people of Jesus Praise Centre. They were blessed by the testimonies of Joel and Matthew and the teaching from Brother Andrew. They were also extremely happy to hear that Unveil and some people from Canada had agreed to pay for the rest of the land to be owned by JPC. On this new land there are plans to build a new church, a minister’s house, a medical clinic, and a school for orphaned children. Thank you all for your support and for contributing to the relief we have been able to do here in Kenya so far.
MJK
Kakuma
February 3rd, 2006
We traveled the road north today to Kakuma, a United Nations refugee camp managed by the Lutheran World Federation. Kakuma is one of the biggest camps for refugees in Africa. Over 91,000 people live in the camp from countries including Uganda, Somalia, D.R. Congo, Ethiopia, and Sudan.
Andrew and Reverend Kubondo, as the team representatives, jumped through hoops and red tape to get permission to enter the camp to film. Things looked good, and we had the signatures we needed, and then we were told that we would not be allowed to enter the camp. Safety was the biggest concern, and with so many ‘Mazoonga’s’ (foreigners) we may have caused a stir, especially with video equipment. Much of the camp is peaceful, but there is a lot of strife and discord among the different Sudanese tribes.
We decided to drive around the exterior of the camp and found an amazing film location. We met with the chief of a certain tribe who found refuge on the outskirts of the camp. His small village was made out of small huts that, to use a crude description, looked like large bird nests turned upside down, made out of sticks, grass, and garbage. Children swarmed the cameras. The wind and dust were nearly unbearable. The setting was appropriate, and begged the question which we ask in the film: ‘how can we live in our comfort when we know others live like this?’
We were able to leave thirty kilograms of rice for the tribe, and set up a commitee to ensure that it was distributed fairly. On the way out, we stopped at a small restaurant and ate some goat stew with chipati, and Kubondo had his signature Coca-Cola.
– ak
The Turkana Tribe
February 2nd, 2006
Today was a day of new things. “Mountain-top experiences,” Steve called them. We started the day off with a very light breakfast of bread and jam, and then we left to go to the supermarket to get corn, or maise, flour to give as aid in a village 30 km out of Lodwar, the direction of which was lost on the group.
The Lodwar area was completely ravaged by famine. It was full of dry rivers and wells. There was not much more than dust, wind, and trees, most of which were dying or dormant, dome huts made out of the bare elements, and villagers. Beautiful people, a few at first, and then the majority of the village gathered under a large tree for much needed shade, until the food and juice had been prepared. Rev. Kubundo then asked them to pray and it was soon obvious that we were serving a village of God fearing people. 6 young people from Red Deer, somehow ended up in their backyard, under the same tree, acknowledging the same God. And we were all aware of Him in the same way, not just as a provider, of reliever of suffering, but on a deeper level. As One who satisfies the heart, One who satisfies spiritual hunger. They had that same need, and God was fulfilling it in their own important and unique way. They were so happy. Such genuine smiles and love for each other. It’s hard to know how they could live with so much contentment, in a place that we could not relate to, totally void of anything that we are familiar with, of anything that looks even remotely like what we would call joy.
It was an awesome day, in ways that we’ll never understand, and in ways that will stay with us for a long time.
–mjk
The Road to Lodwar
February 1st, 2006
We drove to Lodwar today, and are staying at a rustic but really cool retreat centre. It has electricity, but all the lodges are completely open with thatched roofs and skinny bars for windows. Lodwar is very far north, almost to the border. It is HOT here – even a few hours after dark the temperature is still in the thirties. The mosquitoes come out at night: they are small, and emit a high-pitched whine, higher than that of their Canadian counterparts. They are small, but they pack a big punch – malaria. Thank God for drugs and mosquito nets.
The drive up from Kakamega was about twelve hours long over crumbling, horrible roads. At one spot we found a semi-truck impossibly hung up in a river valley, closed in by giant boulders on every side. Most of the time George, our driver, stuck to the sand shoulders because it was easier going. The drive was really cool. We started in the lush area around Kakamega, cool in the morning under the shade of the big trees. The markets and shops were bustling with cars, trucks, bicycles and pedestrians. Then we started up the mountains. The view was very pretty. After that, as we got closer to Turkana territory, the hills began to flatten out. More and more termite mounds appeared, some looking like 14-foot towers, others like clumsily gesturing hands. The vegetation grew more sparse and closer to the ground. The sun grew hotter, and when we pulled over for lunch, thorny dry bushes dominated the sandy landscape.
We are bringing as much aid as we can fit in the van, for the Turkana people, both in the church and in the outlying villages. It’s nice to be able to use all the money everyone gave us in such an immediately useful way. Also, knowing we have it makes it easier to say no to the endless beggars we run into (which we’ve been told to do, because it starts riots, and doesn’t really help in the long run). Well, an exhausting day, but we’re safely in bed again.
– srn
Kakamega
January 31st, 2006
Roads in Kenya differ in a number of ways from those in Canada. Potholes seem to be the norm, rather than the exception.
The last 187 Km of our journey from Nairobi to Kakamega took over four hours. And the animals. Wildlife is much different too. On our journey we saw zebras, baboons, and warthogs on the roadside. We made our driver stop multiple times and snapped lots of photos. But sorry, there are none here for you to see today. (We’re unable to upload them at this internet cafe… stay tuned; we promise some when we return from Lodwar).
What we can tell you, is that those pictures show a beautiful country. The sweeping Rift Valley, disparity of rich and poor, a dry land, and in places, a lush country with many tea plants.
We are staying with Mama Ruth at a beatiful home in the city of Kakamega, on the same property where Reverend Kubondo lives. They are treating us like family and welcome guests. Good food, comfortable beds. We are not surprised at the hospitality of the people here, but happily thankful.
Today we did some banking. Dan, Emily, and Andrew took out wads of Kenyan Shillings at the local bank (because of the currency and the conversion, we’ve suddenly become millionaires; that will soon change, and though fleeting, we admit it is a bit exciting). Much of the money we withdrew will be used to buy food and water for people who have none. We also will use some to put towards the purchase of land so that a health clinic can be built for a tribal group. We sincerely thank family and friends at home (parents and Crossroads church members) who gave generously. We go with your funds to bring blessing in a practical way. It’s amazing that what is a little money to us can be used in a significant way for people in need.
Tonight and in the days ahead, we will film some key scenes. One in particular, at the refugee camp up north, that is part of the emotional centre of the film. We are excited to capture footage for the ‘feature.’
-ak
Nairobi on a Sunday
January 29th, 2006
Wow! First full day in Kenya. Yesterday we were so tired that Andrew actually fell asleep standing up and almost wiped out. We spent almost 40 hours in transit and then had to stay awake all day (we arrived at 6:00 am) so it was a bit scary. We have been oriented by Rev. William Kubundo now and have planned our trip for the next month and we are feeling good. We went to church this morning and it was awesome! The worship puts us to so much shame! They are so free and its kind of chaotic and very spiritual. God was such a force that it was hard to sing without laughing or crying or dancing or something. And the sermon was great too… exactly what we needed to hear. He spoke about fear and about how we need not fear anything as long as God is with us. He often broke into dramatic skits and was very funny. Tomorrow we are heading North and West to Kakamega, where we will spend two nights and then we will go even farther North to Lodwar where we will go to a refugee camp and several small villages. We will then return to Kakamega for about 8 days. So we have planned until February 12th and it all looks very exciting. Kenya is warm, the people are friendly, and the food is good. What more can you ask for? We are all doing very well. Thanks for everyone’s love and prayers. We feel them.
-en
Touchdown
January 28th, 2006
We made it! As a group we’re, collectively, fighting the impulse to sleep after spending more than 48 hours with little to no sleep on airplanes, in airports, and that whirlwind tour of London where some serious guerilla film – making took place.
We met the Hainsworths on London’s Underground, and emerged from deep below the earth at Westminster Abbey. We took snapshots of Big Ben, grabbed some interviews, went to London Bridge, and even stopped at a small pub for a pint, before scrambling to Heathrow again and nearly missing our flight (ask Joel and Andrew about the curious incident of the unusually small bladder, and the French cafe waitress’ unkind scolding).
Then finally – finally! – it was off to Africa. We landed in Kenya early on Saturday morning. Getting through customs with all of our gear was a breeze, and our friend William Kubondo was there waiting to meet us, along with Shu Shu, Nicolas, and some other members of his church. We were so excited to meet them, and after spending a little time with them, are even more excited to be in Kenya. We expect great things.
William will guide us to a number of places in the country. We expect to meet beautiful and hospitable people, a vast and breathtaking country, and to look into the face of the suffering as well. Children, said William, who receive handouts of water as if it were pure gold. Women and children afflicted with AIDS, here one day and gone the next.
We feel safe and welcome, tired but excited, hopeful and small. We need courage and compassion. And faith.
-ak
Nairobi, here we come!
January 26th, 2006
Yesterday was our last full day in North America. Joel and the Kooboys capped it off with an amazing concert experience in Seattle. Coldplay was amazing, and so was Fiona Apple who opened the night. Em and Steve took some time alone and spent the night in SeaTac. They phoned home(love and greetings to all our parents!)
We are expecting a change of pace. The path ahead seems full of adventure. We fly to Nairobi through Chicago and London, where we hope to meet a friend near Heathrow who will take us to Picadilly Circus.
In Africa, we’ll be met by our friend and contact Reverend William Kubondo and spend the first few days in Niarobi, settling in and recovering from jet-lag. From there we head west and North to Kakmega, and further on up to Lodwar where we will spend time with the Turkanah tribe.
Our schedule in Africa is, for the most part, planned already. We mean to visit an HIV/AIDS ministry to orphans and widows near Lake Victoria and perhaps some refugee camps in the area. We would appreciate your prayers for our crew and for the people we will visit. There is severe drought in Kenya, and many people are starving. We hope to bring some relief: our friends and family gave generously to us so we could practically meet some of the needs in the areas we will visit, buying things like maise, cooking fat, and rice for people who cannot afford it themselves.
From the Lake Victoria we plan to travel to Malindi through Nairobi, near the coast. Matt, Dan, and Andrew have a cousin working in the area. We look forward to meeting her and her friends.
Blessings to all those who are following our travels. We will speak to you again, we hope soon, from Africa.
-ak
e-merica
January 23rd, 2006
We made the thirty minute flight from Vancouver to Seattle on Saturday. The six of us crashed in a room made for four after a round of Taco Bell. Let’s just say it was an interesting night.
Our friends Jenn and Joe Nydahl picked us up and drove us to Portland on Sunday. They took us to their church – Imago Dei. After the service the Nydahls invited some friends to their place. We played Mafia, and tried out some local beer and pizza.
Portland is beautiful, cool, and green. We spent some time today shooting the cityscape and interviewing people in the downtown.
– ak
Vancouver: Day Two
January 19th, 2006
Yesterday was another busy day. We interviewed people from all different places in Vancouver’s picturesque Stanley Park.
In the evening, after whipping up some Quesadillas (cudos to the Neufelds), we drove to Langley and visited the Anaya family: Petra, Ruth, Kyle, and Tyler. They encouraged us and gave us lots of helpful information about Kenya where Petra and Ruth have lived and frequently visit with the family.
Today we pick up our Indian visas in Vancouver and will have dinner with Grandparents.
-ak
Vancouver: Day One
January 17th, 2006
We’re off! The crew left wild rose country at the beginning of the week (four by land and two by air) for beautiful British Columbia, where we will spend five days shooting before heading off for the States.
Nervous parents and friends rest at ease. We made it, safely! The behind the scenes crew (Matt, Dan, Emily, Andrew) took the treacherous road yesterday from Alberta to BC. After 15 hours on snow covered roads, through the Rocky Mountains, we finally stopped in White Rock where we’re crashing with family. (Thank you Dokas). Steve and Joel followed a day later and flew.
We started our day today at the Indian embassy to apply for our visas. Unfortunately, the youngest Kooman boys forgot their passports in White Rock, but we’ll sort it all out tomorrow.
For 62 CDN dollars, and a short wait in a cramped and humid room, you could visit the country too. Make sure you bring exact change.
Here’s a shot of us at Vancouver’s harbour. We got a bit of documentary footage at Canada Place; wind and light rain, and the fresh smell of sea-salt kissing our skin.
-ak
encouragement
January 15th, 2006
A big thank you to New Life Fellowship CRC in Red Deer. On Sunday morning, Matt, Andrew, and Daniel showed the ‘E for E’ trailer to the congregation and talked, briefly, about the trip. When asked how they could help, we told them Reverend William Kubondo, our contact in Kenya, was in need of a laptop and other things.
Many in the congregation responded immediately. The outpour of generosity enabled our crew to purchase a laptop for his school in Kenya. We’re excited to deliver it to Reverend William on New Life’s behalf.
We leave tomorrow for Vancouver. We go in the blessing and love of many friends. Thanks, once again, to New Life Fellowship.
-ak
Thanks Veena!
January 9th, 2006
Our friend Veena came over to the Koomans to give the crew some travel tips and information about Indian food and culture. Thanks Veena! The excitement continues to build.
-ak
Packing Test
January 7th, 2006
As a crew we spent some time last night packing our gear to see what fits and what doesn’t. It was hard work with a few laughs too. So far so good. Cameras, sound equipment, lighting, film, external hard drives. The lot. Don’t forget a few pairs of socks and underwear!
Our goal is to pack light and to be mobile. Our trial run was successful, although Matt had to relent and throw away the rollerblades. One backpack and a carry-on each. Look out Vancouver, here we come. And then the world.
-ak
Linn Valley Alberta, Canada
September 8th, 2005
Shooting for ‘E for Everyone’ began on August 31st, 2005. The following stills are images from one of Joel’s many dreams in the film, shot in a beautiful barley field west of Red Deer. 3 year old Abbey Rowan braved mosquitoes, and between takes fed carrots to horses during Unveil’s first evening of photography on location for the film.
-mk
Here comes the boom!
September 7th, 2005
From the South East of Asia our globetrotting sound man has arrived!
-mk
From the Road
August 23rd, 2005
Keep checking back for travel stories and photos from the Unveil crew!
-mk
