Visiting Veronica

“You can tell the tias that speak English, but you can’t tell the tias that speak Spanish, OK, Tia?” Fabiola (10) wanted to tell me a secret, but didn’t want the staff to know. Her older sister, Veronica (16), ran away from the hogar a few months ago and Fabiola knew where she was. The tias suspected the teenager was living nearby in a drug den with her boyfriend, but all they were really sure of was that if they saw her, they had to call the cops because she was a runaway and they had to turn her in.

Fabiola wanted to visit Veronica and asked me to go with her to look for her after school one day. I told her we would have to talk to the director first to get her permission. Surprisingly, the director was cool with the idea. She looked at it as a good way for the hogar to be in contact with the kid, to find out if she’s OK first and foremost, and get her anything she needs. I wondered if I should invite her back to the hogar or relay any information to her, but my director just said to make sure she’s all right and then we’d figure out if there was anyway we could reach out to her. “Should I take my camera?” I asked. That way the staff could have a visual of where Veronica was living. Although I was told to keep my professional one behind because apparently I didn’t know what type of people I was dealing with – they could be thieves, druggies, bad people who would hurt me and steel from me in an instant – I was encouraged to bring a little point and shoot. The part about just bringing a camera alone was very forward thinking of my director. She’s come a long way with understanding my photography and how photography can be a sensitive issue, but also used towards someone’s benefit. I was proud of her for thinking that way and for even using me, since I am a volunteer and not a real employee, to check up on one of the girls who’s in a sticky situation.

Fabiola and I left to look for her big sister. As we walked to the end of the block, she showed me a bag of goodies she put together for her hermana including shampoo, colonia, a few pairs of new underwear, and some old clothes she found stashed in the hogar. Like it was meant to be, we got to the end of the street and there was Veronica, walking with a friend on their way to the street fair. She greeted us with a big smile, hugged, and hugged us. She introduced us to her friend Yanara (15) who had a baby boy (8 months) covered in chicken pox, the poor little thing. Veronica had a few new marks on her body, too. She had gotten into some street fights with a few girls. She looked a bit lost in her eyes and thinner, but for the most part, she maintained her independent nature and spontaneous bouts of happiness that jump out of her body throwing her into laughing convulsions.

Turns out, Veronica has been living with her friend, her friend’s boyfriend, and their baby around the corner by the canal. We weaved up and down the streets, bought chocolate pudding, picked plums almost ripened off the trees, and made our way back to their house. Inside the floor was covered with clothes, the table with ants. Yanara told me how her boyfriend of 3 years, Ivan (22), doesn’t like when she walks through the neighborhood all day while the house is a mess. More precisely a women’s place is in the home. The girls cleaned up the place together. Yanara shoved the clothes in a suitcase, Veronica swept, and Fabiola placed handpicked wildflowers in a cup on the kitchen table. The place was barren with its hard wood floors and empty walls. The couple shared a single bed that was sunken in practically touching the floor. The baby slept in a crib with a soccer goal mesh holding up its sides. Veronica slept on a velvet green couch that let loose a flurry of dust clouds at the slightest touch.

Just as the girls were finishing up, the man of the house showed up. Ivan sat down with us. Fabiola immediately got quiet. He had a disturbing aura about him. He began to 3rd degree us about where Yanara had been all day, who Fabiola and I were, and how we got to his house. When he got it all out of his system he said we should be lucky we were girls because if he came home to find guys in his house, it would not be pretty. Then he asked how much longer we’d be hanging out because he wanted to look for some of his friends to meet us. I wish I had brought my camera, but I didn’t have a memory chip for it. Ivan came back with his friends and they asked us if we wanted to drink. I asked Fabiola if she was ready to leave and if Veronica would walk us to the end of the block.

We asked Veronica if she needed anything and she said she could use another bra. Fabiola noticed she could use some food. When I asked Fabi if her sister was better inside or outside of the hogar, she thought her sister should come back. She assured us that the couple treated her fine. Well, they didn’t mistreat her at least. Still, she was looking for a room in another part of the neighborhood with her boyfriend, who apparently is the coke addict. Yanara and Ivan don’t like it in their house. We told Veronica that she could come to the hogar when she was ready and that everyone’s worried about her, but she knows the deal. Since then, I’ve seen Veronica walking around with her girlfriend. She also comes by the hogar at night to visit her sister and they talk through the fence after the tias have gone or gone to sleep.

Pinochet Passes Away, Photo Censored at Santiago Exhibit

The public relations and culture person in charge at the library exhibiting my work asked to see a picture before I started hanging the show. I showed her the image of one of my girls with ex-Presidente Lagos in the background, and that’s when I learned that Maria Olivia was a Pinochetista. And that it would kill her to come into work everyday to see a picture from someone from the other side staring back at her. She jokingly asked for me to not put it up, or I thought she was joking anyway.

The past month has seen Pinochet in the news a lot lately. Between a heart attack and a public announcement on his behalf given by his wife recently, the country’s been having a Pinochet frenzy. Then, one week after his heart attack, Pinochet died and the country showed just how divided it really is. M. Olivia invited me to Pinochet’s funeral to take pictures. I thought it was a nice gesture that she thought of me. She knew I’d be interested in documenting the historical day. She was also looking for someone to accompany her so she wouldn’t be alone. We met in the metro station and headed over to Escuela Militar. As outspoken as she is about her stance, she is as quiet as a mouse in public. It wasn’t until we entered onto Pinochetista territory that the Our Hero poster came out and so did the cheers as she chanted with fellow supporters “Chi, Chi, Chi! Le, Le, Le! Vive Chile! Pinochet!”

A few more days later, I took a group of the girls from the hogar to the library to see the photos of them on display. A square emptiness marked by where the dust settled made it evident that a photo was missing from the series. I asked a library assistant what happened to the photo. Knowing that her boss removed it, I asked if she burned it, too. No, it was just put away in her office. I couldn’t believe she censored my work. I purposefully put it on display in a place where someone, especially her, wouldn’t have to look at it unless they walked over there to see it. I don’t think it is right to invite an artist to show their work and then pick and choose what is acceptable and what isn’t without really consulting the artist.

After spending the day with M. Olivia at Pinochet’s funeral, listening to her stories, accepting her gifts like pin and key chain paraphernalia, and watching her cry as the cannons went off in a final salute to the fallen dictator, I could empathize with why the photo affected her. It still doesn’t make it right, especially if the Café is supposed to be a library and a cultural institution. It definitely made me think about what else is being censored in that institution, in Chile, in the past, or in general.

The Santiago Show - Portraits of Our Children: Still They Keep on Smiling

What a fabulous way to just about end 2006! VE held a publicity event on the 5th of December and I showed a selection of my work from the past year of photographing here. It was a huge night to celebrate and it marked my 1 year anniversary in Chile! VE changed to VEGlobal and unveiled its new name and logo to officially present the organization to Santiago. The presentation included a cocktail and art show held downtown at Café Literario, a library in Providencia that is an incredible space to show. After weeks of planning, getting permission, printing, and pushing through last minute problems, the stress of preparing and hanging a show has finally turned into satisfaction. Yay!

I’m so pleased with how the photography came out, and I owe a ton of thanks to all the people who helped make it happen from Christine Mladic, a fellow photographer and volunteer who contagiously made me laugh instead of go berserk, to the salesman at Lapiz Lopez, who sold me cardboard and glue, to the lady at Wanson Photo who loaned me her pen drive when my CD burner broke and even ran my order over to their competitors print lab and rushed it because they didn’t have the paper size I needed. The biggest thanks of all goes to Daniela though, the Chilean with the magic touch and the most cajones from any girl that I’ve met here. She set up the meeting with SENAME – the government organization in charge of minors and some of the institutions we work with – to show them my photography in person and get permission to have an exposition of the work that I specifically selected. In traditional Chilean fashion, we talked and talked everyone was so open and understanding of the work. They even started dissecting things like lighting, imagery, and reading into the photos. Such a huge difference since the New York show when I didn’t go through these steps to get from point A to point B. Very important.

Retratos de Nuestros Niños: Igual Se Siguen Reindo (Portraits of Our Children: Still They Keep on Smiling) consists of 26 prints (30x40cm) and 18 prints (20x30cm). The first series is a variety of portraits of the kids we work with, moments captured that made me think, where are these kids parents, and if I didn’t take these pictures, who else would in these kids lives? The second series is a group of portraits of just my girls in their bedrooms, their most intimate spaces, where their stuffed animals cover their beds and they write who they love all over the walls. The second series has always been the most controversial because the hogar aims to protect the kids’ privacy. This series is much more serious and intimate. It’s tasteful, but the director and her boss have been cautious to let me share them from the beginning. To see them publicly displayed makes me feel like a huge part of the work I’ve done here has come full circle.

The biggest gift from the exhibition was that the library invited me to show the work until the 18th of December. This month marks the second annual photography festival in Chile. FotoAmerica is the chance to look at and admire miles of images in museums, cultural centers, cafes, galleries and other public spaces from Chilean and international photographers, so it just so happened that it coincided.