August 18, 2008

My time in Africa is coming to a close, as is the summer. By the time I return to the States on Saturday I will be two days shy of working or traveling an entire month straight without a single day off. Between assignments for National Geographic, freelance work and a quick stop in London for an exhibit and meetings with editors, it has been a whirlwind. There will be a week or so to edit and then it is time for goodbyes, packing the car and heading back to the Midwest. Going back to Ohio and school will seem like a vacation, but I have a feeling that I will miss this—as soon as I get caught up on sleep I'll wish I was on the road again, headed somewhere new.

August 12, 2008

Up, up, up. The air gets thin, my breath gets short. My legs keep pumping and I am gasping for breath like a fish out of water but the porters and trackers haven't even broken a sweat. Stupid out of shape mizungu. My feet go numb from the cold once I reach our destination and stop moving.  I am in the Virunga mountains of Rwanda with a team of researchers, escorted by a couple stoic Rwandan soldiers.

It is a beautiful country, tainted by the history of the genocide. During my short stay the people were nothing short of amazing and warm.

As I travelled back to catch a plane out of Kigali, the first thought that flew into my head was, "I've got to come back." Hopefully someday, sooner rather than later.

July 29, 2008

As I board my return flight in New Delhi, I realize this trip seemed to move a lot quicker than Peru. But experiencing India was a wonderful thing. The largest culture shock for me was the transportation. Think the worst near death experience you have ever had driving in the States and imagine it happening every 30 seconds or so over the course of a 5 hour drive. There was a point where my driver decided it would be a good idea to drive down the middle of the road in between two container trucks going more than 50 mph on the highway in the dark with maybe 12 inches to spare on each side.

I began my trip by flying into New Delhi before driving to Agra where I met up with my friend Michael Rubenstein. Michael has been based in Mumbai for almost a year now and was kind enough to keep me out of trouble and show me the ropes a bit. Thanks to him I managed to avoid eating anything that would put me in the bathroom for days and I learned how to put my foot down if anyone tried to take advantage of me.

I got up around 4:45 each morning to catch a tuk tuk (auto rickshaw) over to the Taj Mahal. It is a stunning building that takes more than one viewing to truly appreciate. I was incredibly lucky to actually see some light in the morning, which is a rarity during monsoon season. The touts in Agra are very aggressive and the heat oppressive. India as a whole moves at a mind numbing pace, so after a few hours of shooting each morning I would return to the hotel, completely spent.

There was a small school in the backyard of my hotel and after an afternoon of watching the kids run around during recess I decided to wander over and see if they would let me visit for a bit. After a few minutes of explaining what I hoped to accomplish the powers that be granted permission and a wonderfully sweet woman guided me through the school, classroom to classroom. After a week of being barraged by people, I left the building with a huge smile, completely rejuvenated. The children had such an unbridled enthusiasm and the teachers seemed incredibly passionate, despite the lackluster teaching conditions. This marks the end of my first two-part assignment of the summer. Rumor has it there may be more travel ahead.

            

I turned 22 years old while traveling from D.C. to Peru for my first Geographic assignment. This is at once a dream and a terror for me. My first real day of the National Geographic internship I was so nervous I couldn't eat breakfast. The same went for the day I took the all-night flight down to South America. I saw dawn peek over the horizon upon arriving and I settled into my hotel and then wandered around Cusco, trying to fend off  a bit of altitude sickness. After having lived in Washington D.C. for a few weeks now, coming to a place that is so full of life took me by surprise. There were young people practicing Canco, a traditional Cusco dance, and a couple so caught up in their passion that the rest of the world seemed to melt away. Now I sit in my hotel room listening to the sounds of Cusco. The cars, the horns, the dogs, the beautiful lilting tune of flutes dancing through the streets at night. Tomorrow I will rise early to catch a train to Aguascalientes, where I will settle for the next couple days.

Teenagers practice Canco, a traditional dance in the city of Cusco, Peru.
Photograph by Matt Eich

A couple oblivious to the world.
Photography by Matt Eich

July 13, 2008

               

Today I started working on a web project at Machu Picchu. It is amazing to me how one man's discovery, some 100 years ago, has shaped the history and cultural identity of an entire country. It seems that if a people tried to build a city that would allow them to live as close to their deities as possible—this might be the place.

The morning started early. I tried to beat the crowds and get to Machu Picchu before the sun rose, to no avail. When I arrived (before 6am) the line stretched down the street. The 30-minute bus trek delivered us there before the sun broke over the mountains and a thick fog still hung in the air. On the bus I sat next to a woman who has been a tour guide here for seven years. As we whipped up the narrow, one-lane dirt roads overlooking the valley below, I asked her how often there were accidents. "All the time," she said with a smile, before saying that they were actually very rare.

Loneliness and boredom are two things that can potentially drag me down in a serious way when I'm on the road. On a shoot like this working hours are limited and once you are done for the day it can be hard to stay motivated. After a couple hours of sitting alone in a dark hotel room, I forced myself to get up and do something. Peeking outside, I saw hundreds—if not thousands—of flying insects congregating around the porch light on my fifth floor balcony. Looking like dancing embers rising from a fire, they were beautiful and chaotic. Even if the resulting images don't do the scene justice, it was enough to rejuvenate me and put a smile on my face.

            

July 12, 2008

Today I took the Vistadome train from Cusco to Aguas Calientes. It can get pretty cold in Peru this time of year; I could see my breath on the air as we boarded the train. The sun rose and through the fogged glass revealed an ethereal world passing.

I made pictures as the world whipped by and it all felt like a dream. Upon arriving in Aguas Calientes, I checked into my hotel, and did a recon trip up to Machu Picchu to see what the next few days have in store for me.