The journey up to 12 de Junio allows me to pass through some of Lima’s multiple realities and contradictions. As I travel southward, hills begin to emerge from behind buildings, each with homes nestled up against one another—a city stacked upon itself.
For a glimpse at what I see from my window seat, here’s a sped-up, condensed version of the hour-ish-long trip (the long stretch without movement is from inside the combi, a shared minivan that only leaves for its route once it’s full): first by metro rail to Villa María del Triunfo, and then up, up, up in the combi, past where the city grid ends, to the mountain Ticlio Chico, which thousands of people have made their unlikely home. “Último,” shouts the driver, echoed by the young boy collecting our fares--last stop: 12 de Junio.
For a glimpse at what I see from my window seat, here’s a sped-up, condensed version of the hour-ish-long trip (the long stretch without movement is from inside the combi, a shared minivan that only leaves for its route once it’s full): first by metro rail to Villa María del Triunfo, and then up, up, up in the combi, past where the city grid ends, to the mountain Ticlio Chico, which thousands of people have made their unlikely home. “Último,” shouts the driver, echoed by the young boy collecting our fares--last stop: 12 de Junio.
We've transitioned from projects about family to examining and exploring the community. The girls have taken on the role of investigadoras comunitarias, community investigators, and are using photography to reveal different dimensions and experiences of health in 12 de Junio. Their own stories and perspectives will work in conversation with Lauren’s expertise as a health practitioner, with knowledge and information moving in both directions.
Their first mission was simply to take photographs of people, places, and things in the community they associated with the concepts of healthy and unhealthy. While all are illuminating and imaginative, I am especially drawn to the images where, whether intentionally or by chance, some small piece of the photographer makes it into the frame.
Their first mission was simply to take photographs of people, places, and things in the community they associated with the concepts of healthy and unhealthy. While all are illuminating and imaginative, I am especially drawn to the images where, whether intentionally or by chance, some small piece of the photographer makes it into the frame.
As we sat around the computer Saturday discussing the photos they had just taken, Jezabeth explained that while the first time her feet got in the shot was an accident, she liked the result and tried it again. We discussed the implications—the viewer does not simply see the fact that there is trash strewn on the ground, but also the feet, and thus the physical presence, of the community investigator. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “And also the fact that these are the paths--los caminos—I walk, and they’re contaminated.”
Likewise I’m excited by the images where other children, fellow researchers, are in the frame—whether staged in a sort of performance by the photographer, or captured incidentally by tuft of skirt or sliver of hand.
These are not simply inquiring minds, but bodies too, making their way through their own community to forge new conversations and understandings; to show us what they see, and how they see it.
These are not simply inquiring minds, but bodies too, making their way through their own community to forge new conversations and understandings; to show us what they see, and how they see it.