Awe-World - 2000-2023 /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

I have been traversing this planet for all of my life. I was raised in Singapore and Malaysia. Then brought to the west to live in the United Kingdom.  I have spent the last 25 years exploring places most never know of. Recording joy and horror provides a unique experience for the practitioners of documentation; for a moment we become immersed into realities that are opposite to our own. We hover between the worlds of comfort and pain, never quite able to settle in either. The wonder comes with a price, but worth paying to gain entrance into Aweland.

Awe-World are memories of places and peoples who exist, are vanished and reside somewhere in the image ether that lies, suspends time, ignites self-recollections and the imagination of the observer.

 Behold Awe, Wonder and Memory, come with me.      

Caucasus, Georgia /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Travelling through the ancient lands of Georgia in the Caucasus I came across an unusual story, a freedom party against the government called Girchi, had started their own religion to help young men avoid conscription into the Georgian army.  In the Army they were treated like slaves and not trained properly. I met amazing young Georgians who wanted to be independent and start their own businesses, like sex toy shops and garden centres.  Whilst documenting their stories, a huge protest broke out about Russia, who have invade and taken Georgian lands in the past. The conscripts had been armed and fired upon their own people. All hell broke loose. To see trailer for film go to HERE.   

The film has won SIMA (Social Media Impact Awards) 2023 Jury award; to see short version of film go to: https://vimeo.com/manage/videos/758116721 to See SIMA awards go to:https://simaawards.org/2023-winners/

This is Georgie, a young business man, trying to start the first ever sex toy shop online in the country. He has avoided conscription by becoming a Girchi priest. He dreams of a Georgia where even priest can order a dildo from him (which they do), he wants a country where anyone can choose to be whatever they want to be. Hope spring eternal.

At the protest the people wanted their government to not court the Russians, an odd harmony between protesters, police and army occurred, even though they were being shot at, the protesters still helped the ones firing at them. They only saw Russia as the common enemy.

The presence of the press was outnumbered by citizen journalism and the event was up and off into the social media sphere before I could edit and upload a picture, the days of the photojournalist from afar are numbered, and rightly so.

Within any event, one look, expression or gesture can summaries the story of any occurrence, this the decisive moment I saw, not classically formatted but it contains the essence of great narrative. I know him, you have known him, you can relate to him, we are either him or the man-without.

The Un-United States, Ohio to Vegas /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

I travelled to see my younger brother who’s lived in the States for 15 years. I  arrived in Montpellier, Idaho, a little town on the old Oregon trail. I carried my Canon 5d camera with me. I met the town people and The Oregon Trail centre asked me to make a promo film for them. I whizzed up an idea and shot for a day, edited for another and as if by magic a story was told. The joys of travels with your auntie-camera always opens doors to people’s lives. I met the 11th Ohio cavalry group, who re-enact the Oregon trail journey and I got to ride with them. America the great contradiction, born of migration, immigrants and the destruction of the indigenous peoples that lived before the white man landed. Now its slowly falling apart, torn between its gun rights, treatment of its minority peoples and is splitting further in half, the extremes of our badly designed systems boiling up into the war of old and new generations. The world is beginning its phase of death or healing, we either stand together or fall apart into tribal conflict. Tick tock. I drive for 16 hours to Vegas to witness the utopian nightmare that awaits those that live Without and enter and embrace all things shiny.   

The Oregon centre celebrates the arrival of the Pilgrims and the trek across the States to settle the land and start a new world in God’s name. Shame the manifest destiny that gripped those early pioneers did not incorporate how best to treat the people that had lived there before their arrived. The world is built on those who came from Europe to invade and this set the scene for how we live today, with those that believe they are masters and destined for better, built on the devastation they laid, took and neglected. The man-without still holds our futures in the balance. Stay tuned in or they’ll tune us out.

The 11th Ohio ride, desiring to be in the past, escaping to a time they think was better, yet they ride on false memories and herald greatness from their forefathers actions. But they shiver coldly when they see how far we have fallen.

The small town of the States are slowly vanishing, the local cinemas empty, the towns void of atmosphere, the streaming online cultures will vanquish these towns into history to be visited only in VR.

Vegas, the streets tell the story of the freakshow that draws hordes of without-gamblers wanting to get a fix of fantasy, sex, chancing and glitz before Monday call’s them back to slumberville.

Such romance.

The showgirls walk up and down all night, supplementing their day jobs for an easy buck, they entice the hordes of male-withouters to enter the casino’s to get closer to that chance of 1 million dollars and freedom.

Ethiopia /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Working for Save the Children UK, I met young hero’s fighting against the barbaric practise of FGM. These school girls and boys, were risking to fight against the bringers of this horror. They had to be masked to try and save their identities. Amazing the youth quake that is occurring across the planet as children fight to save their futures, which are being undermined by the Man-Without. I filmed their story and was schooled by their bravery in the face of challenging archaic practices.   To see film go to HERE  

Later I travelled to the boarder of Sudan and followed a cold chain supply of vaccine to a remote village to immunise the children.  It was like travelling to a biblical location, where few white’s had been seen. I meet a family and heard their story of woe. I was truly an outsider, my camera equipment could pay to support the families for a year. The extremities of with and without are so severe that in my 30 years of travel it seems the gulf is wider than social media ever. How to connect the world towards an equality of resources that nourishes all? Still perplexed.  To see film go to HERE

The children meet at school to plan their protest actions and how best to show their disdain for FGM.

She is the face of the campaign and started the process of protest, she is 11 years old and prepared to risk all too help. Hail GenZ, they are taking the future on.

Young boys are standing up to their forefathers barbarous beliefs.

This mother had lost 2 children to diphtheria and whooping cough in the last year. She had 5 children, they lived in a basic tented house, migrated to where there was water and since being vaccinated her children have survived thus far. I left these people knowing I would never see them again apart from in the media-unreality-ether the practitioner tries not to drown in.

Her daughter showed me her pride and joy, a baby goat, which was her best friend. The moments we shared becomes some odd frozen tableaux that will exist on the social and media platforms without her ever seeing herself. She becomes campaign iconography; destined to either be swiped past, or she will tweak those that can donate to make a difference. How did it come to this form of needing to plead to the public to save those that are no different than ourselves, just circumstance and a lacking world system means they can never turn on a tap for hot water.

Vietnam and Laos – Mekong River /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

We sailed up the Mekong, along the waters to the inland beauty of Tonle Sap and Songkhla Lake to run media workshops with members of the NGO Mekong River Commission and local journalist.  The trainees had learnt video, film and photography over a week. Then sent out to document using their newly acquired skills.  The participants had traversed from environmentalists into media makers. The film below, shows the work they undertook and the results of their practice. There is nothing more satisfying than empowering those that know the real stories and they tell them from their perspective. Ironically making practitioners like myself redundant, but why should someone not truly attuned to the problems come in try an interpret?

We set sail up the junction to document the problems occurring to the communities living along the Mekong. We would encounter, flash floods, river bandits and thousands of water snakes that came out in the rain. Your typical media workshop!

The perils of working in country needed to be surmounted by bare foot, bailing out boats, and cameras wrapped in bags to float next to us, each time our boats sank. This is my lecture hall.

Cuba /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Havana was the picture postcard and Che aesthetic depicted via the media. The country was so poor, buildings run down, electricity flicking on and off, internet so rare people hook into government servers in local parks. American cars of the 1950’s are everywhere, pristine and add to the surrealist vibe. Did the communist mandate imposed by Fidel work? Some say yes, most I met wanted for extra and healthier. Few places are left in the world now, where time has stood still from decades past. Sooner or later this world will ramp up towards 5G, but what will be lost and found? Tourism will save the day, but also theme park this country towards its healthier, wealthier future.  

Walking Havana at night, doors remain open, Cuban music fills the air, families congregate and people interact, a buzz; the city hum’s with a sense of harmony amongst the poverty. Che and the revolution adorn walls, pictures of him stare down at me at every turn. I used to teach about his iconic portrayal in imagery and its dissemination into pop culture, now I was part of the need to connect to the spirit of fighting against the man-without.

The city people exist with the paradox of the “with and without” which is startling, tourism brings in the wealthy cruise ships brimming with the disposable withouters, ladened down with American dollars ready to purchase their slice of history. The locals drift by and are part of the aesthetic, as if they are fragments for photo-shoot, I click anyway, knowing better.

You can conjure up a 50’s neon sign, but do you dare to follow the glinting arrows that take you into the darken alley ways that lead to the real Cuba?

It’s a time capsule and the people tell me they feel like they are trapped between their heroic past of rebuking America’s influence, but now desiring cherry pie futures.

Namibia /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

A land of animals and nature, too far off the tourist beaten track to be swamped by hotel-terraforming.  You have to hire a 4x4 with an extendable tent on top to travel around and park up in protected areas at night to avoid the lions! Bliss to not be recording the dreadfulness we do. Instead, nature is protected and respected (apart from the odd hunting areas). Namibia is one large nature park and feels like it’s trapped in the 1970’s. Perfect.

Always come prepared with blue plastic flip flops, and a strong gaze and pose, to ward off any razor toothed invader into your camp. Failing that throw the flippers at them and climb up into your tent.

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Just how it should be, asleep while i steal a memory from the 4by4, with the engine running…

The Stans - Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Traveling across the Stans, I encounter the most amazing characters, a cowboy-gal, herding her families sheep’s, trying to earn enough money to escape to the city. An eagle hunter, that uses his birds to capture his and their dinners, the last traditional music maker without an apprentice to learn the dying craft. I meet a girl in a market collecting plastic to earn a dollar a day to keep her mother and bother alive. I travel the infamous Pamir highway, trek into the Hindu Kush, and experience atmospheres that conjure a lost time when one lived off the land and fought the elements for the basics of meat, water, and shelter.  

A five day ride over the mountains and into the land that truly time forgot to Song-kul lake, Kyrgyzstan.

The Pamir Highway traversing through Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan, a road with sheer mile drops, looming mountains of cold and altitudes where no smoker should breath. Surviving the journey, is only half the pleasure. The other half is wanting to come back the way one came.

The Hindu Kush, a village kid, takes me high above his house so I can see into my future, he informs me there be bandits over the horizon, I wink at him and tell him to warn them to be ready.

She is not defined by her gender, she is just a horse person. She rides to help her family herd their animals, they are nomadic and follow the good weather and winds and then sell their stock. She is saving to move to the city and study tourism and leave the sessional lifestyle that has defined her families living for generations. Her younger sisters awaits in the cow-wings to take over.

The eagle hunter and his best friend sit and watch the land for signs of life, a rabbit for lunch. They live in a symbiosis with the land and sky. The eagle could fly away but “he sticks around for the company” the hunter tells me. They are living out their manhoods together.

I stick a GoPro on the eagle, chase after him, as it contemplates if I’m a worthy snack. I show the bird how he looks on camera, his eyes glint at me and seem to smile, he winks and is gone again to perform for the film. Such a pro.

Rutom Masain is the last Tajik traditional music maker. He lives upon a hill looking out over the valley he grew up in. He has no apprentice to teach his skills to. He exists in ever instrument he makes, when he plucks a string it invokes history that is vanishing.

Hw stares off into his past, awaiting someone to teach.

I met her in a market place, she was scurrying around, picking up plastic and rushing off. I asked her what she was doing, she was earning $1 a day for 3 hours work after school. Why, to look after her sick mother and her younger brother. She is now sponsored and studies to become a doctor. Sometimes you have to put down the camera and intervene.

Mosquito coast, Honduras /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

The Garifuna people were washed ashore, African slaves that escaped into a paradise found. Their homes for generations, lining the pristine beaches and warm winds of Honduras. Yet now as ever, their lands are desired by the man-without. He has come to take their estates, their lives, anyway he can. So he can build condominiums for the retiring rich from the States to wallow on the beaches and entertain their like minded “little boxes” friends. I worked with Ofraneh, a Garifuna human rights collective, who are under constant threat from the crooked governance that would have them all vanished. Many have disappeared and their lands been taken. The fight to protect their lands is timeless, is persists and will endure until someone ends the man-without and his need to have at any cost.

To read full story and see the documentary film  - Open HERE

Teresa, freedom fighter, had here house set on fire, her children fleeing just in time. She is melancholy on the surface, but bristles under, but without ways to stop those that pillage she must endure. Imagine.

The beach families are left homeless to watch as their land is built upon, a calmness furnishes the Garifuna to stay relaxed. My fury knows no bound and the day dreams of ending the Man-Without fill my endless travels.

Sabina House School and Atiac Refugee centre - Uganda /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Teaching at a school in Uganda, I came across my first real experience of what it is like to have so little, cherish even less and hope upon anything that it may get better. The kids had HIV, were mainly orphans, but sought wonder in any ray of light that they could see. They learnt fast, perfected quicker and within the shortest time, produced better than others I had wasted 3 years teaching on UK degrees. I was meant to empower them, the truth was opposite.

To see the work they produced click HERE

The refugees from South Sudan had fled the war, to arrive in a camp that was plagued by the LRA (The Lord's Resistance Army) stealing their children, this was the camps official mender of garments, one man to fix a thousand rips.

He was kidnapped by the LRA, but escaped, when they enter the camp, the children run for their lives, or they’ll end up child soldiers, coming back to steal themselves in the future.

The midwives have little medicine or facilities to treat the birthing, there was 1 midwives for 25 thousand people and no hospital for 200 miles. She was the school of birth itself.

Such joy, a radio, a football and we played till the stars came out. Bliss.

My first empowerment workshop, we were all so young and grew up into opposite lives. But still I have contact with those that made it through and into adulthood.

Colombo, Sri Lanka - The Nawam Maha Perahera /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

The Nawam Maha Perahera - Elephant Parade is a spectacular site to behold, yet fraught with issues such as should animals be adorned, ridden, paraded and gawked at? Yet, this event generates a wonderous response from the chattering hordes. Myself, I agree-disagree-agree and find myself torn between what the camera desires and my own belief dictate. Yet upon meeting the elephant dress makers, the owners and spending time with them, I see they love their elephants, they doat and lavish them with a genuine care reserved normally for family. I’m convinced on this occasion and leave the searching animal rights questions for others more worthy e.g. sea world et al.

The elephants dressmaker. His family has for 3 generations cut, sown and blinged the royal robes for these kings and queens to adorn, one man’s craft is to make splendour and he hopes this informs the spectator to respect more than they do.

His family has for generations protected the elephants in their charge, “proud to be akin to an animal” he says “with wisdom that is echoed between us”. He and she have knowledge from cradle to grave, they both the same age and grown up together.

Slowly the morphing from beast to beauty is accepted by the beauty that we beasts must have our entertainment.

The crowd. The joyous moment for any stills practitioner. To walk up to and face the audience directly. To stand brazen and take just 1 frame and walk away. This should all occur in Bresson moment, quickly as, so only those alert will stare down the barrel and stay connected to you forever.

Behold. Splendour and horror astride each other. Click.

Tanglag, Northern Luzon /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Working with Cordillera People’s Alliance (CPA) in the remote northern hills of Luzon, I started to come across western mining companies corruption against the indigenous communities. The people of Tanglag village had fought against the Spanish invaders in the 17th century. They had strip naked in the 1980’s to protest against the Dam projects and now they fight against the corrupt army (working for the mining agencies) who stalk them in the jungle, picking them off slowly.  Immersing into their village and lifestyle, one becomes aware of the great divide between the powers that be and their disdain for those that are aligned against them, trying to preserve their way of life. This is the universal story that persist, driven by desire to obtain more than is needed by exploiting the environment and those that would live harmoniously with it.

Read article on mining in Northern Luzon - open HERE

The community are pinned in by the relentless pressure from the army, who hide in the darkness. People from the village travel in groups to try and resit being apprehended and vanished.

The journey to Tanglag takes one into the cloud mountains, then a trek of a day into forests that hide away this community.

The jungle is claiming back the village, slowly encroaching on the villagers whom are weary of the monsters that lurk just beyond.

Slowly one becomes part of the cause, you start to live as they do, fear, dream and care as they do. The camera often is the barrier that keeps your emotions at bay, but once put down you start to understand the stories more. My water buffalo buddies soon became my best confidants.

The village is a haven of wonder and beauty, surrounded by lush pristine jungle, paradise going to be lost to those that would strip the forest and its lands.

I often dream of what has happened to those I encountered, befriended, supported. One tries to keep contact, promise a return, but time and space moves the past further out of reach. Do they ever find peace?

The elders, look at the camera, knowing the story will not save them. They have that calmness that comes from tolerance, born from maintaining patience which is cherished as and held onto as the weapon that they can control.

Zimbabwe /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Working undercover in Zimbabwe, travelling in and out from South Africa I was tasked to gather information about the awful conditions the people were enduring. Working for a UK charity, I was to follow a large donation of sanitary aid from Jo’Burg to Harare, but the vehicle never made it. I snuck into the Zim, pretending to be a visiting doctor. I spent the next 2 weeks searching for the missing consignment. I recorded information for the BBC and UK nationals and thus begun an insane odyssey into the realms of Gonzoness the likes I had never experienced. To see the documentary film from the experience go to:  http://www.mugabemeandamilliontampons.com/  

The film was selected for film festival worldwide, and is still on the SIMA (Social Impact Media Awards) touring circuit.

Tibet 2005 - 2008 /  by KARIN-BAM STOWE

Traveling into Tibet from Nepal in 2005 I was commissioned by the Tibetan government living in exile in India to document the awful treatment of their people by China.  I was arrested and in imprisoned for 3 days, but freed and deported and told never return, but return I did over 3 years to film, photograph, and witness the receding Tibetan culture, swamped by China and tourists. To watch the film go to: https://www.bamcamera.com/   

The Holy Potala Palace built in 1649, now surrounded by Chinese hoardings celebrating the arrival of trains full of Chinese tourists. Tibetans walk around the palace trying to maintain their spiritual activities amongst the horror.

The older Tibetans pray for Alms, and a return to those days of freedom. Each stare pleads for change, I can only offer the look of knowing that it’s going to get worse and she returns the grimace.

Tibetans from the country, now flock to Lhasa the capitol, their lands destroyed by the Chinese mining. They are reduced to watching their own slow destruction.