Today it seems the dictatorship ended only recently….

A newspaper front page shows a dog participating in the demonstrations in Chile. It seems that anything can happen these troubled days around the world, so between slogans and statements it makes sense to write a blog about street dogs and demonstrations.

“Free quality education.” – Student movement
“Nothing is free in life.” – President Sebastian Pinera
“Education should not be for profit.” – Student movement
“Gang of useless subversives.” – Carlos Larrain, president of the ruling party
“We don’t need mediators, and especially not from the Catholic Church.” – Camila Vallejo, student leader.
“It’s going to fall, it’s going to fall….the education of Pinochet.” – Demonstrators.
“Education is a commodity.” – President Pinera.
“The government exaggerates the students’ claims to demonize them.” – Mario Waissbluth, expert on education.
“The only thing they [the demonstrators] want to do is destroy the country and us.” – Chile’s National Police.
“I’m a gardener and I want my son to be an engineer.” – Street graffiti.

With the camera on manual mode, shutter speed 1/1000, and my view limited by a gas mask, my 70-200mm lens changes focus with agility and it seems most often to lock on a dog running in and out of its view trying to capture a water jet aimed by riot police at hundreds of student protesters of diverse origin, all of them united under the conviction that a better education in Chile is possible.

The dog has its own battle. As the size of the demonstration grows and the police clash with protesters, the dogs’ excitation and desperation to grab the water jet increases. Street dogs that no one has ever trained or even thrown a Frisbee or a stick to, cannot remain indifferent. They enter the fight.

Although of mongrel origins, as they stand on the side of the demonstrators they suddenly become classified as of the “subversive” race. With their three years of age equivalent to 21 in human terms, their organization and attributes impress. But in exchange they receive only chemical-laced water.

From my position their battle seems obvious and focused, with no turning back. To them, the water jet is not impossible to capture and they prove themselves dedicated to the fight. These dogs want training as much as a Frisbee, and it’s not just for themselves but for the other street dogs in the neighborhood, in Santiago, or in all of Chile.

Minutes after the earthquake in his hometown of Constitucion on February 27, 2010, Emilio made the decision to escape the looming waves with his family by boat upriver, away from the river’s mouth. In the dark of night and the panic of the moment his father and son, Emilito Jose, were the first to climb into the boat. But before the rest of the family could follow them the mooring ropes snapped and they were dragged away by the current.

Emilio trusted his father’s experience and was sure that they would be fine. Together with his mother and wife, Sofia, he climbed into their other boat and headed upriver. “The noise was like helicopters hovering above us.” That was the noise of the advancing first wave as it destroyed everything in its path.

The boat overturned and they found themselves in the water, swimming through pieces of wood and giving it all they could to reach the bank. “Mom begged me to leave her in the river. She couldn’t swim anymore and just wanted to rest. I thought about leaving her to help Sofia, but I thought, she is young and Mom is old. I began thinking, if I had to choose between saving Sofia or Emilito Jose I would save him.” As we talked, a year after the disaster, next to us Sofia lowered her head in silence.

Emilio managed to help both his mother and his wife out of the river, and began searching for his father and son, trusting in their safety. He roamed about with only a vague idea of the level of destruction around them. Emilio’s life was changed forever.

“I feel responsible. I made the decision to escape that way.” Emilio spoke with the voice of guilt. His father and son lost their lives in the waves of the tsunami, the boat destroyed. The following day Emilio found his father’s body and hugged it tightly. “Where is Emilito, Dad!?” The answer was cold silence.

The river is the family’s sustenance. For decades they have transported passengers in their two boats. Now the river keeps the body of the small boy, leaving Emilio even more tethered to its waters.

“I feel it in here, a pain that never ends,” he said with his hands on his chest.

Now, on the bank of the Maule River, Emilio compulsively builds a small dock for his new boat. He works tirelessly to finish it. Like a bridge to nowhere, the dock is an invitation to ungrudgingly face its waters, and a constant reminder of the unforgettable.

Today Emilio and Sofia have a new daughter, Emilia. He fondly observed the two-month-old. “Sometimes I feel guilty for experiencing joy.”

The “man with the dog” that I photographed soon after the tsunami no longer exists. That out-of-focus person roaming Constitucion like a specter, died with his loved ones.

“I will rest only the day I die,” he says. That’s the ghost of Emilio talking.

“All 33 of us are fine in the shelter.” My family lunch ends abruptly as we see the slip of torn paper on live television. The miners are alive 17 days after their tunnel collapsed 700 meters underground. Six hours later I’m in Camp Hope far from our lunch table photographing the families celebrating. The families learn to laugh again.

A day photographing at Camp Hope soon becomes a routine so natural I feel like part of the neighborhood. I park my car, grab my cameras, and greet the families who are also part of the landscape. I greet Maria and Elizabeth, sisters of trapped miner Dario Segovia, who are conversing and joking with everyone around. Photographers gather in front of their awning to cover reactions to whatever is the news of the day. Together with them is Cristina Nuñez, fiancee of miner Claudio Yañez, who proposed marriage to her through a message sent from the depths of the mine. She accepted immediately. They’ve already been together for a lifetime. Cristina is boisterous and likes to be noticed.

]]> http://blogs.reuters.com/ivan-alvarado/2010/12/17/made-in-chile/feed/ 1 http://www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE68G4QW20100917?feedType=RSS&feedName=everything&virtualBrandChannel=11563 http://blogs.reuters.com/ivan-alvarado/2010/09/17/first-rescue-drill-reaches-trapped-chile-miners/#comments Fri, 17 Sep 2010 20:24:24 +0000 Ivan Alvarado http://blogs.reuters.com/ivan-alvarado/2010/09/17/first-rescue-drill-reaches-trapped-chile-miners/ COPIAPO, Chile (Reuters) – The first of three rescue drills on Friday reached 33 Chilean miners trapped for six weeks half a mile (0.80 kilometer) underground, but it will still take weeks to widen the shaft enough to extract the men.

The miners will be helping their own cause by clearing away the debris that falls into the mine as the drill bores through the mine’s ceiling.

“From now on, we’ll need their help because we’re beginning a perforation where we need to remove material from below,” rescue chief Andre Sougarret, manager of state copper giant Codelco’s El Teniente mine, told state television.

In one of the most challenging mine rescue operations anywhere, engineers are boring successively wider holes using two drills to reach the miners stuck since the August 5 in a tunnel 2,300 feet below ground after a cave-in, and have erected a third normally used to drill for oil.

Chile’s Navy has designed a pod that will be used to winch the men to the surface one by one after the bore hole reaches two feet in diameter — just bigger than the width of a man’s shoulders.

Chile’s government brought in a team of NASA experts to help keep the men mentally and physically fit during the protracted rescue bid. They lost an estimated 22 pounds (10 kg) each during the 17 days before they were found alive.

The miners were initially sent high energy foods to boost their strength, and they are now in good health. Nutritionists are preparing traditional meat pies to help the men celebrate Chile’s bicentennial on September 18.

Though the miners’ families may also celebrate the bicentennial of Chile’s independence, they are mostly thinking about the operation to free their loved ones.

Meanwhile, the miners’ family members gathered in a settlement at the mine they call “Camp Hope” are celebrating the holiday with renewed joy, setting up make-shift grills and sharing a traditional festive lunch donated by concerned countrymen.

“Today more than anything we’re celebrating because we know the drill has broken through,” said miner Claudio Acuna’s relative Cecilia. “And that’s what we’re celebrating as a family.”

(Writing by Brad Haynes; Editing by Simon Gardner and Philip Barbara)

Rescuers are now sending fresh clothes, medicine and games down a 2,300 feet bore hole the diameter of a grapefruit to help keep the men physically and mentally fit for the grueling wait ahead.

The government has asked NASA and Chile’s submarine fleet for tips on survival in extreme, confined conditions, and are looking to send them space mission-like rations.

Health Minister Jaime Manalich said rescue workers had managed to finish a second narrow bore hole which will be dedicated to channeling drinking water to the miners and keeping communications flowing.

They are also preparing to drill a vertical shaft around 2 feet in diameter to evacuate the miners one by one via a pulley. The full scope of the wait has not yet been broken to the miners.

“It looks like we need to convince them they will have to wait three months, to the end of November,” Manalich said.

“We expect that after the initial euphoria of being found, we will likely see a period of depression and anguish,” the minister said. “We are preparing medication for them. It would be naive to think they can keep their spirits up like this.”

The miners and their relatives are exchanging letters via the shaft, a crucial part of maintaining their mental health.

“You have no idea how much my soul ached to have been underground and unable to tell you I was alive,” trapped miner Edison Pena said in a letter to his family. “The hardest thing is not being able to see you.”

Fellow miner Esteban Rojas promised his wife he would finally buy her a wedding dress as soon as he gets out, and hold a church marriage ceremony, 25 years after they wed in a registry office.

Officials are vetting letters sent by relatives, to avoid any shocks. Some disagree with the method.

“It’s very important for the miners’ mental health that they communicate openly with their families, and without filters, either by letter or by phone,” said Claudio Barrales, a psychologist at the Universidad Central in Santiago.

Trapped miners’ relatives, who have been living in plastic tents at the mine head in a makeshift settlement dubbed Camp Hope, are gradually returning to their normal lives, but some are drawing up rosters to take turns being at the mine.

WEIGHT LOSS

The miners have lost around 22 pounds (10 kg) each after having survived on half a glass of milk and two mouthfuls of canned tuna every 48 hours until supplies ran out.

The men sent samples of water from underground tanks that have helped them to survive to the surface for testing, and rescuers are sending down fortified mineral water.

The miners are in remarkable health, and have stripped off their shirts to cope with the heat.

Officials are looking for ways to help ease psychological pressure and plan to set up special lighting in the tunnel to mimic night and day, with dull red lights to help the miners sleep. They are also going to send down games like cards.

Until now, the miners have used vehicle batteries to power lights and charge their helmet lamps.

Two small tremors shook northern Chile early on Wednesday, but witnesses at the mine head said they did not feel them at ground level. It was unclear if the miners, who are 4.5 miles inside the winding mine, were jolted.

The nation is still recovering from a devastating February 27 quake — one of the biggest ever recorded — and ensuing tsunamis, which killed more than 500 people and ravaged cities, roads and industries in south central Chile.

The accident in the small gold and copper mine has turned a spotlight on mine safety in Chile, the world’s No. 1 copper producer, although accidents are rare at major mines. The incident is not seen having a significant impact on output.

President Sebastian Pinera has fired officials of Chile’s mining regulator and vowed to overhaul the agency.

Analysts say the feel-good factor of finding the miners alive, coupled with the government’s hands-on approach, could help Pinera as he tries to push through changes to mining royalties that the center-left opposition had shot down.

(Additional reporting by Antonio de la Jara, Maria Jose Latorre, Juana Casas and Molly Rosbach; writing by Simon Gardner; editing by Anthony Boadle)

Engineers are working to install a big drill to dig out the miners, found alive on Sunday. They face an up-to-four-month wait for rescue in a hot, humid tunnel half a mile deep, a wait they have yet to be told about.

Witnesses at the mine head said the tremors were not felt at ground level. It was unclear if the miners, who are 4.5 miles inside the winding mine, 2,300 ft vertically down, were jolted.

The nation is still recovering from a devastating February 27 quake — one of the biggest ever recorded — and ensuing tsunamis, which killed more than 500 people and ravaged cities, roads and industries in south central Chile.

Miners and their relatives are exchanging letters via a narrow shaft the width of a softball, a crucial part of maintaining their mental health.

“You have no idea how much my soul aches to have been underground and unable to tell you I was alive,” trapped miner Edison Pena said in a letter to his family.

“The hardest thing is not being able to see you.”

Fellow miner Esteban Rojas promised his wife he would finally buy her a wedding dress as soon as he gets out, and hold a church marriage ceremony, 25 years after they wed in a registry office.

Officials are vetting letters sent by relatives, to avoid any shocks. Some disagree with the method.

“It’s very important for the miners’ mental health that they communicate openly with their families, and without filters, either by letter or by phone,” said Claudio Barrales, a clinical psychologist at the Universidad Central in Santiago.

LIFE GOES ON

Trapped miners’ relatives, who have been living in plastic tents at the mine head in a makeshift settlement dubbed Camp Hope, are gradually returning to their normal lives, but some are drawing up rosters to take turns being at the mine.

Rescue crews are sending hydration gel, soup and medication through the narrow bore hole to keep the miners alive during the long rescue effort.

An intercom has been set up, and mini entertainment devices may be sent down the hole to help ease the pressure.

To avoid hurting morale, officials have not yet told the miners how much longer they will likely be underground.

But many people think they deserve to know.

“It’s always good to know,” Commodore Ronald von der Weth Fischer, head of Chile’s submarine fleet, told Reuters from aboard a submarine in the port city of Valparaiso late on Tuesday.

“I’d recommend keeping communication flowing, so that they are connected to the outside world. They should hear the news, know what’s going on with their favorite soccer teams, to create a feeling of normalcy.”

Engineers hope to start drilling the escape shaft by the weekend. They are building a concrete platform on which to erect the drill, which will bore a vertical shaft around 2 feet in diameter. The plan is to use a pulley and cage to evacuate the miners one at a time once the shaft is complete.

Chile’s government has turned both to navy submariners and to NASA for survival tips, and wants to send the men high-nutrient, space mission-like rations.

The miners have lost around 22 pounds (10 kg) each after surviving on half a glass of milk and two mouthfuls of canned tuna every 48 hours until supplies ran out.

The men have sent samples of water from underground tanks that have helped them to survive to the surface for testing, and rescuers are sending down fortified mineral water.

The miners are in remarkable health, and have stripped off their shirts to deal with the heat.

Officials are looking for ways to help ease psychological pressure, and plan to set up special lighting in the tunnel to mimic night and day, with dull red lights to help the miners sleep. They are also going to send down games like cards.

The accident in the small gold and copper mine has turned a spotlight on mine safety in Chile, the world’s No. 1 copper producer, although accidents are rare at major mines. The incident is not seen having a significant impact on Chile’s output.

President Sebastian Pinera has fired officials of Chile’s mining regulator and vowed to overhaul the agency.

Analysts say the feel-good factor of finding the miners alive, coupled with the government’s hands-on approach, could help Pinera as he tries to push through changes to mining royalties the center-left opposition had shot down.

(Additional reporting by Antonio de la Jara, Maria Jose Latorre and Molly Rosbach; Writing by Simon Gardner; Editing by Jerry Norton)

Constitución, March 1 – An earthquake survivor carries the dog that he rescued from the ruins of his home, along a street devastated by the earthquake and tsunami.

“Take my picture with the dog,” the survivor tells me. I take it as if ordered to, and see that his face shows tremendous pain. “I lost my home, the sea took my son and my wife, and this is all that was left. I can’t leave the dog here. He was my son’s.” He pauses. “I found my wife (alive), but my boy is still missing.” Before he finishes speaking I lower my camera and cry. I walk together with him thinking what to say to lessen his suffering, but there is only silence.

I never sent this poorly-focused photo of the earthquake survivor. The preconception of what makes a good photograph, the aesthetics, the layers of composition, and the sharpness or lack of it, all became reasons not to choose it. It was some time later when I realized that the sadness of the out-of-focus man with his pet is still transmitted as pain and devastation even through the picture’s technical defects, and banishes all the photographic concepts I hold true in my own little world. I blame Reason for overcoming Emotion.

Technically the photograph isn’t good but, all modesty aside, I think it’s the best photo I took. Today, it’s clearer than ever to me that in editing a story we don’t always show all we’ve seen, and that we never stop learning in the process.

I feel fortunate that this was the only person I encountered who had suffered a death first hand in Constitución.  I like to believe that we never met again while roaming the same streets because he eventually found his son. 

The photo of the man with his dog was never sent to the news media, but nevertheless it is the earthquake image that remains engraved in my mind out of the 3,645 shutter clicks that my camera registered.

Every form that I have ever imagined devilish beings to take are banished from my mind when this Devil appears. He has become a 7-day diarrhea that “devoured” the life of the child. Is it easier to explain death in the hands of a demon instead of looking around and thinking that it might have been the lack of water, hygiene and food that snatched the life?

The destitution of the Haitian people hits me everywhere I turn. In none of the camps I visited is there a face that doesn’t show the mark of poverty. “The city looks like it was bombed,” says the security expert who accompanies me daily. There is no building, house or street that doesn’t show the effects of nature’s strength. They really were bombed – bombarded by political violence, illiteracy, unemployment, AIDS and extreme poverty. The quake did nothing more than expose to the world the indigence of an entire nation.

The three-day-long Mass held to remember the earthquake’s first month moves me in every way. Without realizing it I find myself swaying to the rhythm of the music sung by the throng of mourners dressed in white. The innocent faces of children contrast brutally with the cold stares of looters on Route National #1, the scene of the most dramatic images of the disaster.

In front of the ruins of the Government Palace the plastic sheeting and cloth are slowly being replaced by brick and wood. Probably in a matter of months these camps will become shanty towns built from quake debris turned back into walls and roofs. The debris already has a recognized value.

“We don’t want more rice. The world has raised millions of dollars and all we get is rice,” screams a man as he tries to get others to follow his lead in blocking the route to the airport with sticks and stones. In just minutes riot police arrive to clear the road. The demonstrators disperse but the yells of people in the camps all along the route continue in unison, “No more rice!”

The food distribution tickets are by coincidence red, “the Devil’s color,” one man says to me echoing fears that the Devil is present. “Today we pray to God. Anyone caught practicing voodoo in these ceremonies will be executed by the people.” The feeling is unanimous. Voodoo is prohibited for now. The looks of fear and the insecurity of my motorbike are the best reasons to continue on without inquiring.

I come across a fight over four wooden posts. A blow to the head is the raw sign that the fight will be savage. My reaction isn’t as fast as my camera shutter, that in an instant captures the desperation in the face of someone who, having nothing, fights for something. The posts seem enough reason to kill a neighbor. They mean the difference between living exposed to the elements, or in precarious privacy.

News of a birth in a garbage dump affects me deeply. I’m convinced that it will be the mission of this child and thousands like him to bring change to Haiti. It will take more than one generation to change its course and start over from scratch.

I leave for the border with the Dominican Republic with a strange feeling, one in which I had the chance to give or do something but wasn’t able to do either. My photographs are the best way I know to give, in my capacity as witness to the misery that the Haitians are suffering.

I take with me many questions and no answers. At night I hear the screams of the people in the obscure camps. I can only think that these are days in which we all fear the Devil.