Camille Lepage

  

Camille Lepage in Central African Republic.  AP Photo/Sylvain Cherkaoui, taken from US News

I am completely obsessed with Camille Lepage, the 26 year old photojournalist who was recently killed in Central African Republic.

Camille wanted to show the world about the most neglected conflicts and spend the last two years living in South Sudan and the Central African Republic.

In an interview last year she said, "I want the viewers to feel what the people are going through. I'd like them to empathize with them as human beings, rather than seeing them as another bunch of Africans suffering from war somewhere in this dark continent. I wish they think: 'Why on Earth are those people in living hell; why don't we know about it and why is no one doing anything?' I would like the viewers to be ashamed of their government for knowing about it without doing anything to make it end."

I am not sure what it is that I am drawn to in her work. Maybe its that she took beautiful, often shocking, photos; or maybe its that she worked in countries and on issues that I care about deeply. Maybe its that somehow, she reminds me of myself at 26. I was 26 when I started working for MSF. At the time, I was willing to go anywhere and to do anything to help people in need, particularly those in conflict settings.  Help is a loaded term and probably not the best description of what I was actually doing, but I can't think of a better way to say it, that is truly what I wanted to do. I have changed a lot as a person since then and in some ways better than others, I may be more effective at my work, even more thoughtful and conscientious, but I can get caught so up in skepticism, pragmatism, and diplomacy that I lose my inspiration along the way. In many ways, I miss my 26 year old self and the confidence that I once had.

Some people might say that Camille took too many risks or that she was too young, or even that she died in vein.  I hope they don't. We need more people like her.

Please please please check out her work and learn about the conflicts that she covered in the the New Yorker, New York Times, The Washington Post (here too), AFP and her website.

Our family photos

There are few things that I was really insistent on after having Benoît, but one thing that I really wanted was a professional photographer to come take pictures of the family together. I knew that if we didn't we would only have pictures with either Dave or I in them, but not with both of us. They would also probably all be taken with our phones, which is less than ideal.  We did some initial looking around and found that baby photographers were either really expensive (!)  or were taking pictures that just weren't our style (picture babies in costumes tucked into baskets).

We reached out to Lev Kuperman, our wedding photographer.  He knew exactly what we wanted and took beautiful photos at a really reasonable price.  I was super excited to see that he posted some of our pictures on his blog.  I can't say enough about Lev. He has now shared two very special moments with us, and it just felt right having him come into our home when Ben was so young.  

The view from here (after a month back at work)

Wednesday marks the end of my first month back at work. The first week back I was like, "Yeah!  Its noon and I am already dressed! I am wearing a bra!  With under-wires, no less! I am having adult conversations!" I even went a couple of minutes without thinking about Benoît or anything else baby-related, for that matter.

My mother couldn't have been more right when she called that the honeymoon period. The joy of going back has already been replaced with a love of caffeine, and of the clock striking 5.  But while the romance with work might be over, my love for Ben is still going strong. Yes, I am exhausted, and no, Ben still doesn't sleep through the night. No, my clothes don't quite fit me yet, and yes, pumping is still the pits.  But nothing beats the feeling of coming home to this face every night.

From where I stand, things look pretty good.

You had me at Dakar

Boabab at dawn (Shahidul)

About a month ago, the week before I was set to return to work, my boss called to tell me about a workshop taking place in Senegal at the beginning of may. She was all, "There is this budget tracking workshop in Dakar, it would be so great if you could go, but no... its too early. Forget that I mentioned it, its no big deal.  Sigh.  It would just would be so great if you could go". The truth is that she had me at Dakar. From that point on, it was really more of a question of how to make the trip work with Benoît than whether or not I would go.  Travelling is sometimes the bane of my work existence - it can be really disruptive to my personal life - but it is also one of the parts of my job that I cherish the most, seeing new countries and meeting new people, it also helps me to better understand the contexts in which my colleagues work.  In some respects, my greatest professional asset has been my willingness to travel.  Ever since I got pregnant I have been wondering just how I would balance work with family, so I was eager to figure out how to get to Senegal with a four month old, 100% breastfeeding baby.

I was pleasantly surprised by just how many people were supportive of me travelling. Former colleagues and professional acquaintances were quick to share their stories of traveling with their babies, breastfeeding mid-conference, and to put me in touch with child care options. It was as though every mother that I had worked with wanted to show me that it was not only possible, but rewarding to have a travel-intensive job and have a baby.

Stilt Houses at Niassam (Flickriver)

The only caveat that these travelling mothers had shared was that they had each brought along a travel companion, usually a mother, sister or spouse, to help with the baby while they were away. I resisted this option initially, mainly because of the cost. It seemed crazy to me to have to spend so much money to be able to work, especially if I could do it on my own, so I did the research on going solo: I found flights form New York to Senegal, found a hotel, looked up malaria prevention for babies, found childcare. I started out proud of myself and excited about the adventure, but as more and more logistical details became apparent (would the flight have a bassinet? would the cars accomodate Benoît's car seat? would he tolerate the malaria prophylaxis?) I began feeling like I was just planning on taking the trip alone because I wanted to prove that it could be done, when in reality I was starting to dread dealing with these challenges on my own.

In the end I convinced Dave to come with me. Neither of us have been to Senegal so we're going to make a vacation out of it. You only live once, right?  I am, however, very aware of what a privilege it is to have the ability to bring my husband along with me on a trip like this. I can't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with the knowledge that -let's be honest here- rarely do the salaries from my line of work allow for the spouses, mothers or sisters to come along. One needs an independent source of wealth to make bringing someone along doable. There is still another part of me that knows that doing this trip alone could have been done, but have to admit that it would not have been easy. No matter how much help I would have gotten from my colleagues it would just not be as easy for me to travel with a baby as it is for childless men and women.

Lake Retba (Geekologie)

In the meantime, Dave and I are starting to get super excited: after the workshop we are going to stay at Les Collines Niassam in a house built on stilts over a lagoon. We're looking forward to some fresh Senegalese seafood, to boabab trees (like the one above), a trip to Ile de Goree, and if time permits, a visit to Lake Retba (the pink lake above).  We'll let you know how it goes!