Trash Life

The variety of different lives humans live becomes glaringly apparent when walking through a garbage dump in a developing country. A life unimaginable by most, is lived daily by thousands of individuals struggling to survive. A world wrought with disease and often run by organized crime, it is a story that more closely resembles science fiction than any reality western eyes have seen.

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As peasants and farmers head to urban centers, they are often unprepared for the life they are about to experience. Tales of wealth and plentiful jobs often turn out to be illusions and the skills that have helped them survive in rural environments are generally insufficient to sustain them in the complex and competitive cities. To make matters worse, most do not have the financial means to return home once they realize they are in over their heads.

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Hunger, need for small amounts of money or shelter are a few of the reasons why people end up working and living in dumpsite communities. What is normally thought of as a quick fix to an immediate problem can become an entire way of life, often for generations. As awareness of this issue spreads, new schools are popping up in these communities as well as laws which aim to prevent children from working in the dumps.

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Within the sites, work is highly organized and each person has his or her own job. After usable items have been collected, they are taken to small shacks that line the perimeters of the dumps. The items are weighed and separated into groups, copper is pulled out of wires, glass removed from light bulbs and all recyclable material is gathered and separated. The scavengers are usually paid by the weight of what they bring in.

The organized crime aspect of the business dictates who can take garbage from where, how much they are paid and enforces brutal and often lethal consequences for those who break the rules. Assassinations and turf disputes occur on a regular basis and most governments steer clear of involvement. Add disease, injury and exposure to toxic chemicals to the list of dangers that face the dumpsite workers.

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Despite this, the spirit of the workers shine through. Their kindness and warmth in letting me in to document their lives was astounding. Children are children and it was not uncommon to see them take a break from their grueling work to hike up a mountain of trash at sunset or have a garbage throwing fight…it was also not uncommon to see their pain and the weight of their existence bearing down on their shoulders.

Images shot in Cambodia, The Philippines and Mexico

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IRAQ DETAINEES

An Iraqi man sits in a chair in small wood shack with no windows and little ventilation। A torn shirt blindfolds his eyes and his wrists are tightly bound with plastic, military handcuffs। He sits perfectly still even as he hears the door open।

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An American soldier sits in front of the man and pulls off his blindfold as his eyes struggle to adapt to the light। “What were you doing walking along the highway? Don’t you know that is a restricted area?” After a masked Iraqi translator speaks to the man in Arabic he replies “my car was broken down, I had to walk.”

“We found nearly four thousand US dollars in your pocket, why do you have so much money” asks the interrogator। “I own a computer shop। I had to go and pick up a shipment in another city, there are receipts for my order along with the money” the man responds। The soldier is getting frustrated and obviously does not believe the man। “That’s bullshit, no one carries that much cash…what were you doing with that money? Is it for weapons, are you buying weapons।”

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As the man shakes his head, the translator begins to explain to the interrogator that most Iraqis do not have bank accounts or credit cards and actually do most of their business in cash. That, and the fact that with only one hour a day of electricity, few banks are even open. The story does not seem to sink in and the interrogator continues on the same path for quite a while, before finally realizing that the mans story will not change.
Another soldier uses a biometric device to scan the man’s retina, fingerprint and enter his personal data on the small screen. I walk outside with the interrogator. I ask him what will happen next and he replies “we don’t have anything on him, we will probably just release him tomorrow if we cant get anything else out of him.”

The next day the man is driven back to where he was picked up and given back his money and personal belongings. I ask the interrogator how many detainees they bring in each day and what percentage, in his personal opinion, are actually guilty. “Sometimes we only bring in a few guys a day, sometimes we can take in a couple hundred. In my opinion, less than 1% of them have done something wrong.”

A couple of weeks later while stationed at another base with a different platoon, I find out that a group of detainees are about to be released. Although formally forbidden to take photos of ANY detainees under ANY circumstances, I am close with the unit and they invite me along.

The detainees, still blindfolded and cuffed are led into a convoy of armored vehicles. We set out to drop the men off in the area that they had been taken into custody the day before. It is about a fifteen minute drive and the sun is beginning to set.

“This is it, this is where we picked them up” says one of the soldiers as the convoy pulls off to the side of the road in a residential neighborhood. The detainees are led out of the vehicles and lined up against a wall. Their blindfolds are taken off and when the men realize that they are being released they begin to cry with relief. They look absolutely exhausted, their clothes filthy and torn with a look of fear and confusion on their eyes.
As the soldiers escort the detainees back to their homes, a crowd of friends and relatives begins to gather on the streets. There is screaming, crying and hugging as the community sees the missing men are alive. Two women faint and are held up by their husbands and sons.

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One man starts screaming in English “why did you do this? Why did you take them? They are graduate students at the University. These are not terrorists they are students! Why did you take them? What did you do to them?

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In Iraq, if someone does not come home by nightfall, the family fears the worst. When they have not returned by the next morning, they assume that their loved ones are dead. When finally reunited, it is a truly emotional experience. When detainees are held indefinitely, the family often never knows they were taken into custody and assumes they have been killed and that they will not see them again. Under the US Patriot Act, detainees can be held indefinitely without any trial or any opportunity to speak with or notify their families.

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