There’s no video of my visit to Saeraghi Village on the island of Gizo in The Solomon Islands. I purposely left the camcorder in my hotel room.
Why? Because, as I alluded to in the video above, I was having difficulty shooting video of people I didn’t know. A lot of anxiety and mental distress. Was I being a coward? Was I being an asshole, carting around the camera, stealing people’s souls, as some Native People have said (purportedly)? Sometimes I would feel I was being exploitive, shooting video, capturing audio, without letting people know in advance that I was coming.
So knowing that I was going to visit this idyllic spot in advance, I thought, why put myself through the mental ringer over what to shoot, whether or not to shoot, how to get permissions, and more? Why not solve all these “problems” by simply leaving the dang thing at home?
Which is what I did. Magic ensued.
The journey from Gizo Town was spent in the back of a flatbed truck. I had asked around and learned that this one truck goes to the village early in the morning and comes back later in the day. Just pay the driver a few bucks. Not a municipal bus or anything. Just a rough and tumble truck traversing the tiny island of Gizo on dirt roads with patches of grass in the middle. Through villages and jungle. In my mind, this was the farthest I’d ever been from “civilization.” And remember, this was 1993. August. No internet or cell phones.
The driver stopped and indicated this was where I should get off. He pointed in the direction of a trail that led into the jungle. No signs posted. I headed toward the path, trusting that Saeraghi Village would be at its end. This island was very small, I remembered. Walking in any direction would take me to the ocean in a matter of minutes. I simply trusted all was well.
Within 10 minutes the storied crescent-shaped beach materialized before me. Some figures by the shore noticed me. They began to run towards me. Children, I thought. They’re coming to greet me!
And they did. With smiles and “hello”s and happy faces. I was at ease. And, oh so grateful to not be pulling out my video camera. This moment was for me to absorb in the moment. This was about being present. This was about looking into their faces, smiling, laughing, connecting. One fellow spoke better English than the rest. He wanted me to stay and meet his family. (I wish I’d taken him up on the offer. Wish I could remember his name. He joined in on the f un a little later than the first group of greeter. Here we are in August 1993.)
I showed postcards of Chicago’s skyscrapers to these kids. And a photo of my two cats, Bobo and Cyd. The kids were duly impressed. They invited me to get into their hollowed out canoe. I capsized immediately. Big laughs.
For years, I’ve loved the photos I took of these kids (above.) And when I came across a Facebook page related to the Solomon Islands – probably thanks to AI magic – a thought came to me. Why not send this photo to someone in The Solomons who might be able to identify the kids and show the photo to them today? Here’s what I posted.
Here’s the link and comments that led to the “reunion.”
Big thanks to Sina Adrian and Mati Patteson Pitu for pulling it all together. It was Sina’s idea to organize the grown up kids for the 21st Century photo shoot. And now I have names!
Oh yeah. One last thing. Sina and Mati got video too.
Tema Hola
Peter Mola
Nerolyn Noi
Allen Sonny
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