A blog by Bill Hess

Running Dog Publications

P.O. Box 872383 Wasilla, Alaska 99687

 

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Wasilla

Wasilla is the place where I have lived for the past 29 years - sort of. The house in which my wife and I raised our family sits here, but I have made my rather odd career as a different sort of photojournalist by continually wandering off to other places to photograph people and gather information, which I have then put together in various publications that have served the Alaska Native Eskimo, Indian and Aleut communities.

Although I did not have a great of free time to devote to this rather strange community, named after a Tanaina Athabascan Indian chief who knew Wasilla in the way that I so impossibly long to, I have still documented it regularly over the past quarter-century plus. In the early days, my Wasilla photographs focused mostly upon my children and the events they participated in - baseball, football, figure skating, hockey, frog catching, fire cracker detonation, Fourth of July parade - that sort of thing. 

In 2002, I purchased my first digital camera and then, whenever I was home, I began to photograph Wasilla upon a daily basis, but not in a conventional way. These were grab shots - whatever caught my eye as I took my many long walks or drove through the town, shooting through the car window at people and scenes that appeared and disappeared before I could even focus and compose in the traditional photographic way.

Thus, the Wasilla portion of this blog will be devoted both to the images that I take as I wander about and those that I have taken in the past. Despite the odd, random, nature of the images, I believe they communicate something powerful about this town that I have never seen expressed anywhere else. 

Wasilla is a sprawling community that has been slapped down hodge-podge upon what was so recently wilderness of the most exquisite beauty. In its design, it is deliberately anti-zoned, anti-planned. In the building of Wasilla, the desire to make a buck has trumped aesthetics and all other considerations. This town, built in the midst of exquisite beauty, has largely become an unsightly, unattractive, mess of urban sprawl. Largely because of this, it often seems to me that Wasilla is a community with no sense of community, a town devoid of town soul.

Yet - Wasilla is my home and if I am lucky it will be until I grow old and die. Despite its horrific failings, it is still made of the stuff of any small city: people; moms and dads, grammas and grampas, teens, children, churches, bars, professionals, laborers, soldiers, missionaries, artists, athletes, geniuses, do-gooders, hoodlums, the wealthy, the homeless, the rational and logical, the slightly insane and the wholly insane - and, yes, as is now obvious to the whole world, politicians, too.

So perhaps, if one were to search hard enough, it might just be possible to find a sense of community here, and a town soul. So, using my skills as a photojournalist and a writer, I hope to do just that. If this place has a sense of community, I will find it. If there is a town soul to Wasilla, I will document it. I won't compete with the newspapers. Hell no! But as time and income allow, it will be fun to wander into the places where the folks described above gather, and then put what I find on this blog.

 

by 300...

Anywhere within a 300 mile radius of Wasilla. This encompasses perhaps the most wild, dramatic, gorgeous, beautiful section of land and sea to be found in any comparable space anywhere on Earth. I can never explore it all, but I will do the best that I can, and will here share what I find and experience with you.  

and then some...

Anywhere else in the world that I happen to get to, such as Point Lay, Alaska; Missoula, Montana; Serenki, Chukotka, Russia; or Bangalore, India. Perhaps even Lagos, Nigeria. I have both a desire and scheme to get me there. It is a long shot. We shall see if I succeed.

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Entries in Ravi (5)

Friday
Jun122009

Time to eat cake

This was where it got very frustrating for me. Remember those two chairs that I asked you to take note of in the previous post? They were about to come into action, kind of like thrones for the bride and groom, but you will see no pictures of this event in this blog at all.

This is because all kinds of people insisted that I go eat dinner. I did not want to go eat. I wanted to stay and shoot. I did not want to miss anything. But I began to feel that by not eating I was being rude. So, finally, I capitulated and went out into the adjoining room, sat down, and ate.

To a degree, I can understand their concern in thinking that it was time for me to stop and take a break, to sit down and eat - as many others were already doing. In this regard, an Indian wedding is much more informal than a western wedding. People wander in and out at will, carry on conversations and break away to go eat.

But back to their concern. If you could have seen me, you would have been concerned, too. I told you how hot it was. Steaming hot. Even the people there said it was hot. Hotter than it was supposed to be. And I was sweating. I sweated and sweated. I soaked my shirt. My hair was plastered to my head.

My sweat dripped into my eyes and stung them, causing my lids to swell a bit. Ganesh and others repeatedly brought me water and lemon juice and, with no exaggeration, I am quite certain that my consumption of these liquids reached into the gallons. And not once did I have to visit the restroom.

I sweated it all away as fast I drank it.

So I can understand the concern, but what they did not know about me is that when I shoot pictures, physical comfort becomes inconsequential. All that matters is that I follow through and do the job I set out to do. Anyone who doubts this just needs to look at my larger body of Alaska work.

If I concerned myself first with comfort, and gave in to discomfort, huge amounts of this work would not exist.

And I have been much, much, much more uncomfortable in the cold than I was in this heat, and for much, much, longer periods of time.

But I hate to be rude. And I began to feel very rude by saying "no," each time someone tried to get me to set aside my camera and go eat.

So I thought I would eat quick, and get back to it.

But the food just kept coming and coming and coming, long after I was filled. And it felt rude to get up and walk away from it.

At times, such as above, I could see a bit of the ceremony from where I sat at the table. So I shot and ate.

Finally, Murthy told me that it was okay to leave my banana leaf, even though the servers kept piling food upon it. "The food will not go to waste," he said. "It will be eaten by the cows, the monkeys, the street dogs..." by all the varied animals that one sees all over in Bangalore, anywhere in India that I have been, walking around with the people, seemingly possessed of as much right as any person.

So, my belly stuffed beyond comfort with food that can only be described as "exquisite," I left my banana leaf behind and returned to the wedding. This was what I found happening when I reentered.

And then there were more blessings, that the bride and groom might live in abundance...

..including blessings from Bhanumati, mother of the bride...

...and the Priest, Sri. Nagesh Bhatt. And yes, when Hindus accept blessings, they do humble themselves.

The bride's parents receive blessings.

Finally, the bride and groom were free to have dinner themselves. By now, most of the guests had eaten. Soundarya took my arm. "I want you to come and eat with us," she said. I was already stuffed, yet I entered the dining room with them, sat down beside her and began to eat again - and to take a few pictures from that position.

And then they did something very familiar to anyone who has attended a standard American wedding: they fed each other cake. And don't be worried that the photographer standing in the background is not going to photograph the cake exchange.

He will stop them, and have them pose like they are eating cake. Here they are, posing.

And then they get back to eating cake for real.

So the wedding ceremony is over... well, sort of... before the night ends, rituals must be performed at the homes of the parents.

Saturday
Jun062009

Moving on with the wedding - parents of the bride bring honor and gifts to the groom and his parents as they prepare to become one family

The wedding continues, but without the bride. She is in a back room, where she changes into a different saree, then waits for the moment when it will be time for her to come to the stage and go through the ceremonies that will unite her with the groom in marriage.

Again, my knowledge is limited. Again, I have spent more time wandering about the net looking for a good explanation of everything, but every Hindu wedding that I found that is somewhat explained varies in significant ways from this one, so I am reluctant to use those explanations here.

As always, if, at any time, someone from the family or wedding party wishes to add information and correct any misinformation that I might write here, I will work that information into this blog.

What was clear was that in this part of the ceremony, the parents of the bride were gifting and honoring the groom and his parents. They gave him gifts and washed his feet.

Soon, they would be one family. Here they are together, on the stage, at the beginning in one of those nice, but brief moments when the floodlight was turned off. There will be a few other such moments.

The floodlight comes back on, the ceremony continues.

Anil's father stand-in holds a flower over his head.

Parents of the bride.

There is much prayer and supplication throughout.

A flame is passed around. Here, the parents of the bride pass it to the father stand-in for the groom.

Father stand-in receives flame.

Parents of the bride present gifts to the groom.

They was his feet.

His mother-in-law to be marks his foot.

 

They bring him holy water.

The groom drinks the holy water.

Now everyone - especially the groom - is ready for the bride to re-enter.

Wednesday
Jun032009

Groom gets cold feet, chickens out, decides he does not want to marry, flees the scene

Oh no! The groom has decided that he does not want to marry, after all. He leaves the marriage hall.

Outside the door, the horn players announce his exit.

The bride's family wants him to go through with the marriage. He takes a seat.

An umbrella is opened above him. He is showered with flower petals.

The flower petals bring a smile to his face.

After the parents of the bride wash and mark his feet, Soundarya's brother, Ganesh, takes the umbrella. Ganesh will also shower Anil with flower petals.

In a demonstration of her respect, Bhanu marks Anil's feet with tumeric powder.

Bhanu and Ravi team up to give Anil still another foot washing.

Will it work? Will Anil decide to stay and go through with the wedding? Maybe he should go to the temple and pray about it.

Wednesday
Jun032009

The wedding moves on, Anil is blessed by the man and the woman who are about to become his parents in law

The wedding takes place on a platform that is raised about two feet above the hall floor. For the moment, the bride is out of the picture. She is elsewhere, changing her saree and getting ready for all that will follow.

The groom is on the platform, along with the priests (orange robes), Soundarya's parents and the man (on the floor, in white) who is the stand-in for his father, who Anil has not seen since he was very small. He will soon be joined by his mother as well.

I get a chance to take a picture, just before the monster flood light is turned on.

Again, I will not try to explain the significance of every event that I show. My knowledge is too small, and I am certain to make mistakes. Today, Sandy emailed me an explanation of the bangles function and I include it at the bottom of this post, as well as with the original bangles post.*

My invitation stands to all my friends and relatives in India who know to explain. I might add that, although I never got a chance in India to ask a lot of questions and record the answers, since I have been home I have gone onto the internet to find them for myself. The problem is, I find multiple explanations for the approximate same events, and see that in each instance, there are variations not only in those explantions but how the events themselves unfold and the manner in which the rituals take place.

Murthy tells me that this is because most people outside of the culture have a misconception of what Hinduism is. In fact, he tells me that Hindusim is not a religion at all, but rather "complete freedom," a guiding philosophy that none-the-less allows its practitioners to do things however they want.

Hence, the parts of a wedding might be carried out one way in one village or neighborhood and in a very different way in the next, or might change from caste to caste. The caste system of old has officially been done away with and discrimination outlawed, although people are very aware of the castes from which they come.

They do intermarry across castes, as this wedding exemplifies. Sandy and Anil originate in different castes.

Ravi in the process of extending blessing upon the man who is in the process of becoming his son-in-law. I feel blessed at this particular moment, as the flood light is turned off just long enough for me to sneak in this one frame shot in the natural light.

The blessing continues.

Bhanu blesses Anil.

Bhanu's blessing continues.

Ravi and Bhanu bless Anil.

And still another - the little wedding in miniature is brought out. It will remain on the platform floor throughout the ceremony.

Where is Anil? Is he getting cold feet? Nah... he couldn't be! Could he?

 

*Soundarya's explanation of the bangles function:

"And about the bangles function, 'turmeric' is considered very auspicious anywhere in India. They say that a woman, right from her childhood has to apply turmeric paste on her body. Medical views - it keeps yor skin soft & glows & also prevents a lot of hair growth on the body. Belief  - turmeric & kumkum (the red powder we put on her fore head?) is considered to very auspicious & when ladies bless the bride with it, it's said that she lives with her husband happily for many years. This fuction is more to do with the Groom as he is blessed to live longer. I don't know how well to put this across but in simple words, 'The married couple should live longer & with each other.' Here in India, a widow shouldn't wear bangles or any ornaments, she is not allowed to decorate her forehead with kumkum & is also asked to wear a white saree to indicate that she's a widow.

"So, now I guess you understand why we have that fuction...to bless the bride, praying for her forever happiness with -bangles, kumkum & turmeric?"

Thursday
May282009

Predawn motorcycle ride to Soundarya's function

Although I was still terribly jet-lagged as a result of the 41 hour trip to Bangalore from Alaska and did not go to bed until nearly 1:00 AM, on the morning of May 10 - Soundarya's wedding day - I arose at 3:00 AM.

There was going to be a "function" at the home of her parents and the auspicious time to do it was before dawn. It would take about an hour to get there by taxi, so Murthy had called the day before and had made an appointment for a cab to pick us up at 4:00 AM.

That cab did not show.

I did not want to miss the function, so, after about 45 minutes of waiting, Murthy fired up his motorcycle, I climbed on behind him and off we went.

We zipped past a man driving a bike with three children as passengers...

...and soon scooted past a man standing in front of a bus with his arms folded...

...we continued on past signs boasting of the Metro that is now under construction, but which one day should make a big impact for the good on Bangalore traffic...

...we shot swiftly through a tunnel...

...and passed a man walking a dog in the early hours...

...and then, just in time, before the dawn, we were in the home where Sandy had been living with her parents. She showed me the temporary wedding henna tattoos that had been painted on to her the night before.

She also wore her bangles. This function would be about bangles.

Soundarya with her dad, Ravi (left) and her Uncle Murthy, just before the function began.