The pictures that follow are from St. Trinite music camp in Cange, Haiti, about two hours outside of Port-au-Prince.  The camp is held for three weeks every summer, but since the 2010 earthquake destroyed the original camp facilities in Leogane, the camp has been held on the campus of Zanmi Lasante, a medical facility in Cange. There’s not enough indoor space to accommodate the different groups (chorus, band, orchestra) so rehearsals are often held outside. These photos attempt to capture life at the camp. These pictures do not show the destruction of the 2010 quake, or the general conditions of life in Port-au-Prince and other affected areas, nor the effects of the cholera epidemic spreading in Haiti, and thus shouldn’t be taken as a complete view of life on the island. But perhaps the pictures can show that not every aspect of life in Haiti is uncompromisingly bleak.

My college friend Scott Harrison has been volunteering at a childrens’ music camp in Haiti for several years. We’d talked about me going down to document some of what they were doing, but I hadn’t heard much from him about it for a while. One day this July he texted me that he’d talked to the camp organizers and they were OK with me coming down. I asked when the camp was, figuring I had a month or two lead time. Turns out Scott was heading down on that Friday. I’m glad I tagged along.

A Haitian music teacher focuses her attention on the horns during band practice while other students look on.

With space at a premium, rehearsals take place in children’s playgrounds, which also serve as drying areas for laundry.

Local youths play a card game at the entrance to Zanmi Lasante compound while the percussion campers have an outdoor rehearsal.

Cange experiences frequent storms that are likely to knock out power to the whole camp, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. When the power goes out in the middle of recital, hand-held flashlights allow the show to go on.

A camp staffer holds back the crowd while a couple dances in front of them at the weekly dance at the camp.

Choir students practice in the church on the Zanmi Lasante campus.

Campers cheer on as volunteer teacher Kelsey Klopfenstein takes her turn in the center of the dance circle at the weekly camp dance.

A boy rests on his cello while waiting for his recital.

Space is at a premium in the camp, and there are only two pianos. Choral practices, which need the piano accompaniment, are held in cramped rooms as a result. In between rehearsals, camp staffers have a chance to use the pianos for preparation.

Students rehearse outside the volunteers’ dorm at Zanmi Lasante.

Girls relax on the steps up to the Zanmi Lasante church while kids play soccer in the dirt yard at the center of the complex.

Children juggle a soccer ball while students from the music camp look on, during a break from rehearsals.

The weekly concerts and recitals can go on for upwards of three hours, and the children in attendance have trouble hiding their boredom at points.

Two music students prepare for their recitals inside the church at the Zanmi Lasante campus in Cange, Haiti.

Children observe performances of students from the St. Trinite music camp from the balcony of the church on the campus of Zanmi Lasante, Cange Haiti.

One of the volunteer choral teachers dances with a student at the weekly camp dance in Cange.

A tuba player is reflected in his instrument during band rehearsal.

Without classrooms, teachers are forced to improvise. Notes from a music theory class are visible on the side of a wall which doubles as a chalkboard, as a student practices cello.

Camp students compete to see who can hold their breath underwater the longest in a nearby swimming hole.

A view through the valley into the surrounding countryside from the campus of Zanmi Lasante in Cange, Haiti.

Boys will be boys. Sniping with the flute during a break in practice… (1 of 2)

…but unlike most American kids, this student holds his imaginary rifle very much in the same way that the UN peacekeepers that continue to patrol the country do.

Flirting is as prevalent among students as you’d expect anywhere else.

Lightning strikes in the distance as a camper studies music theory. Afternoon storms frequently roll through the area, disrupting rehearsals.

Storms having washed away the previous night’s rehearsal, the band is forced to rehearse under a tarp during another storm or fall hopelessly behind schedule for the weekend concert.

Storms having washed away the previous night’s rehearsal, the band is forced to rehearse under a tarp during another storm or fall hopelessly behind schedule for the weekend concert.

With rehearsal over but band members pinned down by torrential rains, an impromptu jazz session breaks out among the brass students, with volunteer percussion teacher Greg Riss keeping time on a music stand.

A child knocks water out of a tarp covering a tent at Zanmi Lasante during a rainstorm.

The camp orchestra plays during the weekly concert, as onlookers capture the action with modern technology.

A camp teacher watches a student perform her recital from the balcony of the church on the Zanmi Lasante campus.

A student smiles with satisfaction after completing her recital on violin.

Volunteer teacher Sarah Lemon, center, leads a choral concert at the Zanmi Lasante church.

dancing in the rain

Photo: an hour east of Kirov on the No. 2 Rossiya train, the day after I left Moscow. This was shot looking out the back door of the last train car, but if you knew that Russian trains roll on the right-hand side, you already knew that. Chinese trains run on the left.

“When can you start?”

In April of 2011 I had been offered a new job. It was a big deal – the economy was rough, my current job had all but burnt me out, and I felt lucky to get a new opportunity in such a tough climate.

But when I was asked for my start date, I hesitated. Most people at the new place that had moved over had taken a week or less.

I decided to push it.

I asked for a month.

They said fine.

I asked for that time not so I could sit on my ass in Chicago for a month, tempting as that may have sounded. Instead, I had decided I needed to take a trip that wouldn’t be feasible in normal vacation periods (one or two weeks, max). Many of my lifelong travel dreams like Japan and Kilimanjaro all fit into that one-to-two week window, so I decided I’d have to make them wait a bit longer.

There was another memory from my childhood that resurfaced: looking at place names in my atlas like Novosibirsk and Krasnoyarsk and wondering what it must be like to live in a city so far from an ocean. (The presence of Lake Michigan here in Chicago made me forget that I already knew exactly what that feels like).  More recently, I had read the story of  two insane Austrians who took the train from Vienna to goddamn Pyongyang and blogged about it like they were recounting a weekend at the county fair. Those guys have balls of steel, and I recommend reading their blog.

So a plan formed in my mind: “TRANS-SIBERIAN RAILROAD.” I still call it that, although as the plan developed, it would actually be more accurately called the “Trans-Mongolian” voyage (there are three “Trans-Siberian” routes – 1) Moscow-Vladivostok, the true Trans-Siberian, 2) Moscow-Beijing via Harbin, avoiding Mongolia, known as the Trans-Manchurian, and Moscow-Beijing via Ulaanbaatar, the Trans-Mongolian, and the route I took, and then extended on through Shanghai). On paper, it was daunting. A straight shot from Moscow to Beijing alone would take 7 days on the train; if I wanted to make stops along the way, I’d have to time them right because trains didn’t necessarily run every day; I’d be making arrangements in countries where I not only didn’t speak the language, but could barely read the alphabet; internet would be spotty; and the list went on. But the allure of it was too great and I plowed ahead with planning.

I knew I was likely to be on this trip alone — nobody can take three weeks off of work, or if they can, they don’t have the money to fly halfway around the world. But to my surprise two friends, Shannon and Scott agreed to join me for part of the trip.

I read up a lot about the trip, both online at sites like seat61.com (which is a tremendously helpful resource), and with the help of the Trans-Siberian Handbook and Lonely Planet guide to the Trans-Siberian. But I didn’t do a lot in the way of actual planning. When I left the US, I had the following plans set in stone:

May 25 – leave Chicago, arrive Moscow May 26.
May 26 – 29 hang out in Moscow with Shannon (including her birthday)
May 29 – put Shannon back on a plane, get on train (first of several?) across Siberia and into Mongolia and then China alone.
May 29-June 11: ?????
June 11 – meet Scott in Beijing
June 11-June 19 – do stuff in Beijing and Shanghai, with a stop to climb Mount Tai along the way.
June 19 – Fly home from Shanghai.

So that was it. The 4 things I booked in advance were my one-way plane tickets, to Moscow and from Shanghai, my first train ticket from Moscow to Irkutsk, and my hotel in Moscow. Everything else would have to be planned along the way.

It’s a good thing I was flexible. Almost nothing went as planned.

It was the best idea I ever had.

Every three hours or so, the No. 2 Rossiya train will stop for about 20 minutes.
Usually that’s not enough time to do much more than stock up on some food from the vendors on the platform.
By this point I’d been on the train for about 60 hours. That means no internet, TV or radio – really no communication of any sort with the outside world.
I had heard the Krasnoyarsk train station was nicer than most along the Trans-Siberian, and that was true. I ran inside and took the shot above.
The other reason I ran into the station was in hopes of getting a wifi signal on my iPod touch, and to my surprise, I was successful. This picture was taken at the spot where I got word that my friend, whom I had unexpectedly had to leave behind 4100km ago due to a missed flight, had gotten home to Chicago safely.

Alright listen.

It’s time to start posting some content here.

And since I am plugging this as mostly a Chicago blog
and I mean I live in Chicago
I should probably start with a Chicago picture
so there it is.

I’m not going to lie to you
this picture isn’t really good.
I took it through a window
then I HDRed it in Photomatix
and it came out noisy
so I Noise Ninjaed it
which is why it seems a bit like a watercolor
Even the title doesn’t make much sense.
Who cares if it’s Bastille Day?

So now you’re wondering why I even bothered posting it
and it’s pretty simple
nowhere to go from here but up
hopefully

And for serious…I’ll post (my) crappy pics from time to time. How can you get better if you don’t know what you’re doing wrong? And I’ll get around to explaining Photomatix and Noise Ninja and all that.

Coming up shortly I’ll start posting some pics from my non-Chicago expeditions
so get pumped for that
there’ll be some Colombia
some Europe
maybe Pittsburgh! (sorry)
and a bunch strung along from Moscow to Shanghai.

I’ll be shuffling the topics
partly to keep you from getting bored
mostly to keep me from getting bored
I get a little ADD.

-P

Hi.

I know all the cool kids have a tumblr nowadays, but this is my blog. The cool kids also have twitter, and I’ve actually got one of those. Follow it. And all the kids, and many of their parents, have Facebook, so you might as well like me there.

You are now “linked in” to me. I don’t have one of those.

Stay tuned.