Benghazi Rappers

The art explosion after the end of Col. Moammar Ghadaffi included dozens of musicians of different genres. Most of them are rappers. Unfortunately I was only able to meet two in person during my week in Benghazi. Many of the serious musicians were actually busy in school, because they put their studies on hold because of the revolution.  

 This is "Bugie." He is 18 and has aspirations of rapping for a living. He said getting music to rap over is difficult, as few Libyans have computers and software to produce beats of their own. Bugie said most rapping happens at parties.


The scene in Benghazi resembles rap in the U.S. in the early eighties; it is still very underground, its members misunderstood.

At the moment, there are also no places to perform in public, except parties. Mydey, 17, (below) has never performed before, and downloaded his beats offline. He reminds me of many rappers I've met from my home town of Flint, MI. The music gave him a chance to have some swagger and agency of his own, in a place where freedom of expression was lacking.

Guys like Mydey and Bugie are among many musicians whose bootlegged music can be found on
revolution compilations on CD's sold in stores in the main shopping district in Benghazi. 


The goal isn't necessarily to make it big; they just enjoy they're new found freedom of expression.

About to leave Tunis

It is time for me to pack up and head to Libya. I'll get up what I've been meaning to, and then I'll be doing what I've meant to be doing since June- cover the Libyan revolution, and give it a local angle.


The Flight leaves from Tunis at 9 a.m. I'll stay for an entire week, seeing Tripoli, and Benghazi, and areas damaged by the war. I'll have intermittent internet access, that I'll use to get stories and photos to my newspaper.


I'll have a lot to cover over there, but Mustafa is doubling as 'subject,' and 'guide.' I can't wait, and I am also very nervous, that I can do the work I came here to do. 

This is outside the Libyan embassy, where Libyans are trying to get medical care thru Tunisia. 

The two above are from the old market in Tunis. I need to pack and hop on a plane to Libya.

Lois and Mustafa

These are the people that have linked me into the Libya story. This is them in their suite in Tunisia, on a brief holiday before Lois flies back home, and Mustafa flies back to work, in Benghazi Libya, where I'll follow him. Mustafa is going to be working on building water distribution points, and getting his countrymen politically involved to make democracy happen. They're lovely people, I feel fortunate to have met them.


In a rare occurance, they managed to get me to put the camera/pen/recorder down for wine, dinner, and beer. There isn't much beer and wine in Libya, said Mustafa.

Tunisia

 'Wow,' is what I said when I pulled the curtains to my room aside, to reveal the scene of Tunis business district below. I had lucked out again. So far although difficult, the trip has been 'lucky.'


Start with my checked luggage making it all the way from Flint to Tunis. The two things that I was worried about, exchanging my U.S. dollars into Tunisian dinars, and getting and using a taxi were easy.. though I still don't like taxis. I learned quickly that traffic lights don't mean anything in Tunisia, and people just 'go,' when they want.


I stayed in a different hotel on Wednesday night, and arrived here Thursday morning. My first goal Thursday was to get my passport stamped with a Libyan visa at the Libyan embassy.


The embassy was in another stroke of luck,  1/2 block away. There were dozen or so Libyans talking with the embassy reception through barred windows and doors. The people were trying to get the free Tunisian medical help, and were arguing over documents. With the help of two Europeans, I learned that the Libyan government worker had come through for me; they received my invitation to work form. They took my passport, to verify  my ID.

 I paid the embassy $40 dinar through the gate, but they said I also need to provide two photos for records, which I didn't have. At that time is was 9:30 a.m., and the embassy closed at 12. I had to get photos taken and return by then.

What ensued was a humorous on-foot scavenger hunt through Tunis, with a scrap of paper the hotel reception desk provided with a business that takes photos. I had to stop people and point to a word in Arabic. At least five people tried to help, and I ended up several blocks from the hotel, and embassy.




I never found the business, but I found a place just in time that also sold older model cameras, and took mug shots.. not literally mug shots. As you can see, I look really, really intense, and laughed about it with the guy at the counter. It really sums up the morning though. I returned to the embassy with about 20 minutes to spare. After edging my way into the crowd to get the embassy worker's attention, I eventually made it inside the embassy to sign more forms in a large marble room. I paid them $100 dinars (about $70 USD.) 


There's no way the man knew what seeing that simple stamp on page 10 of my passport meant. It was the crux of difficulty with getting there.  It easily could have gone the other way, and despite what I thought before, I could not have gotten on the plane to Benghazi without it.

That night, I also found a translator to work with to return to the embassy, but this time as a reporter. More on that.

Shooting is difficult in North Africa- there is no law giving journalists the right to take photos of people in public. Fortunately, there are always people that want to share stories.

Paris to Tunisia- Leg #3

Tunde was right. Paris De Gaulle airport was a pain in the ass. It took the entire two-hour layover to get from one terminal to the other, and re-check my equipment bag. It was an amazingly complex, disjointed facility. It was though, exciting to see everything in French, and to know I was way out of my comfort zone. I didn't hear anyone else speaking English. 

As I said, I had to recheck my bag, which normally entails pulling everything out, but the agent settled for 70 percent with all the crap I carry with me.

I ended up sitting next to a French man, who only spoke French. The instructions on the plane were in French, Arabic, and English. I wondered who else on the plane spoke English.

I tried with some success to sleep on the flight, despite being crammed into the window seat. I was surprised and grateful to be woken up with in-flight dinner I was distractedly, and uncomfortably hungry.

It was a kind of salty, thin sliced boiled fish and rice salad, with a tin-foiled cheese wedge, bread, a stick of dark chocolate, and a type fruit muffin that was more like crepes in texture. I was ecstatic to eat again. 


I was amazed at the expanse of craggy mountains as endless and detailed as the clouds that rolled below the plane.


I was surprised that Tunis on Wednesday was a lot like Michigan in late September- cooler, and rainy, and even got dark at 6.m. Soon we landed in Tunis, Tunisia, in North Africa.

Second leg- Atlanta to Paris

Airplanes are an interesting place to observe people, and probably be observed. With no one to talk to, you absorb more. To my left is a pair of energetic five-year-olds, to my right, across the aisle is a French couple. I have begun to notice to attractiveness of people who travel by air.

The airport in Atlanta began my international experience. The first woman waiting for the flight to Paris was Algerian. Algeria is a primarily French and Arabic speaking country West of Libya. She spoke English with a heavy French accent, and was very enthusiastic about my trip. She spoke with the flair of an French teacher, gestuclating; she said 'Ooh la, la' a lot. I guess  the expression is not related to just sexy things. If you want the condensed version, watch the video above. 


"It's gotta be turned off if it's not keeping you alive," said an Atlanta flight attendant, on the plane several hours later. I ended up sitting next to two bi-lingual kids who were traveling with parents, and fidgeted and played in their seats. The little girl directly to my left repeatedly pulled out the tethered remote for the headset displays lodged in the headrests of the seats in front of us. She figured out how to turn on the overhead light before I did. 


I'm a little jealous how much more seat room the two had on an eight hour flight. I only then noticed that it was raining out.


Watching 'Bridesmaids,' and  'Hanna,' on the headrest monitor, and being fed dinner and breakfast made the 8 hours 'fly' by. 


They didn't fly by, at all. I made a pun for my writer buddy Will. I slept a little, and kept myself busy with trying to learn more Arabic. More on that later.


When my watch finally said 4:15, Michigan time, it was brilliantly bright out. I watched the icon of the plane creep across the Atlantic via large GPS monitor at the front.


At 4:15 in Michigan it's 10:15 in Paris, and North Africa. I hope I can convince my body it's after 10 a.m. also.

First leg of the trip

The CRJ200 jet we're flying out of feels like a bus, inside. My camera bag is at my feet, and (hopefully) my checked bag somewhere in the back. 

It's a perfect clear sky, and the passengers are in good spirits. This is the short flight. I still can't believe I'm doing this.


The plane's walls have a faint repeating pattern of bubbles. "Calm as Hindu cows," comes to mind, looking over the rest of the passengers.  

 The engines spin, and vibrate the cabin like a car 

revving in neutral. Overhead fans lend a white noise.
We move tentatively, the sun through the window
lighting my hands.


The captain announces "One minute to departure," and then the minute passes. I see the long path ahead briefly as the plane surges decisively, impressively forward.

Very soon, there is no runway, and we are pushed back into our seats. Flint falls away and shrinks and tilts as we bear south. This is less scary than a hot air balloon. Here we go!

Visa support is secured

A late (or early) phone call to the media relations department at the Libyan government paid off. I received the email I was waiting for as I got into work today. I'll need to check in to the Libyan embassy in Tunisia, to get all the necessary marks. 


Now it's all rubber-hits-the-road stuff- who drives me to the border, where do I stay, and when. But, it's really happening. A week from today I'll be in Libya. Emotional roller coaster ride OVER.

Pre-Trip shopping

I'm not going to list all the crap I bought for the trip today, but it does include cutting tool, water purifying tablets, sunscreen, lots of travel toiletries. And Cliff Bars, 2800 calories worth.

Okay, this might be okay.

I may get not visa support in time to fly over to Tunis, Tunisia. It's not administrative neglect, it's a Libyan government socked with all kinds of new tasks. Couple that with barriers in technology, and now the Eid holiday which shuts everything down for a few days will put everything on hold until Wednesday.


That all may not mater. My contact, and the subject of the story, said that the Tunisian border is far more likely to let journalists through, into Libya. He seemed to think it was fairly safe to fly in, and try to get across. 


The next step is just to buy the plane ticket. So, now I'm just waiting for an American to broker my ticket.

Vlog test

I did this very quickly, to practice getting a video shot and completed in a short amount of time. The next test will probably be more like sound slides. Posting just under an hour after I 'shot' it.

Getting caught up on 'Thank You's.' (this took a minute)

As of right now, my Kickstarter fundraiser account is at $1,695, out of $2,000. There's pretty much no way this isn't getting funded. I really, really appreciate everyone that helped.


My first backer was Gwen Pellett, who was on it pretty much as soon as I posted it. Thank you Gwen, you were first! Tunde Olaniran quickly followed. Like many suggestions he has made, this one was his, and it's really paying off, literally. My good friend Paul Woolcock I've known longer than almost everyone, also backed me quickly. So did Amy Olszewski. Thank you Amy. Thanks also to Rich Parsons, a very very supportive, and kind individual. He's also a big reason why I'm not afraid of much anymore. 


This wouldn't be going as well without my co-workers and friends from the Tri-County Times. Marie Thomas and Tiffany Marchand jumped right in, almost as soon as I posted the video.  Thanks also to Kelly Hodges (wink wink), Sharon Stone, Kerrie McCollom, Mary Powell, and the amazing Jennifer Ward. If you knew  what these ladies looked like, you'd be totally jealous of where I get to work. They're also all very kind people. Except Sharon Stone. (j/k) Equally studly is Will Axford, a good friend and co-worker. Thanks Will! 


I have to thank my UM-Flint Journalism friends- Professor Mike Lewis (This is partially your fault). Great, great friend, and co-first J-School-graduate pal Johnny McKay. This is also partially your fault. You both Shaped me into the journalist I am today.


Somehow I feel that Bill Webb fits into this category- we also got to talk cameras, and he swears as often as I do, which is a lot for a damn UM-Flint administrator. Janet Lorch is also from my college days, but with graphic design- thank you Janet!


Flint friends and professionals- you're much appreciated. Stevi Atkins, Therea Roach, Michele Stolz. Ya'll aren't rich, I appreciate this project means something to you. 


Still the most positive person I know- Erin Miller- thanks for the support, and the hangouts. Clay Casselman- you're just a very cool guy. Thank you!


Crazy adventurer Dan Hosie- big, big help, thank you. I think you lent a lot of momentum to the project. Eric Greenwald- I'm surprised, but not surprised you decided to back me. Thank you!


My band, Odd Hours is like family to me. Thank you to Mike Legue and Natasha Beste. I love you guys. Also, Jaye Beste- she really makes Odd Hours possible, and helped make this project possible too.


Michael Charles Patrick Jr. What you lack in a short, simple name, you make up for in looking legit with a guitar. Thank you too.


This is the 'Who is this person??' section. I don't know who there people are, but I appreciate the help. It was excoiting to be backed by 'strangers.' Tom Townsend, Kevin Curtin, thank you. 'Kimberly,' thank you for the support, and the encouragement. 
Jonas Sjostrand- there's an umlaut missing. Sorry, but thank you too, and  Stephanie Pereira. Support from Brooklyn makes me feel legit for some reason.

And of course, thank you dad, Tim (Ray) Jagielo, for supporting me with a project that he's also very, very, very, really, really leery about. 

Waiting...

I'm not used to problems I can't just persist my way out of. Usually repeated emails and phone calls get done, what I need to get done. But what if those calls need to be to a shaky, overworked new Libyan government, where they speak English, but not the same language?


The window of time is closing, and the plan I have is so clear, it just depends on getting my visa support letter. I'm still waiting on the visa, but now Mustafa, the subject of my story, is going to help me get it through. I sent the information, but have not heard anything yet. Being impatient doesn't help me, and neither does the feeling that, completing the project is a matter of life and death.

My sister's wedding

I actually didn't factor in the emotions I would feel while shooting my sister's wedding.


It didn't actually hit me until she was at the altar. Then the camera shook a little as I teared up a bit.

It was nice to see and catch her genuine reactions, some of which were adorable. Don' tell her I said she was adorable. 


The blonde is my mom, by the way.

Somewhere there was also this guy in a tux that she married or something..:shrugs: It was all about her, she did a great job essentially throwing a giant party and I love her, she'll always be my best friend.

Preczewski/ Gibb wedding

 File this one under the 'Simple weddings.' The chapel was lovely, but small, and the reception was in the couple's  backyard, in a heated tent. It was one of the most clever weddings that I've seen.

I've never shot this before...

Libya Approaching

I'm going to Libya. 


By Thanksgiving, I'll be an international journalist. 


By Thanksgiving I'll have been in two north African countries, eaten Libyan food, drank Libyan water, and walked through an alien country understanding maybe 5 percent of those around me.


By Thanksgiving I'll have completed reporting on a more exciting, difficult, frightening project than most journalists will ever undertake, and I'm still a new journalist, by most measures.

This isn't a recent decision. The idea came to me in June, and I had convinced myself, (or decided to ignore all fears and warning signs,) and decided that I should go. I should go cover a family from a small community near Flint. The video has the basic rundown of what's happening.


To date, I have my passport, have applied for a Libyan Visa, have made contacts for transportation, bought a laptop, started learning Arabic, and created a kickstarter account to raise funds.


I still need to secure a visa, get my equipment ensured, and nail down a location to meet the subjects of the story- an American/ Libyan family living and working a midst a smoldering revolution.


I plan for this blog to be the main source of stories an information while I am gone. I've been back filling this blog to get caught up before I start filling it with hopefully very compelling images, words and video.




Basically, I'm crossing fingers, and  everything I have, hoping I can pull off the trip of this part of my career. I still need a plane ticket, and I still need to convince the family I'll be safe.


Much more to come- including details of how this got started, and the stories I've already written.

This is what we are, this is how we do it

Those are the words long time Flint Journal photographer Bruce Edwards used to describe the job a photo journalist has.


He was writing on the dry erase board, it was late 2008, in a University of Michigan, Flint, classroom. 


"Photojournalist" was written, before the class during intro to photojournalism.  "This is what we are," he said, underlining the word 'Journalist.' He circled the word 'photo.'
"This is how we do it."


I am a photo journalist. People like Bruce inspired me. 


I've been in development, in reality, since high school. That's 12 years of trying to keep a camera in my hand, and thanks to friends and family, a camera was never too far away. As a professional, I've been learning since 2007, and I can finally say after three internships, countless projects, stories, successes and failures, I am competent. I can teach others, but God, I still need to be taught. 


Currently, I work for the Tri-County Times out of Fenton, Michigan. We're a damn good paper for being so small, and it's been my role to improve and build up the photography of the paper, and also teach them about ethics, while they taught me how to cover a small community, filed with numerous residents that DO care what you say, and WILL write you when you get it wrong. I'm a community journalist, and that's where the industry still has a heart, and a pulse.

Simple Weddings

 Simple weddings make up the bulk of my wedding photography. These are people that need simple, no-frills images on a disc, and perhaps a few prints.  I shoot journalistically first, and also get the traditional photos they want. And, they can afford me.

Obviously, I end up focusing more on the bride. I also like the juxtaposition between the beauty of the ceremony, against getting ready, oftentimes in a regular public restroom.

I'm better learning to make messy compositions work, that can in a way, express the chaos that can surround the best planned weddings.

Even in the Deerfield Township hall, elegance can be achieved. 

The amazing Tunde Olaniran

I live with an international electro-star. Very soon, I think, that won't be hyperbole at all. Tunde has toured Europe, played big festivals in Canada and the U.S., and played showcases in New York City. 

We've known each other for around seven years, and my own musical aspirations aside, Tunde's amazing musical and creative ability has developed over that time, and I've also developed my skills as a photographer. I'm not known internationally, but this musician and good friend has trusted me to take photos for two of his albums, and hopefully more in the future, not to mention numerous live shows.

Portraiture with freelance work

These are recent examples of freelance work I do for non-profit organizations, and local businesses. In this case, Raise It Up! youth performers/educators, and Brown CPA, all from Flint.

Working with shadows can reveal the graininess of those middle tones in my D300's.

Brown CPA

Dangerous Lee

Dangerous Lee

This is my latest edit from a project i am catching up on, that was shot in 2009. 
Dangerous Lee is a local author and AIDS awareness advocate. 
I learned that editing photos that were shot with less experience on lesser equipment is annoying, 
but makes for an interesting challenge. Like getting the damn formatting right in this blog.

I did enjoy adding the highlights and shadows by brush.