‘We have to find something in ourselves’: Vincentian photographer <PERSON> on the fallout of La Soufrière · Global Voices
The heavy rains St. Vincent and the Grenadines experienced towards the end of April helped bring plants back to life. Photo of a torch lily in the orange zone (May 6, 2021) by <PERSON>, used with permission.
Ever since St. Vincent and the Grenadines’ La Soufrière reconfirmed its status as an active volcano on April 9, the country's alert level has been vacillating between red and orange as the effects of the eruptions, ranging from displacement to health risks caused by ashfall, take a heavy toll.
Photographer <PERSON> documenting St. Vincent Parrots after the eruption of La Soufrière. Photo by <PERSON> courtesy <PERSON>, used with permission.
In this second instalment of my two-part interview with photographer <PERSON> (you can read the first part here), who has been documenting the event, as well as posting educational information about ash safety, mental health and links to relief organisations, on her Instagram page, we pay homage to photos taken after La Soufrière's 1979 explosion, discuss the areas in which people still need assistance, and explore what resilience means in a Caribbean context.
<PERSON>: It was quite incredible to see the photos of the volcano's dome that you had taken back in 2019. Looking at them in the context of the 2021 eruptions, what do they say to you now?
<PERSON>: That we're not in control of anything. I haven't been up to the volcano as yet, but some people have photographed it and obviously it's just grey, gravel, steam…it just goes to show that everything changes at some point; nothing remains the same. It's like a lesson, ultimately, in our lives. We just have to go with the flow and embrace what happens. Natural disasters will happen in the Caribbean; we just have to find ways to adjust and adapt, unfortunately. 709
Even in the midst of that, there's still a lot of opportunity to reimagine [things like] building homes, where we settle; I think we really need to get into problem-solving mode now. I see it as an opportunity for a lot of growth.
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<PERSON>: Many of your images capture the everyday struggles people have been facing: a reliable water supply, being displaced from their homes—in a really personal way. What are some of the areas in which people need long-term assistance?
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NH: Construction, mental health and education to me seem paramount. We already had a mental health system that wasn't very reliable, so I think we need to start figuring out how we're going to put those systems in place. Maybe it's just a matter of setting up organisations that come here specifically to deal with the fallout of disasters and how it impacts people's lives, and help them face that trauma in some way.
You know Caribbean people: something traumatic happens and they just laugh it off and power through, but there are lasting effects and we don't realise that we're bringing our suffering and pain onto other people in the process. [In terms of rebuilding], immediately what needs to happen is major ash cleanup, bulldozers to clear the roads. The road to Sandy Bay [in the red zone, home to the island's indigenous Garifuna community] is crazy. I was so shocked! I mean, that road was horrible before and they get neglected [by government] so I don't know what's going to happen to them.
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<PERSON>: Your images speak to resilience, though. The ash drawing of the Garifuna chief had a really profound effect on me, as did the dominoes photo and shots of new growth sprouting from ash-covered vegetation. Why is it important to you to photograph a narrative of hope?
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<PERSON>: We don't want to live in a state of panic and depression for the rest of our lives. We'll never get anything done in that state. 482