Market Day Portraits

Essay by Jeff James

High up in the mountainous rain forests of southwest Ethiopia is the town of Chiri, where Lalmba's Chiri Health Center is located. Under the backdrop of heavy, seasonal rains, ankle-deep mud and an array of ramshackle shops, the town can feel like the place that prosperity forgot.  It's true that there is extreme poverty here, but there is also a richness of spirit that inspires hope.

Twice each week, thousands of residents travel, sometimes for several hours, to congregate in Chiri town.  People don their best clothes, boys court girls, offering to carry their heavy bundles of vegetables and grains to and from market. Men sporting fine and feathered hats drink local brew out of colorful plastic cups, laughing, dancing, and listening to crackling music from warped tapes and blown-out speakers. Women socialize with other women while trading or selling whatever they are able to produce in a week. Children chase each other through the streets, kicking plastic-bag soccer balls, dodging goats, horses, donkeys, and cows tethered to stakes in the ground. Market day reveals a brighter and happier side of life.

I had photographed at the market many times, but the milieu of make-shift structures made it difficult for me to capture the dignity of the person through the starkness of the environment. My goal was to extract each person from the environment and photograph them on their finest day, in their finest clothes. To do this, I set up a photo booth in the middle of the market and made a portrait of any person who wanted their picture taken. The booth was mobbed that day. I photographed women in colorful dresses, goats and chickens, the town policeman, little boys imitating their favorite action hero, distinguished and wise old men and women (rarities in an area where the life expectancy is about 40), young girls in pretty dresses, and more. All told, I photographed nearly 700 people this day. The ones you see here are some of my favorite portraits. In them, I see strength born from hardship, and pride born from ancient traditions.  I see hope, perhaps not for earthly rewards, but a hope born of faith, faith in a God who promised that in the end, the last shall be first.