On January 14, 2019, the body of Ferdinand Santos floats, Christ-like, below a bridge in Tondo, Manila, weighted down by a concrete-filled pail with shackles. In 2016, President Rodrigo Duterte launched a nationwide anti-drug campaign, killing thousands of poor people suspected to be linked to drugs. Today, human rights organizations estimate a death toll as high as 30,000. Three years later and the war on drugs rages on. Thousands of cases remain in legal limbo, classified as “deaths under investigation” by the Philippine National Police and never brought to prosecutors. Families of victims are left facing a dead end, unable to achieve justice for their loved ones, citing enormous obstacles to filing cases and obtaining police or autopsy reports, authorities’ failure to investigate, and fear of retaliation. Since 2017, my work has been focused on documenting victims not identified and deaths not investigated amid the president's war on drugs.

Buried Justice

A Ural Airlines Airbus A321 makes a hard landing in a cornfield near Zhukovsky Airport after both of its engines failed. August 15, 2019.

Miracle on a cornfield

A Palestinian is seen using a slingshot against Israeli soldiers, when Palestinians clashed with the Israeli army during a demonstration in the village of Kafr Qaddum on May 10, 2019. Palestinians have marched every Friday and Saturday in the village of Kafr Qaddum since 2011, due to the closure of one of their roads and land confiscation by the Israeli authorities. These decisions were made to expand the Israeli settlement of Kedumim. On this road, Palestinians were able to reach the main city of Nablus in 15 minutes; now it takes more than 45 minutes.

Absent innocence

A girl cries during her father's funeral organized by government opposition in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, on October 16, 2019. The Haitian opposition on October 9 rejected President Jovenel Moise's appeal for dialogue, as the country's main cities remained paralyzed after more than a month of often violent protests. Over the past year, Haiti has sunk deeper into political crisis as anti-corruption protests demanding Moise's resignation roil the destitute Caribbean nation.

Devastated Girl

A boy is seen coming out of the sea after work removing oil spilled on Itapuam,a beach located in the city of Cabo de Santo Agostinho, Pernambuco, Brazil, on October 21, 2019. Large blobs of oil staining more than 130 beaches in northeastern Brazil began appearing in early September and have now turned up along a 2,000 km stretch of the Atlantic coastline. The source of the patches remains a mystery despite President Jair Bolsonaro's assertions that they came from outside the country and were possibly the work of criminals.

Black tide in Brazil

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

People run for cover after being rescued from the DusitD2 Hotel on January 15, 2019 in Nairobi, Kenya, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

Special Assault Security forces arrive at the scene of the blast at the DusitD2 hotel complex in Nairobi, Kenya on January 15, 2019. A huge blast followed by a shootout rocked the upmarket hotel and office complex in an attack claimed by the Al-Shabaab Islamist group.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

A woman collapses in shock after being rescued from the DusitD2 Hotel compound on January 15, 2019, in Nairobi, Kenya, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel compound.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

A firefighter stands next to burning vehicles in Nairobi, Kenya, on January 15, 2019, after a blast followed by a shootout rocked the DusitD2 upmarket hotel and office complex, in an attack claimed by the Al-Qaeda-linked Al-Shabaab Islamist group.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

People run for cover after being rescued from the scene of an attack at a hotel complex in Nairobi's Westlands suburb on January 15, 2019. A huge blast followed by a shootout rocked the DusitD2 upmarket hotel and office complex, causing casualties, in an attack claimed by the Al-Qaeda-linked Al-Shabaab Islamist group.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

A Kenyan security officer urges people to take cover after hearing gunfire coming from the DusitD2 hotel complex on January 15, 2019 in Nairobi, Kenya, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

A woman lies on the ground to take cover after hearing gunfire coming from the DusitD2 hotel complex on January 15, 2019 in Nairobi, Kenya, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

Kenyan security forces take cover after hearing gunfire coming from the DusitD2 hotel complex on January 15, 2019, in Nairobi, Kenya, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel compound.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

An injured woman is evacuated and treated for her injuries after being rescued from the DusitD2 hotel complex in Nairobi, Kenya on January 15, 2019, while a security operation is underway after terrorists belonging to the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel compound.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

Men watch as the body of Abdalla Mohamed Dahir is buried on January 16, 2019, in Nairobi, Kenya. Dahir and his colleague were killed after militants of the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel.

On January 15-16, 2019, a terrorist attack perpetrated at the DusitD2 complex in the Westlands area of Nairobi, Kenya, left more than 20 people dead. The attack occurred at the 14 Riverside Drive, where an upscale popular hotel, several restaurants and an office complex was located. Al-Shabaab –a terrorist, jihadist fundamentalist group based in East Africa – claimed responsibility for the attack in a statement that was released during the assault. They stated that the attack was "a response to US President Donald Trump's decision to recognize Jerusalem as the capital of Israel."

The body of Abdalla Mohamed Dahir is buried on January 16, 2019, in Nairobi, Kenya. Dahir and his colleague were killed after militants of the East African jihadist group Al-Shabaab attacked the hotel compound.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

A migrant walks along the railroad that connects the city of Arriaga, Chiapas,and Chahuites, Oaxaca. This road through the fields is known to be particularly dangerous. Central Americans get robbed of their shoes and backpacks. Armed robberies with machete knives or guns can go wrong when migrants resist their attackers. 07/02/2017 Arriaga, Chiapas, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

In stifling heat, the members of the caravan decide to take a two-day break in the small village of Tapanatepec. They take the opportunity to rest, wash their clothes and bathe in the river below the village. Leaving on March 25, 2018, from Tapachula in southern Mexico, on the border with Guatemala, more than 1,500 migrant men, women and children join a month-long "caravan" to the Mexican city of Tijuana on the border with the United States. This march is organized by Pueblos Sin Fronteras (People Without Borders), to protect them from the authorities but also from the gangs and cartels which regularly attack migrants traveling alone. The first caravan of migrants was organized after the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. 29/03/18 San Pedro Tapanatepec, Oaxaca, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Norma Romero (L), founder of Las Patronas, gives food to the migrants traveling on board the La Bestia train. The volunteer campaigns of Las Patronas began on February 14, 1995, the day Leonila Vazquez and her daughter Norma Romero came back from the market and saw the freight train with migrants on board asking for food. They threw them their breakfasts that they had just bought without even knowing where these people had come from. Since then, every day, a group of a dozen women prepare bags of food while waiting for the train to pass through their village. 17/03/2017 Amatlán de los Reyes, Veracruz, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Two migrants wake up after their second night aboard La Bestia. It is dangerous and difficult to sleep on La Bestia; some migrants use a rope or a belt to avoid falling down during the night. It is estimated that every year, some 500,000 migrants, the majority of them from El Salvador, Honduras and Guatemala, board the train in an attempt to reach the United States. The train, which carries products and materials, including maize, cement and minerals, regularly comes to a complete stop and is inspected by the Mexican Migration Police (INM). The risks of traveling on this train are high and many passengers become victims of armed robberies or have to have a limb amputated following a fall. Since 9 May 2014, railway operators have banned migrants from traveling on the train. 22/04/2017 San Manuel, Tabasco, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

In the migrant house 72 in the town of Tenosique, the meals offered to the migrants consist mainly of corn tortillas and red beans. That evening, after a phone call from a farmer, a group of migrants equipped with machetes and kitchen knives went to butcher a cow that had died of natural causes and was offered to the shelter by the farmer. The migrants’ house was named after the 2010 San Fernando massacre of 72 migrants by Los Zêtas, a drug cartel in Tamaulipas state in northern Mexico. 10/03/2017 Tenosique, Tabasco, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Paula and Luis are fleeing Honduras and El Salvador because of the violence in the country. After walking 50 km, they have just arrived at the migrants’ house in Mapastepec, 150 km from the border with Guatemala. The inhabitants of Mapastepec are very involved with the migrants. Every evening a new family welcomes the migrants for dinner. Here Paula and Luis pray before the meal. 04/02/2017 Mapastepec, Chiapas, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Norma, the founder of Las Patronas, takes a group of migrants in her car to help them take a bus to the nearest town. The group is afraid to cross the city because they are being watched by the Mexican Migration Police (INM). After more than 3 weeks of high-risk travel, being deported is not an option. Las Patronas' voluntary campaigns began on February 14, 1995, the day Leonila Vazquez and her daughter Norma Romero came back from the market and saw the freight train with migrants on board asking for food. They threw their breakfasts that they had just bought without even knowing where these people had come from. Since then, every day, a group of a dozen women prepare bags of food while waiting for the train to pass through their village. 15/03/2017 Amatlán de los Reyes, Veracruz, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Migrants walk on the road in sweltering heat without drinking water, using everything they can to protect themselves from the sun. The next day the Mexican Migration Police (INM) will carry out an operation to capture and deport members of this caravan to their country of origin. This is the third caravan of migrants organized since the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. This time there are 3,000 Central American, Cuban and African migrants. Migration policy in Mexico has succumbed to pressure from Donald Trump, who threatened to increase import tariffs, if the Mexican president did not stop the flow of migrants to the US at his northern border. Conditions along the migration route have become harder and migrants find themselves more than ever victims of US policies. 20/04/2019 Mapastepec, Chiapas, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Central American migrants from the caravan watch the freight train hoping it will depart soon. After walking more than 250 km, the members of the caravan hope to continue their journey on board La Bestia. Setting out on March 25, 2018, from Tapachula in southern Mexico, on the border with Guatemala, more than 1,500 migrant men, women and children join a month-long caravan to the Mexican city of Tijuana on the border with the United States. This march is organized by Pueblos Sin Fronteras (People Without Borders), to protect them from the authorities as well as the gangs and cartels that regularly attack migrants traveling alone. This was the first caravan of migrants organized after the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. 28/03/18 Arriaga, Chiapas, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Migrants from the caravan rest in a field near the road while others stop the passing cars to ask for money to pay for a bus ticket to the next village for each member of the caravan. Starting on March 25, 2018, from Tapachula in southern Mexico, on the border with Guatemala, more than 1,500 migrant men, women and children join a month-long caravan to the Mexican city of Tijuana on the border with the United States. This march is organized by Pueblos Sin Fronteras (People Without Borders), to protect them from the authorities as well as the gangs and cartels that regularly attack migrants traveling alone. This was the first caravan of migrants organized after the inauguration of Donald Trump as the 45th president of the United States. 31/03/18 Niltepec, Oaxaca, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Two children play in the sand next to the wall that separates Mexico from the United States. The border in Tijuana began to be demarcated with a fence in 1990, during the presidency of George Bush Sr. In 1993, Bill Clinton had an impassable 14-kilometer-long fence built there. 08/05/2017 Tijuana, Baja California, Mexico.

The US border begins in southern Mexico. This is how Central American, Cuban, Haitian and African migrants tell the story of their journey to achieve the American dream. It all starts at the border between Mexico and Guatemala on makeshift rafts launched on the Rio Suchiate before walking for days on end and venturing out on La Bestia, the famous freight train that crosses the country. Avoiding the Mexican migration police, alone or in caravans, despite the long journey and the many dangers, thousands of migrants take this route every day to flee the gangs and violence in their countries. A migration route that changes from day to day, depending on the mood and politics of Donald Trump. The migrants themselves lose their money, their dignity and sometimes even their lives. This long-term story about the Mexican migration route began on the day of the inauguration of US President Donald Trump in 2017 and lasted the four years of his mandate.

Funeral of Ingrid, 29, found in an unmarked grave on the US border after she disappeared 5 years earlier. Members of the organization COFAMIPRO (National Union of Families of Disappeared Migrants) accompany the family throughout the recovery of the body. 23/01/2019 El Progreso, Honduras.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Young people from a PoC (Protection of Civilians) site wait for the bus before taking their final national school exams in Juba, South Sudan on January 24, 2019. Around 35,000 internally displaced persons from all around South Sudan remain living in two camps on the outskirts of the country’s capital.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

IDP’s take part in a traditional Shilluk church ceremony for the protection of a civilian site in Malakal, South Sudan, on March 31, 2019. Some 30,000 internally displaced persons continue to inhabit the camp in the north of the country despite the signing of a cessation of hostilities agreement between government and opposition forces in 2018.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Tiger Division forces assigned as Salva Kiir’s presidential guard perform drills at their barracks in Rajaf, South Sudan, on April 26, 2019. Though the guard is supposed to be comprised of an equal share of former SPLA soldiers and former SPLA-IO soldiers, the two armies have only just commenced training together despite the looming deadline for the formation of a unity government on February 22nd.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

SSPDF chaplains pray with injured soldiers at Juba Military Hospital in the Gyada area of Juba, South Sudan, on April 27, 2019. Despite a ceasefire agreement signed between the government and opposition forces in 2018, violence continues in the country with interethnic fighting having risen in place of the war that had been tearing the country apart since 2013.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Wives and daughters of SSPDF (South Sudan People's Defense Force) soldiers sing at a Sunday service at a church for the residents of local barracks in Yei, South Sudan, on April 14, 2019. While peace has generally prevailed across the country in South Sudan, pockets of violence have persisted in the south of the country in regions like Yei with groups who have refused to be co-signatories to the revitalized peace agreement.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

A man rolls out a red carpet in preparation for the arrival of Dr. Riek Machar in South Sudan on Monday, September 9, 2019. Machar’s visit is his second to the country since he fled on foot to DRC in 2016 amid an outbreak of fighting between his SPLA-IO soldiers and government forces in Juba.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Refugees and the local host community fish together at a stream formed by intense flooding in Maban, South Sudan on Wednesday, November 27, 2019. Large areas of eastern South Sudan have been affected by heavy rains in the past months, leaving an estimated 420,000 people displaced from their homes.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

A marching band plays in anticipation of the arrival of the United Nations Security Council at the South Sudan National Police Academy in Rambor, South Sudan on Sunday, October 20, 2019. The site has been designated as a joint training facility for government SSPDF solders, and opposition SPLA-IO and SSOA soldiers as part of the country’s revitalized peace agreement.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

SSPDF soldiers and two civilian women take a military helicopter out of Juba as they make their way to a cantonment registration in Pibor, South Sudan, on Friday, September 27, 2019. Governmental SSPDF soldiers and opposition SPLA-IO and SSOA forces have started a registration and screening process in cantonment sites across the country. The three forces, which had been at war with one another until September 2018, aim to merge as a unified national force before a transitional unity government is formed in February.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Egyptian Air Force pilots walk along the wing of a cargo plane in Juba, South Sudan, on September 11, 2019. A cargo plane loaded with 300 tents and 3,200 military uniforms arrived in Juba from Cairo, Egypt, as a contribution towards the cantonment plans of South Sudan’s military and opposition forces as part of the revitalized peace agreement signed between the two opposing forces, governmental SSPDF soldiers and opposition SPLA-IO.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Children take part in a traditional Shilluk ceremony for the protection of a civilian site in Malakal, South Sudan on March 31, 2019. Some 30,000 internally displaced persons continue to inhabit the camp in the north of the country despite the signing of a cessation of hostilities agreement between the government and opposition forces in 2018.

Between 2013 and 2018, South Sudan was completely overrun by civil war. After a failed attempt at peace in 2016, the country’s president Salva Kiir and his rival Riek Machar signed a revitalized peace agreement that aimed to form a unified transitional government in February of 2020. While relative peace has prevailed in much of the country, stumbling blocks have still hindered the process. Delays in the formation of a unified national army and disagreements over the number of states in the country and their boundaries have put the peace agreement on a delicate tightrope. Meanwhile the country's people have grown even more weary of the instability and uncertainty. These photographs were taken after the signing of the new peace agreement in 2018. They attempt to map out South Sudan’s delicate road to peace, documenting the individuals who are striving to build a life among the chaos that their country has brought them, and the soldiers that the country’s stability relies on.

Locals gather round a bomb after it was disarmed by an UNMAS (United Nations Mine Action Service) team in Juba, South Sudan, on January 16, 2019. An old Sudanese 50 kg aerial bomb was disarmed by UNMAS after it was discovered by SSPDF forces in the densely populated Mangateen area, a district of the country's capital.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

A family member mourns the death of an Ebola victim at a police escorted funeral on May 16, 2019 in Butembo.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Health workers carry the coffin of an Ebola victim on July 15, 2019, in Beni.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Richard, 34, an Ebola survivor and sole parent to two children after his wife passed away from the virus earlier this year, is seen in his bedroom in Beni, north-eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo on September 17, 2019. Since the beginning of the Ebola epidemic in August 2018 there have been over 2,000 deaths and now nearly 1,000 survivors.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

A local police officer before a patrol on May 18, 2019, in Butembo, North Kivu. The town of Butembo is at the heart of the Ebola crisis in the North Kivu province. Ebola treatment centers have come under attack frequently by Mai-Mai rebel groups hampering the response.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

An injured suspected Mai-Mai rebel fighter is thrown into the back of a truck outside an Ebola Treatment Centre in Butembo, the epicenter of DR Congo's latest Ebola outbreak. Mai-Mai rebels attacked the ETC in the early hours of the morning on March 9, 2019, killing one police officer and injuring another. In the past month alone, there were more than 30 attacks and incidents involving elements of the Ebola response. The outbreak emerged in North Kivu last August and spread to the neighboring Ituri province. It has claimed 561 lives out of 894 recorded cases, according to the latest DRC Health Ministry figures.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Women mourn the death of a family member during a funeral on the outskirts of Beni, North Kivu.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

A police officer is seen through a bullet hole left after an attack on the Ebola treatment center the night before.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Desange lies in a clinic in the village of Aloya on June 17, 2019.She is waiting to hear if she fits the definition of an Ebola patient and if she will be transferred to an Ebola Treatment Centre.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Ebola health workers disinfect the body of a thief who was killed by the military the night before, on July 15, 2019, in Beni.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

A health worker helps a young man with Ebola out of his isolation cubicle in Beni, North Kivu.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

Government soldiers prepare to escort Ebola health workers in and around Butembo on May 18, 2019.

Since August 1, 2018, the Democratic Republic of the Congo has been dealing with the second largest outbreak of Ebola in the world and is said to be the most complex outbreak to date. There have been over 2,000 deaths so far and over 300 attacks on health facilities, which left four people dead and five injured. Health teams have to work under armed escort, resulting in even more confusion throughout the communities affected by Ebola.

A family member of a deceased Ebola victim carries a cross before the safe burial starts on July 14, 2019 in Beni.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

Night detail of the Mediterranean Sea, seen from the Mare Jonio ship.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

The remains of the migrants' rubber dinghy.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

A woman embraces her children and other children, after being rescued by the Mediterranea. Many women were raped in Libyan ghettos and got pregnant.Спасённые судном организации

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

A man, immediately after the rescue, rests on the Mare Jonio.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants, including 22 children under the age of 10 years, six unaccompanied minors and eight pregnant women. Most of them suffered torture and slavery in the Libyan ghettos.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

Renaissance

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

A woman feeds her baby after being saved from the shipwreck.

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

Kadher, a child from Ivory Coast, is transferred to a Coast Guard ship with his mother and other children. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves and the risk of falling into the sea, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.”

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

The Italian Coast Guard ship leaves the Mare Jonio after the "transshipment of shame."

On August 28, 2019, 70 miles from Misurata, the Mediterranea organization’s ship Mare Jonio rescued 98 shipwrecked migrants. Most of them suffered torture in Libya. After travelling for two nights, the migrants reported engine trouble. When the rubber dinghy started to deflate, 6 people died. The former Italian Minister of the Interior Matteo Salvini refused to allow the rescue ship to enter Italian waters, leaving the Mare Jonio15 miles from Lampedusa for days. On August 29, the Coast Guard transshipped 64 people. The transshipment was carried out in the open sea, at night with high waves, which is why it has been dubbed “the transshipment of shame.” The Mare Jonio spent six days off coast with 34 other migrants on board, in poor sanitary conditions and without drinking water. These are the words spoken by the mission head after more than six days had passed:“Brothers and sisters, on a gagné.” The last 34 people left on the ship were evacuated.

A migrant, on board the Mare Jonio after the rescue wears a thermal blanket.

Turkish world record-holder free-diver Sahika Ercumen during a training session before attempting to break the world record during the 90-meter women's cave diving (without fins) at the Gilindire Cave in Aydincik, a town in southern Turkey's Mersin province. Gilindire Cave is a glacier cave that is known as the 8th Wonder of the World.

Gilindire Cave – in one breath

An athlete competes in the women’s shotgun skeet event at the 2019 European Games in Minsk on July 26, 2019.

Manicure

Xu Can (L) of China competes with Shun Kubo of Japan in a boxing match in Fuzhou, in China's eastern province of Jiangxi, on May 26, 2019. Xu Can succeeded in defending his World Boxing Association (WBA) featherweight title after defeating challenger Shun Kubo of Japan by technical knockout (TKO) at Xu's hometown, Fuzhou, China.

Chinese Boxer Xu Can

An athlete competes in the women’s shotgun skeet event at the 2019 European Games in Minsk on July 26, 2019.

Manicure

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

A portrait of Alexei Talai in the gym during a training session before a competition.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei does exercises with a barbell in the gym.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei takes a shower before training in the swimming pool.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei jumps into the water during training in the swimming pool.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei during training in the swimming pool.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei during training in the swimming pool.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

A portrait of Alexei Talai with a trophy. Alexei is a prize-winning Paralympic swimmer who even holds some world records.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei does exercises with a dumbbell in the gym.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei Talai meets some of his fellow Paralympic athletes on his way to a sports complex.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei Talai’s talk during a business forum in Russia. He often acts as a motivational speaker.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei and his wife waiting for their fourth child to be born.

In his childhood Alexei Talai lost both his legs and arms in an accident. He tried to put out a fire, but there happened to be an old artillery shell in the burning room. It exploded and Alexei was seriously injured. Miraculously, he survived, but ahead of him lay a completely different life — surgery, rehabilitation and self-acceptance. Years later, Alexei became a master of sports in swimming, and a member of the Belarus Paralympic team. He also achieved a black belt in Taekwondo. Sport became a kind of psychological support for Alexei. He now has a big family with four children. The family is a very important part of his life. In addition to sports, Alexei is active in public life. He founded a charitable foundation, and successfully acts as a motivational speaker and coach. Alexei holds several world and European records. In September 2019, he set a world record in the 50m breaststroke at the Paralympic Swimming World Championships in London.

Alexei during a walk with his children in the park.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Team China perform their routine in the artistic synchronized swimming at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Jack Laugher of Great Britain competes in the Men's 3m Springboard diving final at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Russia’s artistic swimming team trains before the event at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Jeremy Desplanches of Switzerland competes in the Men's 200m Individual Medley Final at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Jessica Macaulay of Britain competes in the Women's 20m High Diving Rounds at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Jimena Perez Blanco of Spain competes in the Women's 800m Freestyle Heats at the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

18th FINA World Swimming Championships, Gwangju, South Korea.

Members of South Korea’s artistic swimming team perform during the 18th FINA World Swimming Championships.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

A typical day for the wrestlers starts as early as 6 am.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

The Pehlwans have their unique style of free hand exercise

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

In the wrestling arena nothing goes unused, even a couple of heavy bricks are employed for exercising.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

The morning training regimen focuses on strength, weight and flexibility.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

Two Pehlwans practice under the supervision of their seniors.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

It is often said that all the modern day wrestling moves are present in Kushti.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

The rules of Kushti do not permit strikes or kicks only locks and throws.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

Every Akhara has a temple to the God Hanuman who represents strength and bravery.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

The choke hold movement in Kushti is a favorite among many wrestlers.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

In Kushti, age is just a number, will power is all that matters.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

Pehlwans massage eachother’s backs after their wrestling bouts.

Kushti or Pehlwani is a form of wrestling from the Indian Subcontinent. It was developed during the Mughal Empire. The practitioners of this sport are referred to as a Pehlwans while the teachers are known as Ustads. Kushti is taught at a training ground known as an Akhara, which is usually made of mud, clay mixed with oil and ground turmeric. Water is added every few days to keep it at the right consistency; soft enough to avoid injury but hard enough so as not to impede the wrestlers' movements. During wrestling or practice sessions, every wrestler has to wear Langot, a type of an attire consisting of a loincloth or underwear which is usually worn by the Indian mud wrestler before entering the Akhara. Kushti isn't just a sport — it's an ancient subculture where wrestlers live and train together and follow strict rules on everything from what they can eat to what they can do in their spare time. The focus is on living a pure life, building strength and honing their wrestling skills.

It is said that the clay has medicinal properties, which will heal the wounds of the Pehlwans who wrestle in the mud-pit. Here the wrestler applies it over his body and on his face.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian takes a break during a training session on May 9, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian feeds his son Lucas, 2, on July 7, 2019, at their home in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Coach Daniel Edouard (L) helps train Ducas Delian on May 24, 2019, in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian practices his punching moves during a training session on May 24, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

The shadow of Ducas Delian is seen on the wall as his son Lucas Delian, 2, watches cartoons on the laptop at their home on July 7, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian changes the diaper of his son Lucas, 2, at their home on July 7, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian watches a boxing match on YouTube while he eats his breakfast at his home in Port-au-Prince before leaving for work on July 8, 2019.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Coach Daniel Edouard (L) helps Ducas Delian during a training session on May 9, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian sweating during a training session on May 24, 2019 in Port-au-Prince.

Delian, 34, is a single father and a self-taught heavyweight boxer who earns a living through giving private boxing classes. He considers a decision by Haiti's boxing federation not to let him fight in tournaments as unfair, and he feels betrayed by the federation: "I guess it's all about who you know and it's all about who you are friends with. It is so hard to succeed in anything in this country." Delian says coach Daniel Edouard promised to send him on a tournament but later told him, "You are not capable." During an interview, Edouard said he saw Olympic potential in Delian.

Ducas Delian gets ready for work at his house on July 8, 2019, in Port-au-Prince.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is waiting for the right wave to enter the sea.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is riding a wave.

"Écumes" (sea foam in French) is a series of photographs capturing the different phases of a surfing session, from setting out on the open sea to returning ashore. The waves are frozen here and seem to be on the verge of devouring those who venture into them. The photos encapsulate the ephemeral state of the matter from which the wave is woven by capturing its textures and colors. The series questions man's place in nature and his use of it.

A surfer is leaving the wave.

A man collecting water from a hand pump on Mousuni Island while huge tidal waves roll in. A wall that once sheltered the pump from the waves has been destroyed by erosion. Tidal flooding has increased due to the rise in the sea level, causing extensive damage to the island.

Living on the edge

Fishermen catching fish at Jamuna River in Bogra, Bangladesh.

Fishing at Jamuna

When you look a humpback whale in the eye, it looks back at you, and you are struck by the realization that this is a sentient being. It is an otherworldly experience to share the ocean with these gentle giants, whose measurements defy description. The Polynesian archipelago has one of the world’s biggest whale populations. Tourists come from all over to marvel at their sheer size in person. Among the first countries to outlaw whaling, Tonga has been a leader in whale and marine conservation. The whale population around Polynesia has been growing gradually.

Circle of lIfe

Budapest's downtown from above in the blue hour.

Blue hour

Parishioners of the Church of the All-Merciful Savior (Belokrinitsky Agreement community of Old Believers) are carrying a memorial cross to install it on the site of former Old Believers’ sketes. The Old Believers were, in fact, the first Russian settlers in the Middle Urals, where they helped make up the workforce of the Demidov factories. The Old Believers could live in relative safety there.

Old Believers carry a cross to erect it on the site of the hermitages

The Pink Festival is held in the city of Kolhapur, Maharashtra State, India.

Pink festival

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

A woman walks her dog, in the background there is the abandoned Vorkuta village of Rudnik.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Sergey and Olga – former employees of the Vorkuta mines, in their apartment in the Vorkuta village of Severny.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Dormitory in Vorkuta.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Two friends playing musical instruments during dinner.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

A monument to the victims of repression who died in the Gulag in the abandoned village of Rudnik.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Herbs are grown indoors all year round because it is impossible to grow them outdoors.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Children swim in the Vorkuta river.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

A miner at the Vorkuta mine Komsomolskaya returns home from his work.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Memorial to the miners and rescue workers killed by an explosion at the Severnaya mine in 2016.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Lenin Street in Vorkuta in the fog. In the background there is the administrative building of Vorkutaugol company (Severstal). In the second half of December a polar night sets in. The daylight in Vorkuta at this time of the year lasts only an hour and a half.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

At a boarding school for the children of reindeer herders in the Vorkuta village of Vorgashor, pupils stand near the “chum” (a traditional reindeer raw-hide tent) in one of the classrooms.

Vorkuta is the fourth largest city beyond the Arctic Circle, the easternmost city in Europe. The main city area is surrounded by a dense ring of workers' settlements. Almost as soon as Vorkuta was founded, it became home to one of the largest Gulag camps, to which prisoners from all over the world were exiled. By 1951 there were 73,000 people in the camp, including foreigners. That is why the city was given a second, unofficial name “capital of the world.” Vorkuta's population is rapidly shrinking — it ranks first in the country in terms of the rate of population decline. While in the 1990s more than 110,000 people lived here, now it has a population of less than 60,000. The villages built beside the mines were the first to die out. Nowadays, most of them look like ghost towns. People leave their houses and apartments, throwing away furniture and other items that are too expensive to transport from this remote corner of Russia. They leave their personal histories and their former lives behind them in Vorkuta.

Reindeer herders waiting for a reindeer team race during the City Day celebration.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Aerial photography – all photos were taken from a helicopter using medium format cameras. Bauxite ore is the world’s primary source of aluminum. It has a characteristic reddish tint because of its high aluminum oxide and hydroxide content. For this reason, bauxite is particularly suitable for aluminum production – also against the background of the increasing demand for aluminum worldwide, because bauxite is an efficient method of manufacturing the metal. Nonetheless, the processing of bauxite involves high energy consumption, and the escape of a lot of heat. It also requires the use of large areas of the land which will need to be rehabilitated in the future. The mining areas, which are usually several hectares in size, are controversial, but if you look at them from an aerial perspective, especially the tailing ponds, they look like huge abstract oil paintings.

The face of bauxite mining – the source of our aluminum.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Yelena looks in the mirror in her studio in Tazovsky.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Forest along the road to Tazovsky village. Tazovsky is located north of the Arctic circle, with harsh long winters and strong winds.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Yelena and her friend Larisa inside a raw-hide tent in the courtyard of the local museum.Yelena was born in the north of the Gyda Peninsula, in the northernmost settlement of Yamal’s Tazovsky District that can be accessed only by helicopter or snowmobile. Yelena holds warm memories of her childhood, and visits her relatives on holidays.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Abandoned boats on the bank of the River Taz in Tazovsky.Founded in 1883 on the site of an old Nenets cemetery, Tazovsky was once a fishing town called Khalmer-Sede (Mount of the Dead). Today, the village is the seat of the district authorities, with new residential buildings and a vibrant economy.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Yelena often sews with her friends in her studio.A small but cozy apartment. Yelena fires up a gas stove to warm the room. To her right sits her friend Larisa, who also moved to Tazovsky. Creativity brought the two women together. Now Larisa also sews traditional Nenets clothes.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Tazovsky, Yamal-Nenets Autonomous Area, is a village with about 7,000 residents.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Typical things Yelena uses for sewing.Yelena uses fish skins, deer sinew and fur, quail beaks and many other things. It is common for people in the tundra to use everything they can get from a dead animal.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

When Yelena moved from a raw-hide tent to the village, getting used to a new life was hard. Sometimes she puts het mattress on the floor, and washes her face with snow in winter, instead of using water and soap. It is always cold in her apartment.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

A stuffed reindeer at the Tazovsky local history museum.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Tazovsky village, Yamal-Nenets Autonomous Area.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Yelena on the balcony of her studio. Nature and animals serve as a source of inspiration for her.

Raised in the tundra, Yelena learned sewing from her grandma and hunting from her father. After leaving her husband, she moved to Tazovsky. At first, she sewed to support her children, but went on to become an acclaimed designer of traditional Nenets clothing and a steward of her culture. Her work earned her recognition from the Italian Vogue. She is proud of her culture and wants to promote it.

Yelena’s frozen fish.Yelena prepared stroganina for District Day at Tazovsky. These are thin slices of frozen fish or meat, served raw. Yelena prefers fresh reindeer meat and fish her relatives bring her from the tundra.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

Economic problems affect people’s psychological and mental state and they are swamped by thoughts about how to find a way out.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A view of a permanently closed amusement park in the southern part of Tehran.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A young student smokes a cigarette in Daneshjoo park in central Tehran. Most youngsters feel a sense of hopelessness and their plans for the future are vague and confusing.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

People walking on a street. In recent years, the rise in tension between the leadership in Iran and America has affected everyday life and people have become pessimistic about present and future possibilities.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A street vendor at a flea market in the suburbs of Tehran. In recent years, as a result of sanctions and mismanagement, many workshops have been forced to close or have gone bankrupt and people have started selling on the street to provide for their families.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A middle-aged man on the sidewalk.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A man in a café in the city.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A street peddler at a flea market in the city of Parand in Tehran’s suburbs. In recent years, as a result of sanctions and mismanagement, many workshops have been forced to close and other have gone bankrupt. People have resorted to selling on the street to provide for their families.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A street peddler at a flea market in the city of Parand in Tehran’s suburbs. In recent years, as a result of sanctions and mismanagement, many workshops have been forced to close and other have gone bankrupt. People have resorted to selling on the street to provide for their families.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

A few people sit on benches in Tehran’s City Park. The pressure created by sanctions has made life more difficult for Iranians and people are anxious about their ability to provide for their families, giving rise to violence, seclusion, isolation and depression.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

Some youngsters in “Baam-e-Shahr” in Tehran. The social and economic situation in the country has caused them to lose any hope of achieving their goals.

Following the Iranian Revolution of 1979, the United States imposed sanctions against Iran. In 2006, following discussions around the Iranian Nuclear Program, the US, UN and other Western nations expanded the sanctions. The restrictions hobbled Iran’s economy and led to widespread pessimism among Iranians about their future. I photographed this series in the streets of Tehran at the peak of the sanctions period between 2018 and 2019. In recent years, many problems have arisen in people’s lives as a result of the pressure of sanctions on the one hand and the economic mismanagement of the country on the other. During this time, people lived constantly under the shadow of war. They also witnessed their purchasing power decrease as the prices went up daily. For me, the street scenes represent the deep inner life of Iranian society. On the streets, on buses, and in the subways, I saw people, so immersed in their thoughts, that their surroundings lost all meaning, ceased to exist, leaving them lost, frightened and not knowing what to do.

Economic problems have affected people’s psychological and mental health, meaning that they are constantly swamped in thoughts about how to find a way out. Экономические проблемы сказываются на

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A Hausa-Fulani boy stands while his cattle graze next to some farms on the outskirts of Sokoto, Sokoto State, Nigeria on April 22, 2019. A massive expansion of farming and a change of climate, attributed directly or indirectly to human activity in Nigeria, have cut access to grazing land for nomadic herders and fuelled persistent violence.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A group of Fulani girls gather inside an empty classroom before the day's lessons begin at Wuro Fulbe Nomadic School in Kachia Grazing Reserve for Fulani people, Kaduna State, Nigeria on April 19, 2019. The National Commission for Nomadic Education and the National Nomadic Education Programme were created to ensure equal access to basic education for Nigeria’s nomadic and semi nomadic populations. Nowadays, due to the lack of resources for this national program, classes are overcrowded with students.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A Fulani Muslim man prays during his pilgrimage to the tombe ofUsman dan Fodio, in Sokoto, Sokoto State, Nigeria on April 24, 2019. Usman Dan Fodio was a prominent Fulani religious leader, promoter of Islam and the founder of the Sokoto Caliphate. The ongoing strife between Muslim herders and Christian farmers, sometimes masking conflicts arising from religious differences, is a divisive issue for Nigeria and a number of other countries in West Africa.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

Hausa-Fulani pastoralists and cattle buyers wait for the cattle transactions to begin while sitting on a metal fence at Kara Cattle Market in Lagos, Nigeria on April 10, 2019. Kara cattle market in Agege, Lagos is one of the largest in West Africa receiving thousands of cattle weekly due to the massive consumption of meat in the Lagos area.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

An 8-year-old Fulani boy, Suleiman Yusuf, drinks milk from a cow belonging to his father’s cattle near his family home on Kachia Grazing Reserve, Kaduna State, Nigeria on April 16, 2019. Kachia Grazing Reserve is an area set aside for the use of Fulani pastoralists and intended as a center for livestock development. The grazing reserves were intended to prevent conflict by encouraging the nomadic pastoralists to settle through the provision of land for grazing and a constant supply of water.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A Fulani girl waits outside her house at Kachia Grazing Reserve, Kaduna State, Nigeria on April 16, 2019. Kachia Grazing Reserve is an area set aside for the use by Fulani pastoralists and it is intended to be a center of livestock development. The purpose of the grazing reserves is avoiding conflict through the settlement of nomadic pastoralists and encouraging them to adopt a sendentary lifestyle by providing land for grazing and constant access to water.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

Herdsmen with their cattle wait for buyers at Kara Cattle Market in Lagos, Nigeria on April 10, 2019. The Kara cattle market in Agege, Lagos is one of the largest in West Africa, with thousands of cattle offered for sale weekly due to the massive consumption of meat in the Lagos area.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A farmer and his son work at a farm on the outskirts of Sokoto, Sokoto State, Nigeria on April 22, 2019. A massive expansion of farming in Nigeria has cut access to grazing land for nomadic herders and fuelled persistent violence.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A Nigerian Police Officer patrols part of the Adara farmers' village of Angwa Aku, Kaduna State, Nigeria where the houses were destroyed and burned in a Fulani attack on April 14, 2019. The ongoing strife between Muslim herders and Christian farmers, which claimed nearly 2,000 lives in 2018 and displaced hundreds of thousands of people, is a divisive issue in Nigeria and some other countries in West Africa.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

Monica Gabriel, an Adara farmer woman in a bed at Nassara Hospital, Kajuru, Kaduna State, Nigeria on April 14, 2019, recovering from injuries sustained in a recent Fulani machete attack and shooting at her village. Monica was allegedly shot and attacked with machetes by a group of Fulanis who even cut one of her hands off. The ongoing strife between Muslim herders and Christian farmers, which claimed nearly 2,000 lives in 2018 and displaced hundreds of thousands of others, is a divisive issue in Nigeria and some other countries in West Africa.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

A group of Christian Adara farmers attend Sunday service at Ecwa Church, Kajuru, Kaduna State, Nigeria on April 14, 2019. The ongoing strife between Muslim herders and Christian farmers, which claimed nearly 2,000 lives in 2018 and displaced hundreds of thousands of others, is a divisive issue in Nigeria and some other countries in West Africa.

With a population of more than 200 million people and an emerging middle class, Nigeria is witnessing a boom in demand for meat that offers potential but also poses risks to the Fulani nomadic and semi-nomadic herders who provide most of the country’s beef. Climate change is turning the semi-arid land which is usually used for grazing, into a desert, prompting the migration of the Fulani communities. This, as well as increased demand for land in Nigeria, has exacerbated tensions between farmers, who are predominantly Christian, and herdsmen, who are mainly Muslim. The conflict is far from straightforward, with frustrations on both sides: farmers see their crops destroyed by livestock, while Fulani herdsmen see their way of life under threat as grazing land is repurposed for agriculture. The clashes have occurred on West Africa's historic Muslim-Christian fault line. Yet the conflict goes beyond religion, bringing into focus issues like population growth and climate change in fuelling disputes over land.

Mohammed Abubakar Bambado, the Sarkin Fulani of Lagos, poses for a portrait on his throne at his palace in the district of Surulere in Lagos, Nigeria on April 29, 2019. Mohammed Bambado is a prominent businessman who was crowned as King Sarkin Fulani of Lagos, and Chairman of the Association of Fulani Chiefs in South West Nigeria. He advocates and protects the interests of Fulani and Hausa-Fulani pastoralists in the Lagos State and other parts of South West Nigeria.

Wrangel Island is the northernmost protected island in the Russian Arctic. The Arctic Ocean divides the island almost into two parts at Meridian 180, so it is located in the Western and Eastern hemispheres of our planet. Visiting Wrangel Island Nature Reserve is restricted, but there are about 10 tourist routes in summer and autumn. Tourists can only enter the reserve accompanied by rangers. They monitor the safety of the tourists and animals that live on the island. This photo depicts Pavel Kulemeyev, a researcher at Wrangel Island Nature Reserve, in his "natural habitat." Pavel graduated from Katanov Khakassia State University and has been working in the reserve since January 2018 – now he is not only a scientist and inspector at the reserve, but also a polar explorer. After all, the conditions on the island are really tough.

Wrangel Island

Valentina is one of the four remaining civilians living in the frontline town of Pesky, one of the most dangerous places along the frontline. Although she lives on government-controlled territory, she is a passionate separatist with framed photos of Putin and Russian flags lining her walls. Without electricity, running water or friends, she relies entirely on the Ukrainian soldiers living next door to survive. She calls it "living from the hand of the enemy." With no hope for the future and nothing but bitter hatred keeping her alive, Valentina has only her cat for company. She wishes to one day see her grandchildren, who live only a few kilometers away in the separatist territory. "I wish this war would sink into the ground, down to hell where it belongs. The land is covered in bullets, shrapnel and landmines and is drenched in the tears and blood of those who died. I soak my clothes in tears from sunrise to sunset.”

Valentina

Batman in his car sending a voice message as he leaves the hospital. For the past six years, every first Friday of the month an unknown man gets home from work only to suit up again – but this time to put on his supersuit – and goes to pay a visit to the Children’s Hospital in La Plata, Argentina. He has a very special goal: to share joyful moments and spend quality time with the patients. These patients are children who can be just months old and up to 16 years old. Batman seeks to ease the suffering of these boys and girls during a hard time in their lives. His utility belt is equipped with color pencils and coloring books, which he leaves as gifts for the kids. During his visits he’s always accompanied by a sister from the hospital convent. The sister informs him about each child’s condition. Twice a year he hosts his famous “bat-meetings,” special social events to help raise funds for the hospital. Our local dark knight keeps on writing his legacy.

Batman in his car sending a voice message as he leaves the hospital.

Cynthia is 16 years old and lives in a vulnerable neighborhood in Tucumán, Argentina. She struggles with addiction and does not go to school. In Argentina, adolescents live daily with vulnerability issues such as drug, alcohol and cigarette abuse, unwanted pregnancies and domestic violence. Argentina doesn’t have a state policy seeking to improve the lives of these teenagers.

In the shadow

Sanjid Islam Supta, a cosplayer dressed as the Joker, took part in a cosplay competition organized by St. Joseph Higher Secondary School in Dhaka, Bangladesh on September 28, 2019. Cosplay, or costume play, has evolved into an independent art form in Bangladesh and around the world. The trend has spread through many comic or pop culture conventions and online platforms. Young people find it fascinating as it helps them to experience life through the eyes of their favorite characters.

A Bangladeshi cosplayer in a Joker costume

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

A scar on the chest of Enrico, who had an open heart operation as a child.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

L'Aquila is the largest construction site in Europe, but for these guys it's normal, they don't have memories of how it was before. The photo was taken on the Belvedere Bridge.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

A marble structure with arches in a public park on the outskirts of the city.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

The boys, having nowhere to meet, they also spend time in the park.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

Enrico in his kitchen. He lives with his mother in temporary housing built between 2009 and 2010 as part of Berlusconi’s so-called "CASE projects." They are still living here though and who knows for how long.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

Enrico with Emma, one of his close friends.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

Francesco with Enrico's grandmother, they spent years in each other’s company. Today, Enrico's grandmother lives in a retirement home for elderly people, but Francesco often goes to say hello.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

Enrico adjusts a canopy at his house.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

Enrico at a house hit by the earthquake: the restoration work continues in the city.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

The boys in front of their school, a temporary structure (part of the MUSP project to build temporary school facilities). For these children the school has played a fundamental role in the years following the earthquake.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

The boys, with a dog, in the still of the city ruins.

Quatrani is the local term for “youngsters" in the Italian city of l'Aquila. It has been ten years since the earthquake that shook the Italian city, causing hundreds of deaths and injuries and leaving many people homeless. The children of what is now known as The Forbidden City have turned 18 years of age. They have grown up without a hometown, a safe place they can call “home.” Nevertheless, these children have managed to find a sense of belonging in the bond they share with one another. They started to give the name “home” to the solid friendship they have built by going through the same experience with remarkable strength. “When an earthquake takes away the place you are from, you need to find it again. You need to find it where there is not a thing in sight and you have nothing more to hope for but the company of your family and friends. Find home in those who love you.” “The earthquake was sort of Year One. People don’t say, for example, ‘it happened in 2006,’ but they either refer to ‘pre-earthquake’ or ‘post-earthquake.’” (Voices of the young people who lived through those times.)

The boys all together lying on a lawn just after the end of a two-day summer festival. For them it was a unique experience to see a festival in their city.

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Shiva was born in Tehran, Iran, in 1998. She says: "No one is born with this hair color, so I dye mine."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Aida was born in 1996, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "With colors I can find myself or in other words, I invent myself."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Azin was born in 1999, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "It's about the character that I create with each color. I am made of colors."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Hamta was born in 1994, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "Colors are interesting to me when they can change the nature of things."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Marzieh was born in 1997, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "For me, colors are power and energy."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Setareh was born in 1995, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "The world is colorful and so am I."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Marjan was born in 1995, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "I always change my identity whenever I begin to feel an inner emptiness."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Mahla was born in 1992, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "One day the thought occurred to Franz Marc: I must paint horses in the color blue."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Mahtab was born in 1988, in Tehran, Iran. She says: “I love colors, I love their transparency and the happiness which lives in it.”

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Sahel was born in 1998, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "Red is the only color that lends the hand of friendship to me and makes peace with me and the other colors. Both playfulness and modesty live in red.”

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Elnaz was born in 1997, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "Colors remind me that I'm alive."

In a society like mine, there are always plenty of diverse options and approaches to thinking and acting, which inevitably contradict each other. Shortly after the Islamic Revolution (1979), it became mandatory for every woman to wear a hijab in public, a procedure challenged by many activists and remaining somewhat controversial even today. The collection that you see (I named it "The Smarties") includes photographs of Iranian girls that I met during my wanderings in Tehran. I was watching them and asked myself what influence color had on the formation of their identity. They represent the generation of the 1990s (and some 1980s). In my view, the Smarties are usually fighters, courageous and libertarian, who see their body as a clean sheet or a blank canvas on which any image can be created. Each of them can rivet my attention for hours. I watch them, I think about them, and I listen to their unique stories.

Naghmeh was born in 1986, in Tehran, Iran. She says: "I fear being stereotyped so I take refuge in colors."

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 30th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. A portrait of LEMUEL LLERZON HILACHOQUE, 9 years old. Lemuel was born near the mine, suffering from birth defects. He is deaf in one ear. His family does not have money to pay for his medical care.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 30th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of FRANK ALTAMARI, 15 years old.
Frank was born 500 meters from the extraction site. He has mental and physical disabilities. According to his father, Don Teofilo Altamari, it is a consequence of the contamination of water and soil by the mine.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

May 1st, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. A portrait of MARIA USCA CARRILLO, 60 years old. Maria said that the construction of the mine began when she was 16. The company misled local residents, who at first were supportive of the project. After years of unfulfilled promises, pollution, and the expropriation of property, locals are tired, discouraged, and demanding justice.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 29th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. A portrait of MELCHORA CCAMAQE USCA, 63 years old. Melchora says the mining company fraudulently acquired her property, deceiving her and her family with false documents and promises that have not been honored. The problems with the mining company began in 1982 and Melchora is still hoping the situation will change for the better.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

May 1st, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. A portrait of HILDA LUNA, 56 years old. Hilda belongs to the Israelites religious community. She finds solace in religion, placing her hopes and trust for the future in it. Thanks to her religion, she feels like a member of a community, where people listen and help when problems arise.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 28th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of ALBERTO HUALLPA SALCEDO, 30 years old. Alberto was injured by the mining company’s security guards during protests in 2012. Peaceful protests against the mining company known as “ Espinar se llevanta” were organized by members of Espinar’s indigenous population who were demanding that their rights be respected. Alberto is still waiting for medical assistance and his compensation for his injuries.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

May 1st, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of GREGORIA CHARCA CORDOVA, 56 years old. The mining company illegally appropriated property belonging to Gregoria and her husband in Juani community. They moved to Espinar to work and when they returned home, the mining company owned their property.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 30th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of ROFINO CHAMBI, 67 years old. Rofino has lived in Tintaya Marquiri for 45 years. He and his family were living near the mine until the company took their land and house to build a slag heap on the site. His wife died of cancer. They had no money for her medical treatment. Rofino is still waiting to be paid for the land and house taken by the mine.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 27th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of LEONARDO LABRA, 66 years old. Leonardo’s lungs have been damaged by the fine powder released during the extraction process at the mine. Despite the fact that he has reported the situation in Espinar to the police and government delegates, nobody wants to investigate. There are no health care facilities to take care of people after a high level of heavy metals is detected in their bodies.

The series of portraits shot in Espinar district, near the huge Tintaya and Antapaccay copper mine complex, tells the story of Peruvian people affected by environmental pollution caused by the mining. The colored backgrounds represent their feeling of hope. In last few years, mineral extraction has become a backbone of the economy, replacing the agricultural economy in local communities. At the same time, the rights of the indigenous population have been violated. Malnutrition and contaminated resources affect people’s health, and many children are born with mental and physical disabilities. However, there is no health care system to help them. The Peruvian Constitution stipulates respect for the territories and cultural identities of these communities, but this is not complied with, leading to violent suppression of social protest by the police. Land exploitation is a common problem in Latin America and it shows how a new form of colonialism is creating profit by spoiling local communities.

April 30th, 2019, Espinar, Cusco Region, Peru. Portrait of SERGIO HUAMANI HILARIO, 44 years old. Sergio is the leader of the Frente Único de Defensa de los Intereses de Espinar (FUDIE). The organization aims to improve the living conditions of the local residents in Espinar. He highlights the gravity of the pollution problem in the area. Because the Peruvian government and local authorities will not listen to the local people, a few years ago FUDIE filed a complaint against Glencore in a London court but, still, nothing has changed.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

Lord Krishna.Nonichura Chowdhury Byadh as Lord Krishna.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The Nawab Siraj ud-Daulah.Harihar Das as Siraj ud-Daulah, the last independent nawab of Bengal.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The Nagraj, snake king.Shyamsundar Chowdhury Byadh as the Nagraj (snake king) sits on the branch of a tree.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The Arjuna.A melancholy Arjuna, performed by Basudeb Chowdhury Byadh, awaits the start of war.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

Indra, king of all gods.The powerful Devaraj Indra (the king of all gods) as portrayed by Sashibhusan Das.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The goddess Kali.The goddess Kali, performed by Santosh Das.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The resting Ravana.Basudeb Das Bayen as the Ravana (demon) takes a rest and contemplates his next moves.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

Two birds.The brothers Narayan and Khiti dressed as birds.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

When gods are gossiping with each other.Lord Krishna gives advice to his friend Arjuna.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

Bear dance.Saktipada Bera romps as a bear.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

The little Lord Shiva.A young boy named Chottu in the role of Lord Shiva. The smoke is too much for his eyes.

This ongoing series documents the Bediya of India, who practice the ancient art Bahurupi, meaning many (bahu) forms (rupa). Bediya are “untouchables” from the lower caste and can only find menial jobs. To survive they move around the country performing as once popular mythological characters who are all but forgotten today.

Agni, the fire god.Agnidev, the fire god, admires his creation. Sashibhusan Das plays Agnidev here.