Music is everywhere ...

Here is my latest post for the Toronto Star. In Nepal, music is everywhere and I had been hoping to write a post about it for some time.

A very special thank you ...

Mike, Myself and Ashish (our wonderful translator) filming Rampiyari, 29, outside her home in Dolakha.

Now that my time in Nepal is nearing an end, I have so many people to thank for this wonderful experience. But I would like to start with the amazing people at Carleton’s Instructional Media Services and Sony Canada.

From the moment I found out I was headed to Nepal, I knew I wanted to try to shoot this documentary in high definition. And Sony was kind enough to let me take their super awesome EX1R camcorder along for the ride.

Recording in remote villages was not always easy. Having accumulated countless cuts and bruises and made it through a few precarious bouts of food poisoning, there were times when I thought ‘what the heck have I gotten myself into!?’.

But whenever I went back and watched the incredibly vivid and sharp footage, it made everything worth while. I never realized just how rewarding it would be to sit in front of a computer screen and see colours and images that look even better than what you see with your own eyes. It really is the next best thing to being there yourself. I have fallen in love with documentary filmmaking, and I have no doubt that this camera is part of the reason. It certainly was the right tool for the job. And I cannot wait to get back home and check it out on a big screen.

Sony's EX1R camera doing its thing at dusk in Dolakha

The very talented Mike Lundin did the shooting for this film. A self-proclaimed camera-nerd, watching him play with the EX1R was like watching a kid in a candy store. Mike has been in the film industry for the past decade and has even produced and shot a wonderful doc titled Porters of the Inca Trail. He says the camera was a pleasure to film with. Beyond the high quality lens and easy-to-navigate menu he was particularly excited about the rotating grip (a new feature that cannot be found on its predecessor, or any other similar camera so far as we can tell). It goes to show that even seemingly small design differences can make all the difference when you’re filming in the blazing sun in 40 degree weather.

Personally, I am impressed by how the camera reacts to low light. A few weeks back we got stuck in a very small village on the border of India after sunset. We needed to interview Anita, one of our main characters, but our camera light ran out of batteries. We ended up using a shotty flashlight borrowed from a local and candlelight to illuminate her face. I was so nervous it would look awful the entire time we were recording, but I think, in the end, it looked absolutely stunning. And that really is a testament to the camera.

And of course, the landscape shots. Nepal is a strikingly beautiful place, so we took full advantage of its rolling hills, majestic mountains and vast plains. We picked up a polarizer filter to help add contrast to overexposed areas. It helped tremendously, especially when recording the sky at dusk or dawn.

The fast motion function is pretty cool as well. It admittedly took a little willpower for me to refrain from shooting half the doc fast-paced. Check out the clip below of people bustling around Patan’s Durbar Square and you'll know what I mean. I just love this shot.

Transferring all the footage from the solid state media cards was much less cumbersome than carrying tapes and very easy once we got the work flow down - export through a clip browser program, import into Final Cut Pro. Voila! We transferred in the middle of the mountains, in the centre of a tiny village with no electricity for miles and even in the back of a moving jeep. Just another day at the office.

As journalists, the story is paramount. And this experience has taught me that technology can help the story along just like compelling characters and a solid focus can. Vivid images and crystal clear sound help get the message across to an audience and that’s what’s important.

Here are a few more clips. I wish I could show them to you in HD. I have had to compress them substantially. Uploading crawls along at a snails pace over here. But you'll see the real deal soon enough.

Again. A very big thank you to Sony Canada, most notably Brian Young and Penny Rutherford of Dynamix in Ottawa. This has been one of the best experiences of my life and I am so grateful for their generosity and support. I would also like to thank Tim, Bernie and Dave from Carleton's IMS department for putting up with me, even when I called them in a panic from rural Nepal! Their patience and assistance went above and beyond. When I say that this project would not have happened without them I sincerely mean it. I am very lucky.

This video clip is a rough edit of a sequence of Anita, another character in the doc. Music by Kiran Nepali, who plays the sarangi in a very famous folk band here called Kutumba.

This is the fast-pace function on the EX1R at work. People bustle around Patan's Durbar square - located on the outskirts of Kathmandu - during dinnertime.

We used a cracked flashlight and a kerosene candle to light this interview with Anita. When viewed in full HD I think it looks really interesting and adds a compelling dimension.

The festival of rain hits the capital

Here is my latest post for the Toronto Star's New Kids on the Blog.

It's Rato Machhendranath Jatra here, and this festival is like nothing I have ever experienced before.

I hope you enjoy the piece. It is definitely worth checking out for the video (shot by the very talented Michael Lundin) alone.

A few of my favourite clips...

In the past six weeks we have gathered over 30 hours of footage. Now that shooting is complete, the somewhat tedious task of organizing reels and translating three different dialects begins.

Grappling with electrical cuts and transferring issues took a bit of time to get video posted on the blog. My apologies. There is more to come. But I wanted to share a few very short clips with you for now.

These clips were all shot on Sony's EX1R HD camcorder. The camera has been an absolute dream.

Junita is the 5-year-old daughter of one of the main characters in the documentary. She is playing in a corn field in her village of Amahi, in Nepal's Terai.

An infant feeds his mother in Dolakha, Nepal. We shot this in the recovery room at a government sponsored health camp for 'fallen womb.' Over 130 hysterectomies were completed in three days.

Buddhist prayer flags catch a breeze at sunset.

Top of the district to top of the charts ...

We hung out with these awesome kids while filming in Jamunai Mathyapur, a small village in Nepal's Terai. They were so entertaining we just had to put them on-camera. I am told this is a very famous song in the region.

It's called 'Jila top lagela', loosely translated as "top of the district." The song is about a boy singing to a girl. He says that when she puts her lipstick on she is the most beautiful in the district. And, when she moves her hips it's like a lollipop - although I am admittedly a little confused by how hips move like lollipops.

It is sung in the bhojpuri dialect.

Faces of Nepal

Having spent the past six weeks traveling through Nepal, I have been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of this beautiful country with one eye behind the camera lens.

Along the way I have been collecting pictures of the faces of Nepali women, men and children - some have become my friends, others were gracious enough to let me in for a fleeting moment.

This blog post encompasses some of the faces of Nepal. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Namaste

There is no mistaking, I am utterly smitten with Nepal.

Having just returned from an eight day trek through the majestic peaks of the Anapurna mountain range, I have become swept up in the beauty and reverence of this incredible place.

But beyond the striking scenery. And the rich bubbling history marked with temples and monuments, it’s how the Nepali people say “hello” that has me so enchanted.

“Namaste,” pronounced Nam-a-stay.

It’s a word you hear so often in Nepal it becomes as common as the frenetic sounds of car horns or motor bikes.

Photo: I remember this little boy had his hands clasped together for quite some time. I didn't realize he was waiting for me to turn around so that he could say "Namaste."

Whether you're walking the streets of Kathmandu or trekking through the mighty Himalayas, the Nepali people always have time for a heartfelt “Namaste.”

Derived from Sanskrit, the salutation is used across the country by its ethnically diverse population.

Loosely translated as “I bow to you”, small children, farmers or shop owners will place their hands, palms touching, in front of their heart. An ever so slight bow of the head comes in tandem.

It is this one simple gesture that gives me butterflies. Amidst the difficult grind of daily life and the political uncertainties currently strong-arming the nation, for me, it speaks volumes about the amicability of the Nepali people.

Photo: We had barely made it out of the car during a recent trip to Dolokha before this woman welcomed us with a customary "Namaste."

“It’s different from where you come from,” my friend Aruna, who has been helping me film here in Kathmandu joked with me recently. “Here in Nepal, we always have time to stop, to greet, to say hello.”

It is a lesson I will take with me always - as a friend, a daughter, a journalist and also a perfect stranger.

Palms touching, hands in-front-of-heart, the collective ability of the people to take a literal breath and acknowledge one another is the most beautiful thing I have seen during my time here in Nepal.

Namaste. I bow to you.

Isn't it just lovely?

Photo: I snapped this photo right before this woman greeted us with a kind "Namaste."

Trip to the Terai

Photo: Filmmaker Mike Lundin and myself logging footage in the field.

It has been two days since we returned from the Terai - which, just to mention, was a casual 45 C degrees. We shot for 12 hours straight in the blazing sun in rural villages most days. It has taken me the past 48 hours to recover from heat stroke (or whatever it was that made me feel like I had been hit by a truck). But I’m back and feeling much better.

Photo: A snapshot of Lahan. A city in Nepal's Terrai region near the border of India

The trip was nothing short of eventful.

Perhaps I should be begin with what Mike (my calm and collected colleague) and I now fondly refer to as the “bus ride of death.” Hand-on-horn, our driver sped like he had some kind of death wish - dodging oncoming traffic and several ominous cliff drops by inches. I couldn’t figure out why he gave the entire bus plastic bags before departing from Kathmandu. But when a good chunk of the passengers began throwing up in them through the windy mountain roads it became quite clear.

After dropping our stuff off at a motel we hit the villages with Rakesh, our trustworthy guide and translator. If I’ve learned anything in the past few weeks it is to always expect the unexpected. It wasn’t long before our driver drove the jeep directly into a sand trap and we had to dig it out with the help of 20 Nepali locals. Did I mention it was 45 degrees?

Photo: A somewhat feeble attempt to push the jeep out of the sand.

During our second day of shooting we planned to travel by bus to Biratnagar - the second largest city in Nepal - to follow a group of women who were scheduled to receive surgery for fallen womb. Only on this day an opposition political party had called a bandh (or strike). It’s a common occurrence in Nepal. When a group doesn’t like a certain policy they ostensibly shut the region down. No one really drives for fear of being lobbed with rocks, or, worse, having their vehicles burned.

The aid organization we were with took the risk and rented two vans. With all the NGO papers on-hand the plan was to try and smooth over the protestors if stopped.Thankfully we were never stopped. But while we made it to Biratnagar safe and sound, we were too late at the hospital and they refused to admit the women until the following morning. The hospital’s suggestion? For the women to sleep on the floor of the waiting room for the night.

Having a camera certainly worked in our favour in this case as the smooth-talking director of the hospital eventually agreed to admit the women after I explained to him that we were planning to document whatever unfolded if these poor women did not receive a bed.

So we spent the night in Biratnagar, which, I can say with certainty has not left me with the fondest of memories.

Enter the green motel that looked as if someone had thrown up split pea soup all over it... in every conceivable shade of green (and even a few I never knew existed). No electricity that night, so we slept in the heat fending off mosquitos. I have had a few vivid dreams about the green motel since - none pleasant and all of which ended like an Alfred Hitchcock movie. I’ll leave it there.

Photo: The Green Motel (in case I didn't do it justice)

All kidding and recounting aside, it was certainly the most difficult few days I have experienced in a long time. But an incredibly eye-opening journey - one which I am very grateful for. While there is nothing glamorous about this work, it feels right. And I am learning so many things every day.

The poverty in the Terai is quite astounding. There is no electricity, little water and even less food. As a journalist it was difficult to listen to what seemed like an endless supply of heart-wrenching stories. As a human being it was much harder to leave at the end of the day. There are hundreds of thousands in need in the region. The problem seems so vast and crushing it is overwhelming at times.

I hope the documentary will tell the story like how I experienced it with my own eyes.

Blood, sweat and tears ...

Before leaving for Nepal a friend of mine told me that documentaries are the blood, sweat and tears of the filmmaker.

It is some of the most sound advice I think I have ever gotten.

We just returned from Nepal's Terrai region. After 4 days solid of shooting in 45 C degree weather, I have returned to Kathmandu a little traumatized but still intact.

Here is my most recent post for the Toronto Star about one woman, Anita Sadaya, whom we met on the trip.

There are moments in everyone's lives that alter, in some way, the way we look at the world. For me, Anita was one of those moments.

More pictures and stories about the trip to come tomorrow. But for now ... sleep.

Hope everyone is doing great!

Jayme

First trip to the field...

Just returned from a whirlwind - or "ad hoc" as one of my new Nepali friends so aptly put it - trip to Timal (about 6 hours east of Kathmandu). A scramble at first, it was brilliant in the end! We traveled by jeep through the hills. The roads were rough, but the terrain breath-taking. We set-up our sleeping bags with a team of Nepalese and Dutch doctors in what looked to be a school for the night and the locals cooked wonderful Nepali dhal bhat for us to eat.

Once we got to the temporary health camp, run by a wonderful organization called Women for Women, we started shooting immediately.

I was surprise by how open and willing the women were to share their stories on-camera. I was worried they would be too shy. This particular camp was set up to address fallen womb - an epidemic in Nepal.

Over 600,000 women in the country suffer from the condition whereby the woman's uterus slips down and out of her body. Malnutrition, a lack of access to health-care and back breaking work in harsh conditions are contributing factors. It is incredibly painful, making it difficult for women to stand, walk, do their daily chores and even take care of their children.

Photo: Manual labour like this causes fallen womb in Nepal.

It has incredibly negative social consequences as well. We met one woman, Guna, 56, who had been suffering from fallen womb for over 20 years - she went on to have six more children after developing the problem.

Too embarrassed to tell her family, Guna simply lived with the pain, avoiding any village gatherings or festivals. She told us that she spent many many years depressed, suffering in silence.

The organization that we went with fit Guna yesterday with a specially designed ring to keep the womb in place. It cost is only about $2 or $3 Canadian. She says she is feeling much better today. It goes to show how simple solutions can make all the difference in the world.

Here are a few pictures from the trip:

Photo: A local girl moves livestock at dawn

Photo: Our neighbour. I fell head-over-heels for this little girl.

Photo: Women gather at the roving health clinic that was set up for two weeks

Photo: Our digs. The school where we slept. Definitely better than a tent or the car!

Photo: Women line up to collect water in Patan's Durbar Square

My new neighbourhood of Patan is a small enclave on the outskirts of Kathmandu. Most of the locals call it by its original Sanskrit name, Lalitput (the city of beauty). Just 100m from my hotel is Patan's Durbar Square that serves as the backdrop for the ancient palace of Patan.

It's a mass of stunning Newari architecture dating back to the 14th century. It's magical, really. The temples and stupas give the area a kind of reverence and soulfulness I've never seen before.

Photo: A group of Nepalese men gather in Patan's Durbar square

Photo: This woman suffers from a serious foot infection. She sat perched on a ledge all day because it's too uncomfortable to walk

Photo: This little boy was running cigarettes for a group of teenagers.

* Apologies for the low image quality. The internet is a little wonky here tonight and I had to lower the resolution drastically. Better ones to come as soon as I have a more solid connection.

I'm settling into this wonderful city. Kathmandu is a bustling place, everywhere you look there's a mass of people.

A lot like this traffic jam I stumbled upon this afternoon

NYC >> QATAR >>> KATHMANDU

Here goes nothing ...

Blogging from JFK airport. Waiting for my flight through Doha, Qatar then onto Kathmandu.

Please check out my very first post for the Toronto Star here.

More soon.

xo Jayme