Missing a Motive

A few days ago, in the slum of Shivaji Nagar, Bakes and I were shooting a little bit of b-roll as everyone else walked ahead.  There is brown standing water throughout the slum, all of which is filled with trash and swarmed by flies.  As we were rolling on some of the water, a kid about 5 years old walked straight into our shot, reached into the water, pulled out a pink sandal, put it on his foot, and walked away.  Thrilled about the shot that we just got I explained what had happened to my sister.  Her response was immediately to talk about how terrible the situation was and how many diseases that kid could get from the water.  I of course, thought it was a great shot for the documentary.  Jokingly, she said, "That's because you exploit people and I actually care."  I know she was kidding and doesn't believe that that's true.  However the last few days I've really been trying to figure out exactly why I'm here.

The only thing that is clear to me is that I'm trying to make the best piece I can make.  Why?  That's what I'm trying to find out.  Is it because I'm trying to help my sister further her career?  Is it because I'm actually trying to help these desperate people in the only way I know how?  Is it simply that I want to shoot something beautiful?  Am I viewing India from a 50mm lens, where everyone is a subject and nothing is real, unaffected by the sadness and misfortune that plagues the slum where I spend my days?  I wonder if I'm missing this place, if I'm too focused on a project.  I know that I have been touched here, and I know that I've been changed.  But maybe the situation these people live in, the fresh human feces that bake in the sun on the sidewalk, the drinking water that has to be strained of worms before consumption, the smell of burning trash, the bleeding goat carcass fresh off the blade that hangs from a hook in Ahraf's friend's shop, the dirt floating in the air so thick it hides the stars and almost the sun itself, maybe the situation these people live in is too much for me to take in.  Maybe my project is a coping technique.  Maybe I hide behind headphones because I don't want to hear these people struggle and beg for help.  Or maybe I want to help, in the only way I know how.  Or maybe I'm just a white kid from Colorado, who grew up next to snow-capped mountains, instead of mountains of trash, filth, and disease. 

-Brennan