Lars Just (Danish School of Journalism)
Award of Excellence | Portfolio
Rikke, dad and me
I comfort my girlfriend Rikke, as she cries at my grandmothers funeral. My dad, Steen, sits in the back. It was only during the last twelve months that I introduced Rikke to my grandmother. They became very fond of each other, and I became very happy, they got the chance to know each other, before it was too late. My grandma was found with a stroke in her bed, and died five days later at the hospital. I decided to photograph the days as they went by, to make a story about my her, to show my kids in the future. One thing is to take pictures of strangers, but this was a totally different thing. It's the hardest thing I have ever photographed.
Where she was born
Three days after my grandma was buried, I travelled north in search of her birthplace. Her death in the hospital had been peaceful, yet very sad. It took her little less than a week, and every day my mother and I visited her in the hospital room. The room was dark, with bad lighting, and I didn't feel good being there. I wanted to remember my final days with her in a bright way. The day she died, I decided to find the place, where she was born. Maybe that would tell me something about her, that I didn't know already. I left three days after, traveling to northern Denmark, where I came upon a small village. Surprisingly some of the people there actually remembered her, and pointed me towards an old house next to the church. A young girl let me in, and on the first floor I found the room, where my grandma had come into the world. It was like nothing I had imagined, colorful and bright, and though it probably looked different now, it still meant a great deal to me to be there. (It should be noted, that I double exposed the film while photographing the room.)
Unspoken Legacy
Tiny southeast asian Laos is a country of lines, tangents and hidden boundaries. Behind every rock, around waterholes and along both sides of the Ho Chi Minh Trail, invisible borders mark a clans language, a tigers habitat and some 80 million bombs, or UXO's (unexploded ordnance), still waiting to detonate. To cross a line might invite death, yet the laotians have no choice. The brave work the rice fields full of explosives, the desperate gather the UXO's to sell as scrap metal, to use in constructing cottages, to melt as spoons to sell at the local marked. In average, one person a day is killed or maimed. The 80 million UXO's are the legacy of a secret war in Laos. From 1963-1972 the CIA secretly bombed the country - making it the most heavily bombed country on Earth per capita - in an attempt to stop Vietnamese supply routes going through the eastern jungles. As the worlds eyes where fixed on the war in Vietnam, the bombing of Laos went on for a decade almost without being noticed by the public. As it ended in 1972, Henry Kissinger - one of the men believed by many to be the decision maker - won the Nobel Peace Prize in Paris. Today de-mining organizations have cleared below 1% of the contaminated area, which is roughly one third of Laos. The country is poor and the cost is high. Though using american bombing maps, every year the monsoon further transport the bombs to new areas, further hindering agriculture and socioeconomic development. According to the national de-mining organization, UXO Laos, it will be another 150 years before the bombs have been cleared: the last victim of the secret war in Laos has not yet been born.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
The bombs in the grass
It was early morning in the rainy season when children inside the Children's Village found a bomb in the wet grass. When the de-mining group arrived they found over 70. A truckload of soil from the outside hadn't been properly checked, so the old bombs had entered un-noticed. Fortunately no one was injured, but it was a reminder of the dangers beyond the walls.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Khantoun Pantarong
"I remember a bright light and a loud noise, before everything went dark," says Khantoun Pantarong. The young man accidentally hit a UXO when working the rice fields close to his home. He lost an eye, parts of his hand and carries scrapnel in the chest, which hurts when it's cloudy. "I don't know why the americans bombed us, but I hope they'll come and take back their bombs."
Story: Unspoken Legacy
The crater
Laos is the most heavily bombed country on Earth per capita, and from 1963-1972, CIA secretly dropped more bombs here than the US dropped during the whole of World War II. A total of 600.000 bombing missions, one every eight minute, every day for nine years, dropped over 2,5 million tons of bombs on the small southeast asian country.
Even though the USA wasn't at war with Laos.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Chaymany
"You get used to all the bombs," Chaymany says. She lives in a small cottage with her husband, Sepan, and their newly born, unnamed daughter. "But when you have a new child, it makes you more nervous."
"We tell them not to play in the forest and in the field and on the mountain. But still I worry what the bombs can do to her."
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Scars
A farmers leg is scarred from UXO's. Even though CIA's secret war ended over 40 years ago, an average of one person per day is maimed or killed by bombs contaminating Laos.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Building with bombs
"When the bombing stopped, the village was gone, so my uncle and the others used bombs to rebuild," Bounlot Ya explains. "Some of them were still active. The fields around the village were so full of them, we couldn't harvest, and so we starved. We started collecting the bombs, making spoons from the metal to sell. People still die, when they gather, but some have to, to earn money for food."
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Tham Piu Cave
According to the laotian government, people from three villages hid from the bombings in the Tham Piu Cave in 1968. After four days of bombing away the jungle, the entrance was made visible, and on the 24th of november, two american jet fired rockets inside. A total of 374 people were killed.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
The Orphanage
A boy rests in the orphanage in Luang Prabang, northern Laos. As parents are lost to UXO's, there are few places for the children to go, and many end up alone in the jungle, or on the city streets. Some girls take their chances and cross the border to Thailand, where most end up in prostitution.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
The bomb
Over 80 million UXO's still contaminate Laos, and under 1% of the country has been cleared. Though de-mining organizations use original bomb maps, the yearly monsoon transport the bombs to new areas, where they hinder farming and socioeconomic development. As the de-mining process is estimated to take 150 years, the last victim of CIA's secret war hasn't been born yet.
Story: Unspoken Legacy
Haimi
Haimi lost both her parents last year, as they were digging for eatable roots on the forest floor and struck a UXO. Her grandparent had no money to take care of her and asked an NGO for help. Today the four year old girl has a new home.
Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
For several years the danes have been named 'the happiest people on Earth' by the UN's 'World Happiness Report'. Most foreigners believe the danes are happy due to several factors, such as the 52 weeks of maternal leave, the health care system, the weird feeling called 'hygge' and the gender equality. Even the frequent use of bikes are thought to make the danes happy. The world truly has many opinions, when looking at danes. But if the danes are truly that happy, what do they then worry about? And what do the danes think, when asked to look at themselves?
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
David
I love my kids unconditionally. But when I look at this picture, I see three boys. In my head, I have my doubts whether I'm the grown-up in this trio, and I'm not always sure if it's me holding them, or them holding me back. - David
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Simon
I have a hard time getting out the door in the morning, if my hair is not right. Even though I know, the wind will mess it up when I reach the street. If I had chosen the picture, I would have picked one, where my hair looked better. - Simon
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Lars & Maja
We actually look like one family. It is not often that we're all gathered. We each have our own life and are busy with all kinds of stuff. We have to go away - on holiday - to keep the 5 teenagers together. It is entertaining and it warms my heart watching them constantly argue - as a demonstration of their hate-love relationship. - Lars It obviously looks like I hate my family on this picture. I don't really like the picture, maybe because all my sisters look better than me - Maja 16 år
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Martin & Stine
When I look at this picture I get scared that this is the way others see us. I don't see the loving, warm and close family that I think we are. Normally I think we help beat down prejudice but here I think it lights up. :( - Stine Nyboe I pray I'm the man I see in the picture, and that i can complete the task i have put upon myself. - Martin Bek
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Jenny
I feel like a piece of furniture. I have learned and promised my sons, that I will take help. It's hard when I'm used to doing things on my own. Without Soeren I wouldn't sit here. I feel safe knowing he's close to me. - J.K.
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Erik
It bothers me like hell that the picture on the wall is not right. It's easy to just take down, and make it right but apparently it's also hard. I've been thinking about correcting it for years, and when I wake up in the morning, I look at it and think, oh no, it's that picture again - Erik Baever
Story: Perspectives of the happiest people on Earth
Hannah
My mother and father are divorces, that is why we sit there alone. - Hannah Ellen Hoffmeyer Wiinholt
The Children's Village
In the children's village in the mountains of Xieng Khouang, Laos, orphans get a new home and a new mother. There are very few orphanages in the poor country, so this is one of the only places the children can go. In the village, they join a new family and receive nine sisters and brothers along with a new mother. The mothers choose the path as a lifestyle. They choose to take care of the children until the latter is 23, chose not to have biological children of their own and choose never to get married. Instead they dedicate their lives to the well-being of the orphans, and to give the children a safe and loving childhood.
Story: The Children's Village
In the fields
Just before sunset Kaipo takes his turn watering the plants behind his house in the Children's Village in Xieng Khoung, northern Laos. The kitchen gardens play a significant role in supporting each family house, as the mothers only receive three dollars per day. For this amount they have to cook morning, noon and dinner for ten children.
Story: The Children's Village
Xieng Khouang
Laos is one of the poorest countries in southeast Asia, and consists of inaccessible mountains and rainforest. The country have six children's villages, each taking care of one hundred children.
Story: The Children's Village
The Children's Village
The children villages consist of roughly ten small houses, a kindergarden, the principals house and an administration building. In front of the houses, beautiful rows of flowers grow, and behind them lies kitchen gardens. Every day at five the hundred children return from school, and start tending the gardens, washing clothes and getting ready for supper.
Story: The Children's Village
Looking out
Many of the children are orphans whose parents have either died or left them. There are less than a handful official orphanages in Laos, so the Children's Villages play an important role in protecting the children.
Story: The Children's Village
Early morning
Although Lulani looks tired, she’s up and ready before sunrise. Every day she goes to school with the rest of her new family, and every evening she does her homework along with other duties in the village. The childrens village takes care of the children until they’re 23 years old.
Story: The Children's Village
The boy and the cat
Mele is four years old and suffers from malnutrition. He wears a jacket that fits a two-year-old. Even though he doesn’t live in a children's village, he receives help and food from one. Over 75 percent of the population i Laos live under the poverty threshold.
Story: The Children's Village
Lunani
Lulani holds her breath as her face is washed. The little girl lost her biological mother as she was born, and was soon after left by her father. Since 2012 she has lived in the children’s village. The first three months she was very sad, and cried every day, but not anymore. She says, she’s happy for her pretty house and happy for her new mother.
Story: The Children's Village
Friday night ritual
Sipha works as an SOS-mother, and every friday night she gathers her family in her bedroom to watch cartoons. Their favorite is Tom & Jerry. Like the rest of the mothers in the children village, Sipha has chosen not to have biological children of her own, and not to get married. Instead she will make it her life work to give the orphans a childhood of warmth and hope of the future. She has been an SOS-mother for 14 years, and carries a golden ring on her left hand. A symbol of ten years duty.