Filming fair trade vanilla farmers in Uganda
I was unsure what to write about in my first ever blog, until an unexpected call from an ex-colleague, Dr. Stuart Gregory, brought an assignment that ultimately inspired this article.
Over the course of my career I have had the good fortune to shoot broadcast TV, commercials and corporate video on 5 continents and now the opportunity to shoot on a sixth, Africa, presented itself. It was a journey, which opened my eyes to the lives of farmers in the Equatorial rain forest, whose dignity in the face of disease and poverty was very moving.
The idea of filming abroad sounds glamorous, but this notion hides the many complex problems of working on foreign soil. In addition to the issues of visas, work permits, customs clearances, vaccinations, excess baggage etc., you have the fact that you are working in a place where the locations, climate, infrastructure, language and local customs are completely alien. Therefore the potential for disaster is substantial, as anyone who has seen “Lost in La Mancha” will appreciate.
My assignment was to film fair trade vanilla farming in Uganda for a Swiss multinational company, so nothing like the scale of a Terry Gilliam epic, but enough to think about for a 2 man crew, myself and Simon August, for a few days.
Dene Films production manager, Nicky Scott drew on my past experience of working abroad to make the relevant calls and to set things up. Business visas were relatively easy for Uganda and a reasonably easy flight to Entebbe was possible in one day via Amsterdam with KLM. Although I was disappointed to discover that the generous baggage allowances of Business class no longer existed, meaning that it was much better value for our budget to fly economy and pay the excess – so no comfy chair treatment for us.
The first worry appeared when we discovered that Uganda is not party to the international agreement, which allows relatively easy temporary export and import of professional equipment between countries, thus avoiding import duties and so forth. I have heard horror stories from colleagues of equipment standing for days on the tarmac in the heat, and of agents and shady dealings involving “fixers” with a certain amount of hard currency. So I armed myself with a fistful of dollars and hoped for the best.
At an ungodly 4.00 a.m. on a Sunday morning, Simon and I checked in at Newcastle for what turned out to be a straightforward trip to Entebbe, scene of an infamous and very daring rescue mission by the Israeli armed forces in the 70’s. After passing officials wearing face masks to guard against foreign diseases, we stood at the baggage carousel as all of our kit arrived in good shape and we headed for customs. To our complete surprise, there was no-one waiting to check lens serial numbers or collect payment of a customs bond, so we walked through unchallenged.
Waiting outside was Robert our driver, with his trusty 4WD Toyota minibus, which proved excellent in negotiating the difficult jungle tracks to reach the farms we needed to film. Robert proudly informed us that he was one of only two drivers selected to drive the Queen during her trip to Kampala in 2007, so we knew we were in good hands. Having a local driver always helps, but in this instance Robert was invaluable at negotiating the jams, motorbikes and general chaos, which can invade Uganda’s highways at any time. He was also prepared to take his Toyota van to places, which seemed impenetrable to us, and saved us a lot of physically carrying kit through the jungle in the heat.
Our first destination was The Sheraton in central Kampala, which was very plush, but seemed almost like another planet compared with the living conditions of many of the locals we were to meet later. The production schedule was very well planned out, but what we couldn’t anticipate was the emotional impact on us of what we were about to film.
The first day started off quite straightforward interviewing with a lady who operates a fair trade shop in Kampala, that sells on hand crafted goods, while returning two thirds of the money to the makers. But afterwards Robert drove us to a hillside out of town where we were to meet the people who made necklaces and other things for the shop.
As we arrived we passed a number of women breaking rocks in a gully, but failed to understand the significance of this until I interviewed the necklace makers later. Robert stopped the van by a school, and immediately we were mobbed by hundreds of smiling children all of whom wanted either to meet us or be photographed. They were particularly interested in Simon, who as a 6 foot plus blonde giant, was a real novelty.
One of the necklace makers had lived on this site for 19 years, having fled from armed conflict elsewhere. She lived with her four children, in what can best be described as a small hand made brick shed, and was making bead necklaces to earn small amounts of money, which she used to pay her rent, educate her children and buy anti-malarial medicines to save their lives. I found this very humbling when compared with my luxurious Western life style.
But I also discovered that previously she had endured years of breaking rocks like the women in the gully, to try and earn a pittance. At that moment the real value of fair trade became apparent to me. What astonished me about this woman was the dignity with which she accepted her circumstances. She possessed little, but was immaculately turned out and spoke passionately about how making bead necklaces had saved her children’s lives.
The following day Robert cheerfully took us deeper into the jungle, despite the Toyota bottoming out on the ruts of the forest tracks a few times. On arrival I was introduced to some vanilla farmers, a man and wife and their children. We filmed this elegant woman dressed in burgundy robes tending and harvesting the crop and collecting bananas from their plantation, which she prepared and cooked in a makeshift kitchen next to the forest. Once more I was amazed by how much of what I would consider essential to life at home, appeared to be irrelevant in this setting.
The farmers may have few possessions, but they have a real focus to their lives and surprisingly are true entrepreneurs. Being 30km from the nearest bank and not in possession of transport, the local women had formed credit unions and using the earnings from their fair trade vanilla and other crops, were saving and investing in new ways to increase their incomes.
Later as they danced and sang for the camera, I reflected that although this appeared beautiful and idyllic to me as a visitor, these women were working hard to secure the present, never mind the future. Later, I watched as many of them gowned in beautifully coloured fabrics, disappeared into the jungle to begin 10 mile treks to their homes.
Our final day took us near the shores of lake Victoria, where the great beauty of the landscape was at odds with the human tragedy that unfolded before us. As we rolled the camera in the school, where the local farmers had gathered, two orphaned teenage girls sang emotional songs in English welcoming us to their village and mourning for their dead relatives. It was impossible not to shed a tear at this poignant moment, particularly as we had just been made aware that 40% of the assembled crowd were HIV positive.
Again fair trade was helping by providing much needed income, as well as assistance with education programmes on farming techniques and health issues covering the containment of malaria and HIV/AIDS.
After filming the vanilla processing plant in the afternoon, we packed our cases to catch our return flights, overwhelmed by the dignity and beauty of the people we had met and filmed over the three day shoot.
On our return to Entebbe we were stopped by a man in a kiosk who nervously demanded to know, in a high pitched voice, if we were armed. How he would have coped with a “yes” we will never know, since he appeared not to be armed himself!
Baggage handling and security staff in the terminal removed some of our faith in the people of Uganda by demanding money and charging us for things that were not an issue at Newcastle. When the woman operating one security scanner threatened to blow up one of our boxes (of batteries I think) if I didn’t pay her, I was almost tempted to let her go through with it on condition that we could watch the explosion!
Eventually Simon and I arrived back in Newcastle, tired but hugely impressed by the people of Uganda, their humour and resourcefulness. Now comes the task of editing a film worthy of these generous and kind people, which we hope will encourage companies and consumers to engage more with fair trade projects. Next time you stop for an ice cream, remember the far away people that helped provide it.
Sincerely,
Steve Salam
Managing Director, Dene Films.
