Disposable Camera Project: Chile

     It was a season of change and trying new things, so on a whim I thought I'd try doing something a little different from my usual realm: disposable camera photography. Many photographers turn their noses to disposable cameras, and granted, they aren't the highest of quality. Sometimes they are blurry or not in focus, ad some brands are better than others (I learned that fairly quickly). They are also bizarrely more expensive than I would have imagined since everyone considers them to be "cheap." However, something about that old, eclectic look or the appearance of the photo being taken decades earlier even though it was taken just last week is quite intriguing. Plus, if you can take a really, really nice shot on a disposable camera, then you can take good shots on virtually anything, so I decided to challenge myself and give it a try.

    Some a are a little off the horizon line. Some of them are a bit blurry. Some of them have a lot of grain. But these photographs are pure and honest, and that is what I love about them. They were taken in a quick moment with the hope that they turned out well and with the surprise of seeing them later. You don't know how they are going to look. You don't know what colors will show. It's like a little surprise when you get them back and a little moment of reliving. These are pure, honest moments, captured forever and unedited. These are raw and in their most organic form, and I love that about them. This was a fun little project that I will have to revisit sometime in the future. 

Las Personas de ECIM

     People are beautiful and people are incredibly important. Everyone has a story, everyone has motivations and reasons for why they behave a certain way of feel as they do. People are not one-dimensional and they have intricate layers to them.

     My Chilean adventure last year was more about self-discovery and was a lesson in self-growth. This year, I learned a lot more about people and relationships. This year I was able to allow myself to learn to be in and enjoy people's presence far more than I had before. The photographer in me felt the need to capture the beauty I was beginning to see, and so I began slowly compiling photographs of various people around the station. As a photographer, it is my job to tell those people's stories through my lens. When I photograph people, I want to capture their personality and their essence. 

     Unfortunately, I was not able to photograph everyone, but I have plans for my next visit, most likely a series.

    The photos below are in the order in which they were taken, with the exception of the last two. All photos were taken by me except the third and fourth to last photo (taken by Allie Tissot) and the last photo (taken by Claudio Catalán).

The Things I Learned in Chile Part 2

     Last year, I wasn't even sure I would be able to go back to the frigid Chilean waters. When I did come back, I wasn't sure that anything could top my experience last year. I was wrong on both accounts.

     My trip last year changed me, significantly. It made me a better scientist, a better photographer, and a better person. My work ethic and my confidence soared after my last endeavor and showed greatly in my coursework and personal life, and I felt like a truly different person. But this year, I changed even more. Drastically more.

    I learned so much, and I think it is quite frankly part of my duty to relay some of the things that I learned on to you, the reader. Perhaps you can learn a little bit from my experience or what I learned can help you in some way. The human experience is not completed in isolation. These are some of the most important things I learned during my time in Chile this year.

Working in Science Part 2

     Science is a pretty unique field with some pretty unique challenges. There isn't necessarily one right way to do it and each method has its own pros and cons. One of the advantages of science is that there are other people in your field who can help you think about ideas in a different light or can catch possible problems that maybe you did not think about. Fellow scientists are a wealth of ideas and can be incredible and invaluable resources. The best projects are usually done in conjunction with other people because as the old saying goes, "more brains are better than one." I worked with multiple intelligent scientists this time and learned that some of the best ideas can be brought together when multiple people add input.

     I also learned that you need to go with your gut. There were several instances where I had picked up on something due to personal observations and others were hesitant about my observation. It never hurts to try, even if your gut instinct turns out to be wrong, and I learned that in reality my gut instinct was fairly consistent. As a scientist, you have to be confident in yourself first because your confidence level could affect your work. If you think you can't do it because you lack the training or experience, you could affect your data because you are already going in with a mindset that you may fail. If you think that you won't be able to do it correctly, you won't. If you think, "I'll probably mess this up," you WILL mess it up. Don't think that you can't do it. Have confidence in yourself. Do everything to the best of your ability and remember that you aren't just doing research to benefit you but to benefit other scientists, other people, the animals in the study, and the environment. The purpose of science is to better ourselves and our world, and science should never be about one singular person or it is being done for the wrong reasons. 

     There is also nothing like having the opportunity to get your feet in the water and begin working in your desired field. I have loved marine biology for a long time, but living in an oceanless, completely green world for so long kept me far away from working with the thing I was trying so desperately to study. What if I didn't actually like it? What if I wasn't cut out for it? My adventure last year showed me that despite the hardships and my lack of knowledge, I was where I needed to be. This year showed me that I was for sure in the right field. Working with the ocean all day every day for ten weeks was more than fulfilling for me. I was happier than I had been in a long time, and quite frankly the happiest I had ever been. I lavished working in the lab and working with the marine animals and my dear fish. I could survive weird hours or staying up late or getting up very early because I was so intensely in love with what I was doing. Sometimes it didn't even feel like work, I was just doing it because I loved it so much. There were of course days when I was so exhausted I could barely drag myself around to do what needed to get done or times when I was intensely frustrated with how things were going (more frustrated than I had ever been in my life), but working with the ocean that I adored made up for all of that. It was especially hard for me to leave and has been hard because I was finally doing the very work I had been moving towards for the past seven-ish years. It was like I had finally made it and then had to be abruptly ripped away from it. That is when you know that you are in the right field. You have to get out there and experience it for yourself and make SURE that you are where you think you want to be. I have seen people get out into their field and realize it wasn't for them and by then it was too late. Get out there, get your hands dirty in your field, get experience. There are opportunities and ways to get yourself out there. I had to travel thousands of miles because that was where the opportunity was for me. Opportunity and experiences are out there, you just have to seek them out.

People Care

     People do care. They may not always show it, but my goodness they do care, sometimes even a great deal. I tend to care too much and worry about how others are feeling in that moment or how they think of me. I cared quite a bit about everything, from my fish's health to other people's emotions and feelings. Sometimes I wondered if I was the only one who cared about these things or if people even cared about me. It's not a great thing to dwell on, but it's human nature to wonder if someone cares about you, too. In the beginning, I wasn't sure. I knew that I personally cared about what was important, and for a few weeks, it was enough for me. Eventually, however, all the strain of caring too much on my own began to wear me pretty thin. Did anyone else care about the things that I was caring so deeply about? Did anyone care about me? One day before I left I had a particular instant that made me question a lot and after lugging an insane amount of heavy sand down six flights of stairs by myself (a proud moment for me, actually), I sat at the bottom of the stairs for the moment and thought pretty deeply about everything. I felt like I meant more to these people, I had done so much for the labs with animal care and other aspects and had helped people and such, but it appeared as though few people really cared that much about me. It's natural to feel this way sometimes, deep down all anyone really wants is to be cared for or to have at least one person who cares about you as a person. But, I analyzed everything and realized that I couldn't focus on others. I had accomplished so much on my own, and I cared about things that I thought were important, so if anything, I could at least count on me. Plus, there were a few select people who had showed amply that they did care, and I had to tell myself that they were the ones who truly mattered. I headed up those stairs with a little less weight (in two senses). But still, I wondered.

    In the last few days before my departure, people showed me pretty amply that they cared without me instigating anything. I was surprised almost to the brink of tears when nearly everyone at the station jumped out to surprise me before I left, shared one last sunset with me, and gave me a beautiful card with heartfelt notes. People wrote me more notes, gave me gifts, and told me in person, both directly and subtly, how much they cared.

People do care, I promise.

People Pay Attention

     I notice everything. I pick up on the subtleties that most people miss and I usually have people figured out pretty quickly. Whether it be a change in tone, a subtle gesture, or a distant dolphin fin in tumultuous water, I tend to catch it. My radar and intensity with which I focus tends to be significantly different than other people, however, so I often assume that they don't pick up on certain things after years of experience. However, my assumption was proven wrong on multiple occasions. People noticed significantly more than I thought, knowing several of the things I thought I was doing in secret or the amount of work and effort I was putting into things. They mentioned noticing certain subtleties in other people, too, that I thought had been missed. They had noted profound things about other people or mentioned rather deep, observant behaviors they saw in others. People used words I or others had specifically used in certain circumstances, or they brought up things I had sworn had been long forgotten. Perhaps they don't pay as much attention as I do, but they certainly pay attention. People see things, people notice changes. People notice more than you may think.

Self-Care

     I tend to be pretty bad when it comes to self-care. Sometimes my self-care routine is virtually non-existent. However, my time this year forced me to do at least a little bit of self-care out of necessity. I am extremely introverted, I am just very good at being friendly with people or hiding the fact that I may not want to see a single solitary person in that moment. I need ample alone time or I physically cannot function. About two weeks before my departure, I was about done with people. I have what I like to think of as "levels" for my people interaction abilities at a certain time. I have different levels of people tolerance that I can handle. There are some people that I consider people I can be around always and I always enjoy their presence, and then the levels go down, with some people being in the "most of the time," "some of the time," or "rarely" category. The majority of people fall under the "most of the time" category, and I can tell how far I've gone by how my tolerance is at the moment. At this specific time, I was absolutely exhausted and had not had a moment alone for a very long time, and my energy level for being around people was wearing very thin. What didn't help was that a class of 20-something new people had been brought to the station, and so now people were EVERYWHERE and I didn't even have a break on the weekends. I couldn't even go to my "secret" hideout spots without being discovered. For crying out loud, I had been discovered trying to have personal "me-time" at around 12:00 AM (when I assumed no one would find me) not once but twice. By this point I didn't even want to see the people on my "Always" list and I could feel my irritability rising and my stress level skyrocketing. I couldn't do it much longer or I would have a breakdown. At this point, I decided to do something about it: I began waking up fairly early in an effort to have at least a small period of time to myself to get some stuff done but also just to be in a room alone. I have never been a fan of waking up early, but I was so desperate at this point that I knew I had to make time somehow. I continued this trend until I left, and it drastically improved my tolerance levels and people stress. I was losing sleep, but at least I had moments alone. Unfortunately, my secret was discovered and I got a lot of questions regarding my strange custom, but I embraced the awkwardness because to me, that time was worth losing sleep and being constantly questioned.

     I also set aside time on Friday nights to bake. Regardless of what was going on, I forced myself to have baking time to myself. "It's a bit late, isn't it?" the guard asked me one night. It was, but I didn't care. It was my special alone time, and I needed it.

     Self-care is important. Humans were not designed to go on and on forever. It is so important to take a few moments at least to do something nice for yourself or help yourself. It is just as important as your physical health because mental health is so intimately connected to physical health and they both affect one another. You cannot expect to be fully healthy if you are physically fit but lacking in your mental health.

Learning a New Language

     Granted, I already wrote an entire blog post on this, but there is so much more that I learned since that post that I had to share at least a little more with you. Learning a new language is a process. Some days are incredible and you can't believe how much BETTER you are, and some days are just horrible and you can barely understand two words of it. Some days you're just too exhausted to pick anything up. One night I was absolutely exhausted to the bone and had been speaking in Spanish all day, and by now my brain couldn't even function in English. I had to ask a friend to repeat a phrase a good three times before I realized it was useless. "Tired?" he laughed kindly. Everyone has good and bad days.

     The best thing you can do is try. If you sit on the sidelines and don't try, you will never get anywhere. You have to throw yourself into scary situations and make yourself speak the language. You have to go to events where almost no one will be speaking in English and immerse yourself in conversations, even if you can't add too much to it. You have to give presentations and speak up with a question or two during other's presentations. You have to join conversations, and you have to be present.

     You need to find safe people to practice with, too. Some people won't be patient or kind, but some people will be accommodating and helpful. Some people will kindly correct you when you're wrong or they will help you finish off the word or phrase when you can't remember it. "ESTAN" a friend warmly corrected me as he brushed past with a phone in one hand and a sea star in the other. Like everything else in life, you need a support system, so find people you trust who can help you when you need it.

     I also cannot stress enough how important it is to learn the local slang. Chilean Spanish has a ton of words only spoken in Chile, so if you don't know it, you are out of luck. Once I started learning their unique words, I began to understand SO much more of what people were saying.

People are Important

     I'm really not that much of a people-person. I am absolutely an animal person. I would be so much happier with a lab full of animals than a lab full of people. For the past few years, however, I have been learning that people are important. During my time in Chile this year, I really, truly realized just how important and how beautiful people are.

     Everyone has a story. Everyone has motivations and reasons why they are the way that they are. Everyone has seen things that invigorated them and inspired them, and everyone has seen things that shook them to their core. They have had good moments, and they have had bad moments. Regardless of what they have been through or how they behave, they are so very important. 

     People can do a lot. I've seen people turn their whole lives around or pick themselves up off the ground and accomplish so much more than they ever thought. I've seen people learn whole languages and become more confident people. I've seen them go from scared newcomers to confident, comfortable veterans who can take on the world. It's beautiful.

    People are beautiful, too. Everyone has little intricacies about them or little things that they do that are simply lovely. Maybe they sing a little bit to themselves in the office. Maybe they belt it out in the aquariums and give you the biggest grin on your face as you tend to your animals. Maybe they are really good at cooking, or have a cute little face that they make when they are truly happy. Maybe just their smile and lovely attitude is beautiful. Sometimes they are looking at something or involved in something and the way that they look at it, with so much interest and intent, is beautiful because it means so much to them. Perhaps it's the photographer and filmmaker in me, but I am finding more and more that the little things that people do are important.

    It's important to understand people as individuals. I saw more beauty deep within people than I had been able to see in a long time. I learned to see them differently and for more than what they advertised themselves as. I saw them for them. I realized how important it was to understand people and understand where they were coming from, and to understand how important they are. 

     At the end of the day, it's relationships that matter. Not how many publications you pumped out, not how many people viewed your work, not how much work success you had. At the end of your life, the most fulfilling part is the relationships that you built and how those made you feel. It's that human connection that binds us all together that really means something.

~

     These are just a few of the things I learned in Chile this year, and I truly learned so much, more than I ever thought. I am eternally grateful for that. I will admit, it's been an incredibly difficult week for me. I miss it fervently. I miss the sea, I miss doing what I love, I miss the people I had grown to love. I was doing what I had wanted to do for so long and actually had some resemblance of a little life (which is probably shocking to the people there, but trust me, compared to my "all university work" lifestyle here, I had more of a life and free-time at that little station than I had ever had here), but if felt like all of a sudden all of that disappeared in an instant. I went from winter and shorter days to intense heat and days with seven more hours of daylight in the span of one singular day. I traded the ocean for cornfields. I have to think about life now, grad school, and a ton of applications and deadlines. The first few days I kept waking up thinking, "Ok, time to go check on the fish and then go to the office," and then having to realize that was impossible. It's been hard, and it will be hard, but I think that maybe that's a good sign. If it hurt, it meant something. My short time certainly meant something to me. 

     But don't worry, this isn't the end. I am going back. Voy a volver. I'm not quite sure how yet, but I will make it back somehow. I will be back to learn so much more. But until then, there is so much to learn here, I just have to be open to it. It will take time as always, but good things come in time.

Into the Sea, Dentro del Sol

     As I have said many times over the past few weeks, the world is a beautiful place and I think I would not be doing my job if I did not share some of that beauty with others. When I knew for certain that I was returning to Chile, I already knew that I would be creating another short film. This time, however, I wanted it to be different. I wanted it to be better.

     Over the past year I have learned some new tricks for both filming and editing and have been researching extensively how to create better material. I am learning how to edit more effectively and how to color grade and such, and I can see the quality of my films increasing. More importantly, though, I wanted to work more on my composition. Last year, my film focused exclusively on a very, very small area that included only the marine station and the surrounding beaches. That was the extent of my footage. Upon my return, I knew I had to try to film other places because there was so much splendor elsewhere that deserved to be shown, and it would do central Chile no justice if I did not include more than just one small place. 

     This film features so much more than my first film last year. It includes of course the marine station, its little aquarium, and the surrounding beaches, but it also includes some of the gorgeous sites where the station conducts research. Perhaps the most exciting aspect to me was that I was also able to include what was under the waves this time, which I felt was critical to include. I hit a milestone this year by finally entering the Chilean waters and seeing it with my own eyes, and I think that it is imperative that others understand what it looks like, too, and just how diverse and alive it is.

     The title is based off one of my blog post titles, but in reality it was a phrase I had been tossing around for several months. Something about it sounded lovely to me. It is in both English and Spanish to represent the convergence of two languages and the connection between two different cultures joining together for the same purpose. 

     This film is the central coast of Chile from my perspective, and these are the things I found to be beautiful and invigorating. This is how I saw the world during those 10 weeks, and this is how I felt. This film is my heart and soul and I hope that somehow it affects you, too.

Into the Sea, Into the Sun

The world is truly beautiful and I cannot comprehend it. I cannot even begin to express the things I've seen.

     One of the perks of being a marine biologist is that you get to travel. We travel frequently at the station to different sites to collect samples and data, and the places I've seen are some of the most gorgeous and inspiring vistas I've ever beheld. I've been dumbfounded, excited, scared, and revitalized in ways I never knew possible. The majority of my favorite moments in this country have been spent in the field, whether sharing a tender last moment in the sunset before my departure or a shared feeling of awe. Some of my best learning moments as well as some of my best photographs have come from days in the field. I jump on the chance to go into the field, occasionally even pestering my lab buddies about going. Some have joked it's because I "just want to go to take pictures," but it is so much more than that to me. It is a chance to learn more about research in my field, build relationships (that's what long car rides are for!), and have the opportunity to broaden my horizons.

     The world is so much more surprising and beautiful than I think we realize. These things are real, and there are places out there that take your breath away or make you feel something you didn't know you could feel. I have seen the sun rise over ancient rocky ledges and the snow-capped Andes in the largest vista I've ever seen. I am in awe each time. I am so incredibly humbled and feel so grateful to have such an opportunity. 

     The primary purpose of field work is to collect data. Every lab at the station is focused on something different, whether it be community surveys (looking at what lives in that place), abundance, or competition. All of the data that we take is important in its own way and works together to create a more in-depth picture about the way in which life functions in this underwater alien world. Like all sciences, there are protocols and methodology that can only be learned through instruction and practice. I try to go on every conceivable trip into the field in an effort to gain experience. Why not? It's critical to know how to do these fundamental aspects of biology, and plus going into the field can be difficult, especially here in Chile. The waves are often very unforgiving and the rocks can be slick or difficult to maneuver over, so even just getting to the data can be more difficult than actually collecting it. I'm still a little slow and clumsy at times, but the more I have practiced, the more confident I feel. 

     I find that science and relationships intertwine in the field. There are many places in which trust is necessary. Having to rely on each other and working towards a common goal in a sometimes merciless environment really does something to strengthen your bond and develop mutual understanding. I learned that firsthand last year and have continued to learn it this year. You learn a lot about people in moments of tension, and you learn a lot about yourself as well. I've been stretched and I've been the most vulnerable I've ever been, more vulnerable than I wanted to be. But, I've also been stronger and more powerful than I've ever been. I've seen it change other people, too, turning them into unshakable forces with determination and courage to complete what we set out to accomplish. 

     I feel like I know the people I've gone into the field with far better. Working with them in the slick rocks with the waves shows you people in a more raw, vulnerable light. But, you also have a long time to talk to them in the car. Some of my best, deepest conversations have occurred during the driving portion of the trips. Some of my most tender conversations have happened in the field itself. The sea seems to have a way of connecting people.

     It isn't often that I actually get to photograph in the field because I am working, but I try to get as many shots as possible when I go. Below are just a few that I have taken this year.

LOS MOLLES

PICHILEMU

LOS ANDES

MATANZAS

     You cannot see these places and not be changed. I cannot comprehend how you can see such beauty and not be moved. Sometimes people see these places so often that they become numb to it and it doesn't affect them anymore. The feeling has long been forgotten, the sense of wonder lost. But, I don't think it's ever completely forgotten, however. Walking back from Pichilemu in the forceful wind and brilliant sunshine, I looked back to make sure that my lab partner was behind me. He stopped every so often, looking out to the sea and trying to catch the last few glimpses before it was blocked from view. "Are you ok?" I asked through the wind, making sure we hadn't left anything or missed something. "I'm ok," he replied back as he continued to admire the expanse of sea and rock. "Just looking." He paused a few more seconds before smiling up at me as we continued to traverse our way up the hill. Seeing something lovely through someone else's eyes is its own form of beauty. Another dear friend was viewing the same place for the first time, soaking in everything after having waited for so long to see it. I could feel her joy as it exuded from her, and I felt like I was seeing the place anew myself because of her.

     The world is beautiful. The sea is beautiful. But, people are beautiful, too, and sometimes you need somewhere incredible to remind you of that.