Antonio di Vico, intern at UNDP Communication Office in Tsibili, Georgia
Delhi, India. Having the chance to spend a long time in India, a country where the World Bank estimates that 456 million Indians (42% of the total population) live under the global poverty line of $1.25 per day, I came to realize that for a well-fed, well-educated, moderately wealthy westerner, poverty is something impossible to comprehend. A fellow traveller once told me “you can’t understand India (and poverty) with a full stomach”. But this is something you know only after a while. In my first weeks in India I saw this little girl forced by the mother under the threat of a stick to walk on a rope hanging 2.5m from the ground. Back then I was naïve enough to say, with the help of a translator, to her mother “Your daughter should be in a classroom, not working”. Her mother just answered “What do you know?” The words still resound in my head, yes, what did I know? What do we know?
Hampi, India. Marriage in many traditional cultures is an important event and in India is no exception. I was in Hampi's temples complex when I came across a colorful, yet very modest, wedding party. Indian friendliness and hospitality did the rest. I instantly became the honoured guest and was served rice with dahl and chapati like I was some maharaja. When I asked to photograph the couple to capture a memory of the day, the bride blushed and politely said “no” because her dress was not the rich, precious saree every Indian girl dreams of for her wedding. But she let me take this photo of her hands, decorated for the occasion. To me, this photo is a reminder of humbleness and dignity.
Delhi, India. This photo is a painful reminder to me, a reminder of how despite adversities spirit and dignity can be kept intact. This boy, bare foot and without gloves, was collecting plastic and other materials from an open-air dump to get 1-2$ a day. I am still amazed by his capacity to smile warm-heartedly in the middle of all that garbage.
Kolkata, India. Let’s just say this is a family portrait: the father, a taxi driver, waiting for customers and the son, who is taking a break from his games on his dad’s shiny car. When I asked the man to take the photo he was proud to show probably his most precious jewels: his son and his car!
Kolkata, India. India is unpredictable, unexpected. Every time you think you figured it out, it surprises you by showing unknown aspects you never imagined. I bumped into a street feast in Kolkata with colorful dancing girls surrounded by a cheering crowd. When I got closer I realized that the dancers were…men! They were hijras: men dressed like women who consider themselves neither women nor men and who have been recently recognized by Indian state of Tamil Nadu as a separate sex.
Bangalore, India. Bangalore is the Indian city where the IT sector exploded giving life to an authentic "Indian miracle". With its global outsourcing and software companies, Silicon Valley of India, the "new" Bangalore, is growing at vertiginous speed. The other, "old", forgotten Bangalore, the one newspapers talk less and less about, maintains its slow pace, making the gap between "old" and "new" bigger everyday. I took this photo in a slum situated right next to a huge modern company building. The children there were school drop-outs. The NGO, for which I was a volunteer, was trying to enroll them in school again. These children looked at the building with the eyes of someone who already knows, at 5 or 6, that they are not part of the "new" India and are powerless to do much to change the fact.
Amritsar, India. Miss Sonia is an hijras, neither woman nor man. She says she works as a dancer. I managed to take her photo in the 4x4m house she shares with mother, father and five brothers and sisters. The mother agreed to be photographed with Sonia. During the time I spent in their house, despite all the noise, the little sister, the girl you see next to Sonia, kept sleeping.
Delhi, India. Lakshmi (fantasy name) is from a rural area of Nepal. She is 21. Lakshmi is a sex worker in a brothel in the red light district of Delhi. The dark room with no windows and the rough wooden bench you see is her workplace. For 150 rupees, about 3 USD, to split between her and the brothel owner, she provides sexual services. She told me she wasn't forced by anyone to do it, just by poverty. Despite everything, she looked happy, because, as she said, at least she had some money to send home. She risked being beaten up by allowing me to take this photo but, as she said, it might help someone else. When I was leaving, perhaps seeing in me the possibility of rescue, she asked me to marry her.
All photos are the copyright of Antonio di Vico. For more information please visit www.antoniodivico.com/
Delhi, India. Having the chance to spend a long time in India, a country where the World Bank estimates that 456 million Indians (42% of the total population) live under the global poverty line of $1.25 per day, I came to realize that for a well-fed, well-educated, moderately wealthy westerner, poverty is something impossible to comprehend. A fellow traveller once told me “you can’t understand India (and poverty) with a full stomach”. But this is something you know only after a while. In my first weeks in India I saw this little girl forced by the mother under the threat of a stick to walk on a rope hanging 2.5m from the ground. Back then I was naïve enough to say, with the help of a translator, to her mother “Your daughter should be in a classroom, not working”. Her mother just answered “What do you know?” The words still resound in my head, yes, what did I know? What do we know?
Hampi, India. Marriage in many traditional cultures is an important event and in India is no exception. I was in Hampi's temples complex when I came across a colorful, yet very modest, wedding party. Indian friendliness and hospitality did the rest. I instantly became the honoured guest and was served rice with dahl and chapati like I was some maharaja. When I asked to photograph the couple to capture a memory of the day, the bride blushed and politely said “no” because her dress was not the rich, precious saree every Indian girl dreams of for her wedding. But she let me take this photo of her hands, decorated for the occasion. To me, this photo is a reminder of humbleness and dignity.
Delhi, India. This photo is a painful reminder to me, a reminder of how despite adversities spirit and dignity can be kept intact. This boy, bare foot and without gloves, was collecting plastic and other materials from an open-air dump to get 1-2$ a day. I am still amazed by his capacity to smile warm-heartedly in the middle of all that garbage.
Kolkata, India. Let’s just say this is a family portrait: the father, a taxi driver, waiting for customers and the son, who is taking a break from his games on his dad’s shiny car. When I asked the man to take the photo he was proud to show probably his most precious jewels: his son and his car!
Kolkata, India. India is unpredictable, unexpected. Every time you think you figured it out, it surprises you by showing unknown aspects you never imagined. I bumped into a street feast in Kolkata with colorful dancing girls surrounded by a cheering crowd. When I got closer I realized that the dancers were…men! They were hijras: men dressed like women who consider themselves neither women nor men and who have been recently recognized by Indian state of Tamil Nadu as a separate sex.
Bangalore, India. Bangalore is the Indian city where the IT sector exploded giving life to an authentic "Indian miracle". With its global outsourcing and software companies, Silicon Valley of India, the "new" Bangalore, is growing at vertiginous speed. The other, "old", forgotten Bangalore, the one newspapers talk less and less about, maintains its slow pace, making the gap between "old" and "new" bigger everyday. I took this photo in a slum situated right next to a huge modern company building. The children there were school drop-outs. The NGO, for which I was a volunteer, was trying to enroll them in school again. These children looked at the building with the eyes of someone who already knows, at 5 or 6, that they are not part of the "new" India and are powerless to do much to change the fact.
Amritsar, India. Miss Sonia is an hijras, neither woman nor man. She says she works as a dancer. I managed to take her photo in the 4x4m house she shares with mother, father and five brothers and sisters. The mother agreed to be photographed with Sonia. During the time I spent in their house, despite all the noise, the little sister, the girl you see next to Sonia, kept sleeping.
Delhi, India. Lakshmi (fantasy name) is from a rural area of Nepal. She is 21. Lakshmi is a sex worker in a brothel in the red light district of Delhi. The dark room with no windows and the rough wooden bench you see is her workplace. For 150 rupees, about 3 USD, to split between her and the brothel owner, she provides sexual services. She told me she wasn't forced by anyone to do it, just by poverty. Despite everything, she looked happy, because, as she said, at least she had some money to send home. She risked being beaten up by allowing me to take this photo but, as she said, it might help someone else. When I was leaving, perhaps seeing in me the possibility of rescue, she asked me to marry her.
All photos are the copyright of Antonio di Vico. For more information please visit www.antoniodivico.com/
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