Jun 18

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

I met with three Rwandan genocide survivors in the Butare area about two hours outside Kigali, Rwanda’s main city.

All three knew Désiré Munyaneza, the Genocidaire from Butare who was convicted of war crimes in Montreal for his role in the genocide.  He had fled to Canada to try for refugee status, but got caught instead.

It was hard to find people who were willing to talk, but thanks to a kind young gentleman with many connections I managed to interview the three.  People are afraid.  Just two months ago two survivors, Francois Gasirabo and Jeannette Nyirabaganwa, were killed and their bodies dumped in a river after they testified at a trial.  Genocide survivors are still being killed here if they testify or are expect to testify, and one of the women I interviewed calls “a silent genocide” that’s continuing.  She along with another woman I interviewed, fears for her life.

Words can’t express fully how horrifying the stories are, so I’ll shut up now and share these stories with you.  They might be reading this blog through translation.  All three speak French and Kinyarwandan, but very little English.  If you choose to, please leave a message for them here so they know that people outside Rwanda do care.  To say that they are having a rough time with what they have experienced is a major understatement.

A LADY CALLED “X”

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“X” covers her face to avoid recognition.  THE GAZETTE/Phil Carpenter.

She calls herself “X” for the interview because she doesn’t want to get killed for doing it, or for anything that she might say.

She knew Désiré Munyaneza before the genocide as a young man who worked for his rich father, a well-known businessman in Butare.  He seemed like a nice man who had a reputation as a playboy, she says, and would routinely try to pick up women.

Before the genocide Butare was beautiful.  It was a centre of culture, and as a teacher one of her favorite places to visit was the local library.  Families intermarried and there were no problems to speak of.  That is why Butare was the last place to start the killings, and why it was so hard to believe.

The day after the president’s plane was shot down, she said there were soldiers all over the streets. They had heard about killings in the rest of the country, but Butare was isolated from what was going on.  Around April 20th the roadblocks started going up, and she saw Désiré and other Hutus manning them.  Eventually, she says, it became clear who was to be targeted for killing.

For a while she was allowed to pass roadblocks without being checked because she said everyone knew her as a Hutu.  But then one day someone claimed that she was in fact Tutsi, and she was thrown in the basement of Désiré’s father store, with 17 other women.  That’s where he kept the women he captured from the local university before they were killed. Three days later she was released, but not before he hit her in the back with a stick he always carried. She never saw the 17 women again.

She was 7 months pregnant at the time, and tried hiding in various places, because they wanted to kill her unborn child.  Finally some nuns hid her in a place downtown where she managed to see some of the horror.  One thing that stays in her head is the way they would light people’s hair on fire before killing them.  The men they would kill right away; the women were first raped, and then killed.

Why Désiré did the things he did, she doesn’t know, but thinks that her had a genuine hate for Tutsi women.  He had always called them arrogant.  So deep was his hate, she believed, that he couldn’t even bring himself to rape them with his body; he’d use his stick.

She doesn’t care if he’s found guilty or not, as long as he comes to understand the evil that he did.

Martin Uwariraye

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Martin Uwariraye at the Butare bakery where he hid to survived the genocide.  (THE GAZETTE/Phil Carpenter)

Martin is a businessman in Butare who says Désiré Munyaneza used to eat at his restaurant before the genocide.  Like “X” he remembers Butare as a thriving place when Hutus and Tutsis mingled and intermarried before the genocide.

He says that things actually started getting bad in 1990 when he was jailed for 6 months on suspicion of being a spy for the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), the then “rebel” group headed by the current president Paul Kagame. For the genocide, he too remembers that the killings started around April 20th, the last place in the country.  Before that when the troubles began, Hutus and Tutsis patrolled the streets together to make sure that things were secure.  Everyone knew of the killings in the rest of the country, but it wasn’t immediately clear what was going on.  It wasn’t until the interim president came from Kigali and had a meeting with the city officials that Tutsis were targeted.

To avoid getting killed, he first hid in a forest close to the National University of Rwanda.  Afterwards he hid in a bakery on his property where he stayed until the end of the genocide. His entire family including his wife and 14-year-old son Eric was slaughtered.

Munyaneza, he says, was one of the ringleaders in the Interahamwe, the gangs who did much of the killings.  One day he fired shots at Martins store door, and then destroyed it. 

Unlike many survivors he said he’s not afraid of speaking out. In fact he testified against Munyaneza to Canadian officials in Kigali.  He jokes that he survived the genocide because God spared him, and he saw a lot of killing, so he’s not afraid of death.

He hopes Munyaneza gets life in prison if found guilty.



She Calls Herself “L.O.”

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“L.O. Covers her face to avoid recognition.  THE GAZETTE/Phil Carpenter.

“L.O” testified against Munyaneza at his trial in Montreal, and continues to testify against Genocidaires at local trials.  She too fears for her life, and our interview had to be done at a secluded spot in a car so she wouldn’t be seen talking to the media.

Munyaneza was familiar to her because she used to see him working at his father’s store before the genocide.  Beyond that she knew nothing. She also says that Butare were much intermarriage before the genocide, but says also that there were jailings in 1990 on suspicions of spying for the RPF.

Killings were late to start in Butare she says.  One reason was that the governor was Tutsi, but once he was killed, things began to get ugly around April 20th.

She said she saw many terrible things, and for her the experience was horrific.

Two of her 3 kids got killed with her husband, while she was taken by one of the ringleaders and used as a sex slave fore the duration of the genocide.  It got so bad that the man who enslaved her would crush marijuana and force it inside her to try to get her aroused, she says.

An order was given that she was not to be touched, and that’s how she survived and witnessed so much of the things she can’t forget.  Munyaneza, for example, would use his father’s car to transport captured women from the university and the hospital, and have them raped before killing them.

She doesn’t know what pushed him, and says he was like an animal.  She figures that he learnt from his father who, in the 1959, killed Tutsis and looted their land. In fact, she believes that much of the property he had before the 1994 genocide was stolen from Tutsis back then.  For the 1994 genocide, many of the machetes used in the massacre were bought at his store, she says. The other thing she found strange was that Munyaneza’s mother was Tutsi.

She says when she saw his face in the courtroom in Montreal, she felt like a tree, having being toughened by all she experienced in the genocide.  She hopes he is found guilty.

Published on May 22, 2009 on the Montreal Gazette’s photo blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 17

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

Though we (myself and other teachers and interns) live in Kigali, not far from the Prime Minister’s office as it turns out, there are many areas that are unlit at night. The place is well populated, don’t get me wrong, and some of the houses look like mini castles. The small dirt street though have no street lighting, and can make for a perilous trek even for those who think they know the locations of all the water-carved mini trenches that gut the roads in many places.

But I feel so safe walking here at night anyway. There is nothing that I find threatening at all, but I’m not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the knowledge that there is such tight control here, maybe it’s because the people are so polite, shy, humble and accommodating - I’m not sure yet. But it feels so safe, thought you wouldn’t get that impression at first because so many of the large houses are locked away behind gigantic gates of iron and walls topped with broken bottles and barbed wire. That’s why that practice is now outlawed here.  Any new house built will not have any of that. That’s a good thing.

Tomorrow, it’s off to see the gorillas. A 9-hour hike after rising at 4 am. Promises to be spectacular. Pictures to come.

Two women walk along a dirt road at night in the Kigali suburb of Kimihurura. Photo/Phil Carpenter. 

Two women walk along a dirt road at night in the Kigali suburb of Kimihurura. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

View from a second hand clothing market near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

View from a second hand clothing market near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

View from a bridge near the Kigali Memorial Centre. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

View from a bridge near the Kigali Memorial Centre. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A child shares his lolipop with another on a dirt road in the Kigali suburb of Kimihurura. Photo/Phil Carpenter. 

A child shares his lolipop with another on a dirt road in the Kigali suburb of Kimihurura. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A child runs past a church in a Kicukiro suburb of Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A child runs past a church in a Kicukiro suburb of Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

Published May 15 on the Montreal Gazette’s photo blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 16

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

It was really, really painful to pay US $500 to see gorillas, but after yesterday I’m not complaining. Well not as much.

We left our house at 4:30 am for the 1 1/2-hour drive to Ruhengeri, the base town for gorilla trekking. Now I’ve heard of mist-covered mountains in Rwanda, but nothing prepared me for what I saw. Imagine standing on a rooftop and watching someone very slowly drags a piece of really thin translucent silk across the hills. Well that was my impression looking at the mist hugging almost every hill and valley on the drive up to Ruhengeri, some 20,000+ meters above sea level.

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Dawn over mist-covered hills on the way to Virunga park. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

Just after 7:00am we arrived at the park office in Ruhengeri town, and after registration and a briefing, we headed off with our guide for another hour-long drive to the Virunga park entrance.

The park, home to six volcanoes, straddles the Rwandan border between the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Uganda and is also home to the endangered mountain gorillas.  Poaching has always been a problem, and so there is a joint armed patrol of the area by the three countries.

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An armed escort walks with gorilla trekkers in the hills of Virunga park.  Two travelled with us. According to our guide they acompany trekers in case the group enclunters buffalo, not uncommon in the park.  But others say they also serve as protection in case we encounter poachers.  Photo/Phil Carpenter..

There are different gorilla groups the Susa, but the largest with 40 members and 5 silverbacks, is the one that is most difficult to get to, and the one we opted to see.  It usually takes a 4-hour hike to get to them, but on this day luck was on our side.  According to our guide Francis, because it is the rainy season and the new bamboo growth, they had come down to only an hour away to feed.

Good thing.  The hike was steep, wet, slippery and exhausting, and by the time we saw the first gorilla, with all my equipment (still photography and video gear), my thighs were burning.

A tracker, who had done a reconnaissance that morning met us at a clearing in the thick bush, and escorted us to where the gorillas were.  Before that though, our guide Francis gave a final briefing on how to behave. First: no sudden moves.  Second: if one chrages you, stay low and don’t run!  Third, if stung by nettles, “don’t scream, but suffer in silence” less the gorillas get spooked and charge.

With that in mind we headed off, and soon saw the first family in a clearing.  My first impression was that they were small, until I saw the first silverback.

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A sliverback mountain gorilla, one of five in the Susa group, yawns at the Virunga park during ’social time,” a break between feedings with his family. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

One farted, by way of greeting us I suppose because one kept coming towards us, but Francis always shooed it away.  He and the guide would occasionally grunt loudly, to let the silverback know that we were friendly.

We were warned to get no closer than 7-10 feet away from them in order to protect both groups from transmission of any viruses. For that reason also visitors are allowed to stay no more than an hour at a time.

But an hour is a long time, believe me!  We saw three sets in the same group, and in the last set we met the monster, the largest and oldest of the five silverbacks.

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What a mighty beast. The fellow was clearly in charge with all the others romping around. No idea how much this one weighed, but he was about three times the size of an average-sized man.



At one point he suddenly got up, grunted and flung himself on top of a few others. I thought a fight had broken out when the guide said that he was just playing.  Better them than me.



Soon our hour was up. Luckily it didn’t rain though it seemed like it would the whole time.



I am happy to have gone but I still think that the price was a little steep. Yes most of the funds go towards the conservation program, and a portion (5%) goes to the villages and towns around. Our guide said that they might consider lowering the price given the economic climate, but everyone I spoke to thought the price was well worth it.



You will have to judge for yourself.

Published May 17, 2009 on the Montreal Gazette’s photo blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 12

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

The wounds of the genocide are still raw in this place. I had known that coming here, and that was confirmed when I visited the Gisozi Memorial Site that, according to the Kigali City Official Website, has the bodies of around 250,000 victims of the genocide. The guide there told me that to this day, 15 years after the genocide, groups of villagers still come by daily, to mourn!



But even that did not prepare me for what happened in my class last night.

As part of my class I decided to show various approaches to crafting multimedia stories, and the importance of having a focus and characters. There were a few from various websites that I used, but there was also one that I found that I thought would be useful to them.  The story was titled Intended Consequences, (http://mediastorm.org/0024.htm) and the story focus was the rape victims of the genocide and how the cope today.  I felt it was useful for them to, a: see how a local story could be done with multimedia and, b: see their story can be told from the perspective of an outsider. My feeling was that they’d never seen their story told in this manner, and so forceful, and I wanted them to see the power of the medium they have at their disposal.

I warned them before showing it that it would be tough to watch, but they insisted that I show it because, they said, “it is important for us to see this.”

During the 14-minute presentation you could hear a pin drop, except for the occasional sniffle and the click from someone’s camera.

Then a young woman walked out.

I felt my heart sink.

About a minute after, not sure what to do at this point I went outside to see what was up, and found her sitting on the curb with her head in her hands. I went up to her and when she looked up I asked if she was ok.  She managed a feeble, “oui” and looked down again.  I felt like sh**!!

I returned to the class and asked Jean Pierre, our translator, to ask her in Kinyarwandan what was up.  He went out, saw her and rubbed his head as if to say “oh my God,” then went to talk to her. I went back to the class, stopped the slideshow and asked if they wanted to see the rest of it. They insisted on seeing the entire thing, and when it finally ended, I saw that they were quite moved, and that some were crying.

In the end they were ok. One asked for the Internet address for the piece, and two groups (6 people) pitched story ideas that deal with genocide survivors, as their first assignment to shoot this weekend.

The woman who walked out was ok in the end. She returned to class and participated as usual, but I hope that my decision to show that documentary didn’t wound her too deeply.

Pictures from today:

A quick shot of the class to demonstrate how to get away with a shot when blocked by security.  The two guys in the foreground played the role of security.  My class is usually held in one of the computer labs which has high speed internet access. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A quick shot of the class to demonstrate how to get away with a shot when blocked by security. The two guys in the foreground played the role of security. My class is usually held in one of the computer labs which has high speed internet access. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

One student fooling around with my camera took this picture of class members packing up to leave.  They may look quite formal for class, but these are working journalists who come to class straight from work.

One student fooling around with my camera took this picture of class members packing up to leave. They may look quite formal for class, but these are working journalists who come to class straight from work.

Published May 14, 2009 on the Montreal Gazette’s photo blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 11

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

There are times here when I do get mistaken for a local, but I’m not sure how I should feel when a Rwandan child hollers “Muzungu” when I walk by.  The thing is they wave and smile and follow for many meters obviously playing and trying to be friendly.  And that is pleasant; very pleasant indeed. But knowing that “Muzungu” means, “white person” in Kinyarwandan (the native language), well, it feels a little weird.

Thing is I’m black. Yes some people explain that the word actually means “foreigner” but most people who I speak to, without knowing that the label has been attached to me, have said without hesitation that the word means “white man.” I always travel with others here, but the label gets thrown our way even when none of us is white.

The number of foreigners who are here amazes me, but according to a friend of mine who lives here, there are fewer now than there have been in the past, a fact she blames on the economic times.  As the country rebuilds, in order to encourage foreign investment the Kagame government is trying hard to attract foreign investors and with that comes foreigners. Maybe that’s why it takes only six months living here, with a home address, to qualify for citizenship.

But I’m not sure how the average Rwandan person feels about having foreigners here.  Most Rwandese I’ve spoken to so far say that the population loves having us.  But these are people who work for the foreigners or have learnt from us.  For others I still want to find out.  After all it was the influence and presence of foreigners, despite all the benefit, that many have blamed for the genocide.  It is partly the influence and presence of foreigners through colonialization that has bled Africa, and bleeds it still.

 So as the product of that very colonialization that saw some of my fore parents sold from here and enslaved, yeah, it feels a little weird sometimes to be called a “Muzungu.”

Pictures from today:

A man strains under the weight of a can of milk to push his bicycle up a hill in Kimihuura where we live. Photo/Phil Carpenter. 

A man strains under the weight of a can of milk to push his bicycle up a hill in Kimihuura where we live. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A pothole in one of the streets, one of many formed on the dirt roads from the heavy rains during the rainy season just ending. The paved streets are flwless though and would be the envy of many Montrealers I'm sure. Photo/Phil Carpenter. 

A pothole in one of the streets, one of many formed on the dirt roads from the heavy rains during the rainy season just ending. The paved streets are flwless though and would be the envy of many Montrealers I'm sure. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

A green helmet and vest identify the motorcycle taxi in Kigali, who consider the traffic police a plague.  At almost every intersection and other strategic point around town, the police keep watch for cyclists illegally transporting people. Photo/Phil Carpenter. 

A green helmet and vest identify the motorcycle taxi in Kigali, who consider the traffic police a plague. At almost every intersection and other strategic point around town, the police keep watch for cyclists illegally transporting people. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

An unidentified popcorn and sweet vendor who asked me to take his picture on the way to the genocide memorial in Kigali. He spoke not a word of English or French but was very helpful in giving directions, smiling the whole time. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

An unidentified popcorn and sweet vendor who asked me to take his picture on the way to the genocide memorial in Kigali. He spoke not a word of English or French but was very helpful in giving directions, smiling the whole time. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

Published May 10, 2009 on the Montreal Gazette’s Photo Blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 10

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

One more student arrived today from Canada bringing the total number of Canadian students to five.  Two are journalism students who will be interning at different media outlets here in Kigali.  The other three are public affairs and policy students who will do their internship at the Rwandan parliament.  All the internships are around 3 months.



I begin teaching the Rwandan journalists on Monday night, for five nights a week until the end of May.  There are 30, with only two women, and they are a mix of print and broadcast journalists.  It might seem strange to be training radio journalists in multimedia journalism, but in these parts, versatility counts for much, especially when many journalists aren’t permanent employees, and switch jobs and fairly often.

To have only two women in my class was a surprise. We’re told that there are few women in journalism here and one challenge is to get more of them involved. One challenge in this class, I was told, might be to get the two women to be assertive since they tend to be quite reserved.

Not sure yet what equipment and other resources there are for the course.  I’m about to leave for the media centre to get a sense of what there is.  Based on that I can then plan my lessons. Whatever the case is, they can expect much work in the coming weeks.

Below are a few pictures I grabbed while on a walk around the neighborhood where we stay. Enjoy.

An unidentified boy outside the house in Kimihurura just outside downtown Kigali, where journalists and interns working with the Rwanda Initiative stay. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

An unidentified boy outside the house in Kimihurura just outside downtown Kigali, where journalists and interns working with the Rwanda Initiative stay. Photo/Phil Carpenter.

Erik Tuyisenje covers his face with a mask that he is carving, at Atelier des Arts in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter

Erik Tuyisenje covers his face with a mask that he is carving, at Atelier des Arts in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter

Children play on a street in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali.  Photo/Phil Carpenter

Children play on a street in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter

Two unidentified men haul wooden doors on a wheelbarrow on a street in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter

Two unidentified men haul wooden doors on a wheelbarrow on a street in Kimihurura near downtown Kigali. Photo/Phil Carpenter

Published May 8, 2009 on Montreal Gazette’s Photo Blog ‘The Lens’


Jun 9

 

philcarpenterblog Phil Carpenter

Note: Over the next week RI Teacher Phil Carpenter’s blogs from May will be appearing daily on the site. These postings are republished material from the Montreal Gazette where Carpenter works as a photojournalist.

I just arrived in Rwanda for a month to teach multimedia journalism to 30 professional journalists, and to do a couple stories here on my own time.  It is my second trip to Rwanda.  Five years ago I was here for the 10th anniversary of the 1994 genocide as part of a project to document peace initiatives around the world.

This is the first of a series of blogs that I will do about my trip and I looking forward to your comments, suggestions and criticisms. The images here are from my first trip in 2004.

Zoko village, Kisaro district, Byumba province.  Community meeting to plan terrace cultivation. Photo: Phil Carpenter. (May 2004)

Zoko village, Kisaro district, Byumba province. Community meeting to plan terrace cultivation. Photo: Phil Carpenter. (May 2004)

This time 15 years ago in the Great Lakes region of Africa, a massive strategic slaughter of human beings was taking place. Beginning around April and ending around July in 1994 some 800,000 Tutsis and moderate Hutus in Rwanda were murdered in a plan to exterminate the Tutsi.  The genocide was orchestrated by elements in the government and military, and was largely ignored by the international media.

Since then there has been much hand wringing, finger pointing and mea culpa about the role of the media, both domestic and international, in the event.

In the book The Media and The Rwandan Genocide, one of many such post-genocide attempts at analyzing the media’s role, retired Canadian Lt.-Gen. Romeo Dallaire, who ran the military part of the UN peacekeeping mission in Rwanda at the time, says that the genocide happened in part because the media outside Rwanda “largely ignored or misunderstood what was happening. ”The international media initially affected events by their absence.”  He explains that because the world wasn’t watching, the Genocidaires felt free to carry out their murderous intent.

Journalist Allan Thompson who edited the book goes further.  He points out that the international media, by downplaying the Rwanda story, failed in its “responsibility to report.”  This failure, he argues, prevented the public from knowing what was happening and so they couldn’t pressure politicians into action to prevent or stop the genocide.  Because of this, he calls on journalists to “use the power that this profession affords and take up [our] responsibilities starting with the responsibility to report,” to help prevent things like this from recurring.

Burial of a genocide victim at the genocide memorial, a mass grave in Kigali, Photo: Phil Carpenter. (May 2004).

Burial of a genocide victim at the genocide memorial, a mass grave in Kigali, Photo: Phil Carpenter. (May 2004).

Much of the local media in the Rwanda that Dallaire says was used “like a weapon.”  The charge is that some of the media was perverted to disseminate hate propaganda, and to encourage the Rwandan people to turn on each other.   According to Thompson, the Rwandan hate media at the time “through their journalists, broadcasters and media executives actively participated in the extermination campaign.”

Today in Rwanda, there are efforts to help train journalists.  One called Rwanda Initiative (http://www.rwandainitiative.ca/index2.html), headed by Allan Thompson, has been in place for the last five years and is a partnership between Carlton University in Ottawa, and the National University of Rwanda to train journalism students.

There is also the Great Lakes Media Centre (no website yet) in Kigali, where 2-year workshops are given to working journalists. That is where I will be training 30 second-year television, radio and print journalists in multimedia journalism.

There is to be some guidelines as to what I am expected to teach, but my understanding is that this is a new course, and so I can design my course the way I see fit.  Bearing in mind cultural differences, I’ll do the best I can.

Nyamata - 05/16/04 -- Seventy-four year-old Mukama Tharsice is the Guardian of the genocide memorial at the Nyamata Catholic church, which includes a subterranian portion containing the remains of thousands of genocide victims.  Thousands of people were killed inside the church when they sought refuge there.  Two of Tharcise's 6 children were killed in the church.  The other 4 and his wife were killed in the bush where they tried to escape. Phil Carpenter.

Nyamata - 05/16/04 -- Seventy-four year-old Mukama Tharsice is the Guardian of the genocide memorial at the Nyamata Catholic church, which includes a subterranian portion containing the remains of thousands of genocide victims. Thousands of people were killed inside the church when they sought refuge there. Two of Tharcise's 6 children were killed in the church. The other 4 and his wife were killed in the bush where they tried to escape. Phil Carpenter.

Published May 12, 2009 on Montreal Gazette’s Photo Blog ‘The Lens