Story and Photographs by ROBERT LARSON
I recently spent about six months traveling throughout Africa, Europe, and Asia, an adventure I found both surreal and exciting. The seed had been planted two years ago during my last trip to China, when I was 20. I had several weeks there with my Sensei and a group of fellow students from the United Studios of Self Defense dojo, here in Pacific Palisades. That trip had been my first real taste of life outside the First World bubble in which I was raised. I was gaining great interest in photography at the time and felt a strong pull to get out of Dodge; to see the world around me. At that point I vowed to continue traveling outside of my comfort zone, and Africa immediately, almost instinctively, became my focus. After raising the necessary funds, I hopped on a plane to Monrovia, Liberia. Once in country, I linked up with an N.G.O. (non-governmental organization) to work, and live, on a hospital ship. My first two months were spent scrubbing dishes and serving “good” food in the galley; I was then transferred to the communications department as a photographer. Africa was not merely a trip, rather, it was a 24/7 adventure. Having watched ‘Blood Diamond’ and ‘Hotel Rwanda,’ I expected to be spending my days hanging outside jeep windows, snapping pictures of locals carrying their effects on their heads, and my nights partying with the other N.G.O. workers on some gorgeous beach. Instead, I spent three months trying to experience my trip as if I were at home: staying in when I felt lazy and going out when I felt lonely. I spent many nights drinking terrible beer with U.N. soldiers, mostly Ghanaian, all the while exchanging eerie ghost stories. African superstitions and black magic used during the civil war were among my favorite topics. I befriended some Lebanese restaurant owners who were always up for some late-night mischief. Some days I took long walks or bike rides through the poorest of villages, which created great opportunities to interact with some local personalities. They were all too happy to relay a life story before requesting a monetary handout. I must admit, it was frustrating to see such a dependence on the foreign workers who come to this country. This cultural reality check was one of many lessons from West Africa. My contract with the ship was over all too soon, and I found myself in London awaiting a plane home three months ahead of schedule. I was disappointed, but about to learn a valuable lesson through the beauty of travel plans gone awry. Not yet ready to return to the mundane, I made a difficult decision to continue my travels. I phoned home with a request along the lines of “Send money … because, uhhhh, I won’t be on a plane to L.A. tomorrow … I’ll … uhhhh … I’ll be on a train to Edinburgh.” And I did. I went on to spend a couple of months in Europe, staying in hostels and visiting aid workers I had met in Africa. For the most part, my stay in Europe was quite typical. I spent seven or eight days in each city, usually settling in the capitals and relishing the beauty of the “Old World.” Having seen the war-torn streets of Monrovia, and refined coffee houses in Vienna, I began to miss the original inspiration for my travels, China. I had just enough funds left to make the trip to Nanchang, survive on inexpensive local food, and snap a few more photographs of a different culture. Once my stay in China had ended, it was time for a long trip home. I caught six separate flights and spent two nights on airport floors, all to save a mere $350. Grueling as some of my decisions turned out to be, I know they are going to be wonderful memories to reflect upon when I am no longer young, dumb, and broke. Europe was new, China was exciting, but it was my stay in Africa that left the strongest impression on me. It was the experience of a lifetime and I’d go back tomorrow if I could. I don’t know who benefited more in the long run: the Liberians I was there to assist, or me. Either way, the combined three months in Africa, two in Europe, and three weeks in China were not merely a trip of a lifetime, but the beginning of a life-long adventure … I hope. My experiences, specifically in Liberia, planted some tough questions within me: questions I hope to answer one day, with an open mind and camera in hand. Robert Larson, 22, grew up in the Palisades and attended Calvary Christian School for 11 years. He is living in San Diego and attending school for EMT certification. Since his trip, he has had two photographs published and is enrolled in the Julia Dean Photography certificate program. His Web site is www.RobertLarsonPhotography.com.
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