Less than Two Gallons a Day in Ethiopia

In rural Ethiopia, water is so scarce that many families survive on less than two gallons per day and walk up to four hours to find it.

Their water sources, often nearly-dry river beds or muddy holes that communities have dug together, offer water that sometimes needs to be poured through cloth to filter out leeches and debris.

Since 2007 charity: water has been working in the Tigray region of Ethiopia with the government and local water partners working towards a vision of 100% clean water coverage.

With the help of hundreds of thousands of supporters from around the world — like Noah, who taught his classmates how to weave and sold enough hand-made art to fund hand-dug wells — we’ve now funded more than 3,000 water projects in Tigray that will serve over 1.1 million people with clean and safe water near their homes. Not only that, but the community has also been trained by our local partners on safe hygiene practices and basic maintenance of their water project.

Take yourself on the charity: water journey into the heart of Ethiopia in this video series following our Content Strategist, Tyler, as he experiences life without water and meets the incredible people of Ethiopia.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

How to Find Authenticity in a Globalized World

Why do we travel? 

For those of us privileged enough to be able to travel voluntarily, reasons often include becoming more fully ourselves and experiencing something genuinely different. This desire for authenticity, in ourselves and in that which we perceive to be other and outside our current experiences, is widespread enough to be noticed and exploited by the tourism industry, with signs reading “experience the REAL Thailand” and “find yourself in Bali”.

Seeking authenticity in our travels comes from a good place. It highlights our desires for genuine interactions with other human beings, for learning about the experiences of those with different life paths and identities, and possibly even for utilizing our privilege to support real people instead of opportunistic corporations removed from the locations in which they operate.

However, as is the case with many good intentions, this desire for authenticity can be harmful. Much of this harm stems from a strict and arbitrary idea of what counts as authentic and the fact that the privileged traveler has the power to decide what makes the cut. For instance, while spending 3 months in Zimbabwe a few years ago, I asked several friends what their cuisine had looked like prior to British colonization.  As their current main foodstuff, a labor-intensive dry porridge called sadza that holds its shape when spooned onto a plate, is made of cornmeal, it couldn’t have existed prior to the transfer of corn to Africa from the Americas.  I’ve had similar questions about Italian, British and South Asian cuisines before tomatoes, potatoes, and chili peppers made a similar journey.  From my perspective, sadza was a colonial by-product, as was the black tea served alongside it.  When I shared this view with my friends, the effect was clear: my strict and arbitrary definition of what could be considered authentically Zimbabwean delegitimized and minimized their identity and emotional ties to the food they knew and loved. 

This highlights a tendency in our search for authenticity - to regard older traditions and cultural forms and those which predate recent cultural exchange as more authentic.  This viewpoint is understandable, especially as a reaction against the infiltration of Western corporations such as Coca Cola into most crannies of the world, including a remote village in eastern Zimbabwe, and the Westernization of many popular tourist destinations, from food offerings to street signs. Yet the reality is that all places and peoples are dynamic.  Historical and current globalization, the movement of people, ideas and things, has fostered cultural exchange and the transformation of traditions over time.  Cultures also evolve without interaction with outside forces. When we define authenticity as similarity of a particular part of a culture to its version at a particular point in history, we mistakenly regard people and places as static, freezing them in time.  

Aside from our tendency to award authentic status to more longstanding traditions, we also withhold this label unless the cultural form feels “other” enough and different enough from our cultural forms to be plausibly untainted by them.  But ironically and cruelly, our globally dominant culture and associated language simultaneously demand conformity for material gain and social acceptance. Without this, the inherent amount of difference between cultures would render many practically inaccessible to travelers.

When we travel in search of authenticity with these unconscious assumptions and unfair expectations lurking in our minds, we often end up unknowingly demanding that locals perform a certain version of their culture for our tourist dollars. The result is a paradox: we want specific historical versions of cultures that are different enough from our own to feel authentic but similar enough to actually understand and enjoy. We travel to search for authenticity, but by traveling we reinforce the global dominance of our culture which demeans and degrades the other cultures we seek to experience. Seeking authenticity obscures it from us.

It also shortchanges us. Traveling with a particular idea of what authentic looks, tastes, smells and sounds like creates expectations and takes our attention away from what is.  When we’re less present with ourselves, where we are, and the people around us, we’re less likely to feel deeply satisfied in addition to being more likely to cause accidental harm.


So, what to do? Here are some guidelines for navigating these realities:

1. Take people and places as they are now

Don’t force them to live up to some idea conjured up by tourist companies, history books, or your own mind as the antithesis to your everyday life. Don’t expect them to be similar enough to be accessible and understandable to you. On the flip side, don’t expect them to be different enough so that you can feel like you’ve escaped your daily grind and your culture.  Manage your expectations or avoid forming them.  Of course, it is very hard to travel with no inkling of what you’re going to find once you arrive, but be honest with yourself.  Why are you drawn to particular places? What expectations do you have?  Find balance - have just enough foresight to plan yet not enough to keep you from accepting what is when you’re there. The best days often come when you're not expecting them. 


2. Only do what you actually want to do

Travel guides and guidance from friends are riddled with “must sees”.  What if nothing on those lists strikes your fancy?  I almost always skip museums when I travel.  While you could argue that I’m missing out on important historical context, I would argue that I’ve never absorbed this information from museums even when I’ve forced myself to go to them. Luckily, each place and culture and even person is unfathomably complex and contains endless dimensions. Engage in the same activities you enjoy in back home and try new ones which feel right.  Do you in a new place. By living your truth while traveling, you’re more likely to find authenticity in the place you’re visiting.


3. Engage other cultures carefully

Cultural exchange can be mutually beneficial but it can also be oppressive.  Acknowledge the power dynamics in your interactions with non-travelers. Be aware that you probably embody and therefore unknowingly reinforce ideals that other people must conform to in order to gain social currency and acceptance.   And make sure your engagement with other cultures doesn’t cross the line into appropriation. Appropriation can take many forms, but it almost always involves travelers benefiting materially from or being praised for a particular cultural form while the people to whom that cultural form belongs are ridiculed, persecuted, or exploited for it. Engage from a place of humility to learn, not to seek validation or make money. Always respect the stated boundaries of engagement, and where appropriate, wait to be invited.

SARAH LANG

Instigated by studies in Sustainable Development at the University of Edinburgh, Sarah has spent the majority of her adult life between 20+ countries.  She is intrigued by the global infrastructure that produces inequality and many interlocking revolutionary solutions to the ills of the world as we know it.  As a purposeful nomad on a journey to eradicate oppression in all its forms, she has worked alongside locals from Sweden to Zimbabwe.  She is a lover of compassionate critique, aligning impacts with intentions, and flipping (your view of) the world upside down. 

 

Conscious Capitalism: Meet Gingi Medina, Founder of Equites, An Equestrian Lifestyle Brand

Gingi Medina

There is a duality that radiates from clothing designer Gingi Medina. She is a determined, audacious business owner, who also cares deeply about the world, and minimizing waste. She struck out on her own, in part, because of the massive overproduction she saw in her industry. After a dozen years working in fashion, Gingi became disgusted by the excessive wastefulness in the manufacturing process, and thought there must be a better way to produce beautifully made garments, without littering the planet. 

She began brainstorming ways to use materials that utilized the entire plant, animal, or raw substance. After years of making clothes, bags, and goods, Medina founded the lifestyle brand, Equites. The company, which is known for its leather, uses reclaimed and raw materials that are sourced ethically, she says.

In deciding to make leather goods, Medina argues that it's an emission-less process. Leather is a "conscious material" she says, because it's sturdy, durable, and long lasting.  "It's a forever piece," she says. "If I make a bag out of leather, it has a far less, if any, carbon footprint left on the planet." Leather, Medina claims, does not require much processing because it utilizes a material that is taken directly from a natural source, versus a synthetic piece or garment-- including vegan leather-- which is manufactured and produced with emissions. She says her goods can last a consumer’s lifetime, so a buyer will need only one of her bags for example, rather than multiple synthetic bags that eventually wear out and need to be replaced. "The carbon footprint from a manmade item is far more extensive," Medina says.

The Weekender Bag, £800 [$1006 USD]

Medina didn't always know she'd be a conscientious designer. As a child growing up in Los Angeles, she imagined she'd be "an astronaut or the next Madonna." Magician also made the list of what Gingi thought she'd do one day. By the time she was 9 years old, she began calling herself "a designer." She recalls watching her first fashion show and thinking of predicting trends, sewing, and being able to say, "I made that." Ten years later those predictions began springing to life, and she entered the fashion realm as a fit model for petites. One day a designer asked her what she wanted to do, and she replied, "your job." That not so quiet confidence, that some have called "crazy", has served her well. 

During her younger years, while partying in Hollywood, she says she encountered a well-dressed guy. Upon learning he was a designer, she offered to be his apprentice, working for free. Everyday for a year, beginning at 7am, Gingi set out to learn all she could about design. She learned how to construct leather, metal and denim. She made clothes for rock musicians, and clothing for tours-- most notably Ozzfest.

Medina’s work has also included her dressing celebs, working on TV shows, and ensuring certain designers' wares were featured prominently via product placement. She's worked as a buyer, and also in private label-- offering clothing styles to retailers who then put their own label on the garments. Medina has worked and studied fashion overseas. It was during her travels abroad and also mingling with and being inspired by people who've worked abroad, that she had some of her most successful innovations. She designed the Von Dutch "No More Landmines" tee-shirt after Angelina Jolie did mission work with the Halo Trust, which deactivates land mines in war ravaged regions. It was also during this time, that Medina began to reflect on the inefficiencies within fashion production and wondered, "Am I harming or helping... in my career." She remembers seeing freight containers filled with the previous fashion season's discarded garments and the subsequent feelings of what such wastefulness does to the planet. She noted that her clothes, and other finely made garments, were items consumers could have "for a lifetime", and even be "passed down", minimizing some of the waste. The ideas for change were within her, still she said it was, "hard to keep focus when the world is crumbling around you." 

Leather Riders, £1800 [$2265 USD]

Ultimately, Median created her own brand, Equites, in 2011. She describes it as a "five tier label where performance meets fashion." Her line includes leather goods—pants, bags and jackets—but also cashmere, performance gear, and transition wear. She says her clothes serve as a "smart garment" that allows customers to segue "between worlds" and be just as comfortable and coiffed wearing riding pants, for instance, in an equestrian event as one would be at a premiere. Her line's leather pants, for example, are made of 17 panels sewed together on top of a water wicking, breathable legging, making it suitable for multi directional athletic endeavors and fitting to wear throughout the day.

When she initially showcased these designs, Gingi says her "idea was turned down by every label," so she produced them herself. Still committed to minimalism, and anti-waste, Gingi sought out hardware for use in buttons, and researched international communities that use the entire animal, and where she could also use their skins for her leather. 

She found the Eid al-Adha, or the Festival/Feast of Sacrifice, in Indonesia. This global Muslim holiday commemorates Abraham's willingness to obey God, and sacrifice his son, who was ultimately spared, and a ram was sacrificed in his stead. During this multi-day festival, livestock—cows, goats, sheep, and camels, depending on the region—are sacrificed, and the meat, in part, is given to the poor. After the festival, some temples will sell the animal skins to Westerners, Medina says, which she considers ethical. 

Gingi describes the “ethical use of a skin" as being "when the entire animal is used and not only sought out for its skin to make a product." Her company Equites, she says, searches "far and wide for leather or a fur that has already been used," to then "recycle or upcycle the piece into something new. [We] make sure we know where it's come from.” Medina asserts that she doesn't use slaughterhouse leathers, and does “not support, nor purchase from major manufacturing facilities,” but rather acquires her animal skins and materials in “smaller, traditional ways,” like from temples. The fabrics are naturally woven, she says, and there are no chemicals used in the dying process, which further eliminates waste.

Brass Capped Knee Height Riding Boots, £1000 [$1258 USD]

Once she gets the rawhide materials back to her factory, the leather is treated with natural ingredients like oils and rocks. Occasionally vegetable dyes are used, when a customer requests a special color. Much of her items are bespoke—made to order. Turnaround can take between 45-60 days, Gingi says. She says her method of manufacturing is less wasteful and more supportive of the planet. She claims there are no companies quite like hers. In an environment where most fashion lines are “being gluttonous and over-producing,” Gingi believes her company is “doing a better job.” Although she’s unfamiliar with any manufacturers creating clothes in the same manner and impact as she does, Medina welcomes competing brands. She wants to encourage companies to elevate their corporate responsibility. 

Medina would also like to form an alliance across industries. Fashion is seen as a “status industry”, but Gingi also has a passion to “do right by the earth”, she says. Her warehouse is slated to use a Tesla Powerwall battery—which stores electricity and solar energy for later use—and she wants to partner with other companies that have a similar vision and commitment to the environment.

Medina’s company Equites is headquartered in London and the line will be available to the masses in Fall 2017. Her wares will be available in Harrods, Harvey Nichols, boutiques, country clubs, equestrian specific stores, and on her company’s website. During the company’s soft launch, Equites currently has jewelry and wearable art, bags, and boots available at equites.co.uk  and on their Facebook page. The company is also offering an invitation to its show at London Fashion Week in September of 2017 to its first one hundred customers purchasing "diamond tier" levels of the selection pieces available pre-launch. 

 

ALEXANDREA THORNTON

Alexandrea Thornton is a journalist and producer living in NY. A graduate of UC Berkeley and Columbia University, she splits her time between California and New York. She's an avid reader and is penning her first non-fiction book. 

VIDEO: Schoolgirls For Sale in Japan

This Thursday at 12pm EDT, Simon Ostrovsky and Jake Adelstein will join 'On The Line' to discuss this story. Ask your questions on Twitter @VICENews with #OnTheLine: http://bit.ly/1Sgvvn2 Japan's obsession with cutesy culture has taken a dark turn, with schoolgirls now offering themselves for "walking dates" with adult men.

In an effort to understand a growing underground trade of school-aged girls, Vice News interviews women who have been caught up in this sinister business. 

VIDEO: E-Waste Tsunami in Delhi

A film to accompany the E-Waste Tsunami project. This film explores the industrialized landscape of the urban poor in a developing world metropolis. The urban poor are the community and sector of society to which the waste-picker and e-waste worker belong. The journey begins at the Bhalswa Landfill and associated communities in northwestern Delhi and then moves through the rapidly expanding infrastructure of the city. It concludes with a passage through unregulated housing developments that form a large part of this 21st century metropolis.

Turning Tears to Power in Nepal

Young girls share their life stories with photographer Katie Orlinsky at a rescue center in Nepal that helps victims of sex trafficking regain their freedom and happiness.

Regularly described as one of the poorest and least developed countries in the world, Nepal is a ‘source’ country for traffickers, and its most marginalised people are also the most frequently targeted. While its capital Kathmandu benefits from a growing tourist economy, in general the country’s economic potential (for example, through opportunities to develop hydropower) is stunted by continued political instability, as well as very poor infrastructure.

Rural Nepalese — some 80% of its people — rely on subsistence farming, which frequently does not provide a stable or sufficient income to feed a family. It is under these already difficult circumstances that the sweet-talking and cajoling of sex traffickers infiltrate and take hold.

Passing through the India-Nepal border in Gaur, Nepal. Nepal’s border police have been notoriously lax in stopping suspected traffickers and are known to be susceptible to bribery. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Narayani, Central Region, Nepal

Fake migration schemes are one of the most common ways girls end up trafficked. Job options are scarce in Nepal, and around 200,000 women leave to work abroad every year, mostly as domestic servants. Poor, rural women think they are going to be domestic workers in Dubai, but instead end up working as prostitutes in Delhi.

Seeking migration paperwork at the district administration office in Haidera. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Narayani, Central Region, Nepal

The sex traffickers methods are varied and unpredictable, which is why so many people fall victim to trafficking in this region, despite the initiatives and interventions of extraordinary agencies on the ground.

 Shakti Kendra in Kathmandu is one such shelter, managing to educate hundreds of girls. I met fifteen current residents during my stay, all survivors of trafficking to brothels in India or of rape within Nepal itself.

Founded by Charimaya Tamang — the first trafficking survivor in Nepal to press charges against her traffickers and win — all of the staff at the shelter are also formerly trafficked women, some of whom have been specially trained by Shakti Samuha in Japan on how to run workshops and look after their young charges.

Young sex trafficking survivors at the Shakti Kendra shelter in Kathmandu, Nepal holds up their favorite drawings. From left to right, “an angel helping a girl in need”, “an imaginary house”, “going shopping”, “a house in the mountains” (Photographs: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

The children living at Shakti Kendra take classes at the centre and are also involved in drama, weaving and jewellery making programmes.

A young survivor at Shakti Kendra traces a scene from an anti-trafficking awareness cartoon. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

As a photographer, the Shakti Kendra shelter was an extremely challenging place to work. It has a strict media policy to protect the identities of all of its members. Still, I wanted to document the girls’ world, but it meant I had to be patient, and make a lot of images with turned backs, blurred faces and deep shadows.

An underage trafficking survivor rehearsing a play about trafficking at Shakti Kendra shelter. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

In time, some of the adults opened up and let me tell their stories, but for the children, the policy was non-negotiable. Although frustrating from the point of view of documenting this issue, I respected this choice.

Trafficking survivors face huge stigma in Nepal, where the shame associated with the sex industry is so great that most survivors’ families don’t even want their own daughters to return home if they have been rescued.

A photograph discovered on the internet identifying a trafficked girl or woman could have repercussions — from an employer not wanting to hire them to a man not wanting to marry them.

Drawing class at the arts and crafts centre at Shakti Kendra Shelter. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

I was by no means the first foreign visitor to the shelter, but it was hard to tell judging by how excited they were to see me. Some nights I would stay late to watch TV with them, and those were probably some of my most relaxing and memorable evenings in Nepal. I stopped thinking about the pictures and interviews and would just enjoy the company of the sweetest girls in the world as they tried to teach me Nepali and asked me a million questions on every last detail of my life.

[1] A sex trafficking survivor who works at the Shakti central office as a receptionist. [2] A sex trafficking survivor, who now works at Shakti Kendra shelter as a recreation officer and teaches weaving. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

Growing close to women and girls who have experienced such a level trauma was difficult and emotionally exhausting at times. 

It was particularly hard with the children, like thirteen-year-old Sabina who had been rescued from a brothel in India just six months ago. She had a bright smile and so much love to give it seemed she might burst.

A Shakti Samuha adolescent group meeting in a slum area of Kathmandu, where staff members raise awareness about trafficking related issues with at-risk youth. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

She loved pop music and called me ‘Katy Perry’. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that she was the same age as my niece in New York, and how Sabina has already lived a life filled with more pain than I hope my niece would experience in a lifetime. Sabina dreamed of travelling, studying and getting a good job to help her family, who lived close by. She missed them, and talked about them constantly. What she had yet to understand was that it was her own family who sold her into trafficking.

Residents and staff at Shakti Kendra perform a play they wrote and directed themselves. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

Trafficking in Nepal is not only something that can be managed and prevented, it can end, and it can happen within our lifetime.

It starts with the work of anti-trafficking survivor-run organisations like Shakti Kendra. These women have the motivation, ability, sensitivity and understanding to tackle the issue from all angles, from prevention and rescue, to prosecution and rehabilitation. They will not shy away from fighting to identify and imprison traffickers and their collaborators, from small-time pimps to local police to family members.

One day these young girls at the centre will take their place as the next generation’s leaders in the fight against trafficking.

Young residents dancing at the Shakti Kendra shelter. (Photograph: Katie Orlinsky) Kathmandu, Nepal

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA 

WRITTEN BY THE LEGATUM FOUNDATION

The True Cost

Rent or own the film today! Visit http://truecostmovie.com for more details. Available on DVD, Blu-Ray, iTunes, Amazon, or VHX. Available on iTunes: http://apple.co/1EONAlN The True Cost is a groundbreaking documentary film that pulls back the curtain on the untold story and asks us to consider, who really pays the price for our clothing?

'The True Cost' is a story about clothing. It's about the clothes we wear, the people who make them, and the impact the industry is having on our world. Check out the trailer for this groundbreaking documentary that pulls back the curtain on untold stories of workers along the supply chain, leading the viewer to consider: who really pays the price for our clothing?