Venturing into the Heart of Manila

Episode Summary

Photographer Hannah Reyes Morales grew up in Manila, Philippines and was curious about the world beyond her home. As a teenager, she was inspired by photographer Annie Griffiths' book A Camera, Two Kids, and a Camel, which showed a woman photojournalist's behind-the-scenes life on assignment. Morales started working as a news photographer in Manila, learning to work quickly to capture images. She later moved to Cambodia, where she connected with a broader international photography community. In Cambodia, Morales documented forced marriages under the Khmer Rouge and the rare couples who fell in love despite the trauma. She tried to balance portraying the sweetness of the couples now while not forgetting the atrocities they endured. Back in the Philippines, Morales covered President Duterte's violent war on drugs campaign. She noticed that amidst the crime scenes, life went on - people comforted babies, did karaoke, celebrated birthdays. Her work explores how people create safe spaces and find refuge in turmoil. Morales says her own childhood trauma informs her interest in how people care for each other. She aims to learn from her subjects' grace and resilience. Morales feels connected to stories about how women provide support structures when formal ones are lacking. She is driven by curiosity about humanity and a desire to process her experiences by learning from others.

Episode Show Notes

While growing up, Hannah Reyes Morales wasn’t allowed to venture out into the rough streets of Manila, but later her work as a photographer would take her there. In the city’s dark corners, she shed light on the Philippine government’s violent war on drugs and the plight of some of the city’s most vulnerable citizens. For more information on this episode, visit nationalgeographic.com/overheard.  Want More? Hannah Reyes Morales’s Living Lullabies project showcases nighttime rituals all over the world, including those of health-care workers during the COVID-19 pandemic.  Ten million Filipinos work abroad. Hear their stories and see Hannah’s photos in this story. And you can see parts one and two of Hannah’s reporting on the Philippine drug war.  Also explore: To see the portraits of couples who fell in love after being forced to marry each other during the Khmer Rouge era, check out the Al Jazeera story “Only ‘Lovers’ Left Alive” by Dene-Hern Chen.  And take a look at the photo essay Hannah produced about domestic workers for Parts Unknown, which includes images of Nanay, the woman who raised her.  To view more of Hannah’s work, you can follow her on Instagram @hannahreyesmorales. If you like what you hear and want to support more content like this, please consider a National Geographic subscription. Go to natgeo.com/exploremore to subscribe today.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Episode Transcript

SPEAKER_01: Picture Manila, the sprawling capital of the Philippines, and the center of a violent government crackdown on the drug trade. The city is awash with crime scenes. Neighbors come out of their homes to look at the victims and watch the authorities take them away. Hannah Reyes Morales was among the reporters who covered these crime scenes between 2016 and 2018, and she saw how people tried to go on about their daily lives amidst such violence. SPEAKER_00: I had seen this family where, you know, of course the baby was crying, someone was just shot and the baby was having trouble going to sleep. And I just saw, you know, a mom trying to soothe the child. And I thought, hmm, super interesting. You know, like lullabies are actively being used as a way to create safety in this very, very violent environment. SPEAKER_01: Hannah also thought about when her four-year-old stepson moved into an apartment with her not too long ago, and how she tried to soothe him with a lullaby. SPEAKER_00: The sounds of the place, of the city was new to him. The environment, the bed he was sleeping on, everything was new. So he was just getting really apprehensive. You know, I had a moment of panic and I pick him up and then I started singing. And I realized when I was doing that, I started to ask myself, whose fears was I really assuaging? Was it his or was it also mine? SPEAKER_01: Hannah's curiosity led her around the world, documenting songs and nighttime rituals for a project called Living Lullabies. SPEAKER_00: Mona is one of those grandmothers who's very involved in her grandchildren's lives. SPEAKER_01: Mona Idris is a Syrian refugee Hannah met in Hatay, Turkey. Mona's neighbors would threaten to call the police and report her grandson's crime. SPEAKER_00: So in the middle of the night, she would get up and in fear, you know, she would hold the baby and start singing. And for her, the lullaby is a prayer to God. SPEAKER_01: Showing how people comfort each other when things are tough is a strong theme in Hannah's work. SPEAKER_00: And I think, you know, between the story and all my other stories where I've always been asking the question of what constitutes how we make safety for ourselves. One of the things that I learned from lullabies is how much this song, which is so old and so universal, really connects us not just across geographical locations, but also through time. And I think that gave me a lot of comfort, you know, that as human beings, we have this instinct. We have this instinct to comfort, to soothe in the face of all these sort of difficult things that I've been photographing. That has been truly one of the greatest gifts of working on this story. SPEAKER_01: I'm Peter Gwynn and you're listening to Overheard at National Geographic, a show where we eavesdrop on the wild conversations we have here at Nat Geo and follow them to the edges of our big, weird, beautiful world. This week, I talked to photographer Hannah Reyes Morales, who's covered the war on drugs in the Philippines and forced marriages in Cambodia. She'll share what it was like growing up in Manila and how she got her start in photo journalism and her journey to document the ways people find refuge in the midst of turmoil. More after this. SPEAKER_00: I grew up in a very messy Manila. I always say I'm from the messy parts of Manila. I'm from Manila, Manila. What does that mean, the messy parts? SPEAKER_00: I had an insular childhood in that I wasn't really allowed to go out into the streets. My mom didn't feel safe for me to go outside the streets, but my house was very much a bustling home. It was, you know, we had about a dozen to 14, 16 people at a time, depending on which relatives were visiting, who was coming in and out of the diaspora. It was a very bustling house. I grew up, I never had my own bed. Oh, really? SPEAKER_01: You didn't have your own bed? No, I never had my own bed. SPEAKER_00: So you guys are sort of sharing or you're? SPEAKER_00: Yeah, I was bed sharing. We had a room that I shared with my mom and whoever relative needed space at the time. And yeah, it was just very much a busy, busy home. SPEAKER_01: And so you said people were sort of going and coming a lot. Were they traveling abroad? Was that, were they part of this diaspora that you were talking about? SPEAKER_00: I think at the time I didn't really understand the meaning of diaspora. You know, as a kid, from your point of view, people were just leaving all the time. You had some of your best friends suddenly going into places where you can only imagine, and then they would sometimes come to visit and they would be completely different people. And suddenly they had an American accent. They had gone to camp, things that you would watch in television. They were going to high schools where they didn't have to wear a uniform. I was like, what? You know, like cousins, really, most of my cousins now live abroad and most of my relatives and my aunties now live abroad. And also the experience of just being the one left behind as everybody started leaving was an interesting experience because you then have these cousins who are younger than you, sending you hand-me-downs from the US. You would get, in the Philippines, we have this thing called Balik Bayan boxes, and these are the boxes that the diaspora will then send home. So, you know, every time we'd have one of those boxes, I'd be back home and I would be, you know, looking through the objects there and, you know, exclaiming how it smells like America, even if I hadn't been there. Even if I hadn't been to America. SPEAKER_01: Like what would be in the box? Like what kind of things? SPEAKER_00: It would be old clothes. It would be toiletries. It would be spam. It would be- Really? SPEAKER_01: You got spam? Yeah, we got spam. SPEAKER_00: Just, I think, you know, different families will have different versions, but often there are through lines that are the same. There's always Bath & Body Works, hand sanitizer. Spam is a very common theme. The Gap is a very common theme. Wow, that's interesting that those are sort of the defining sort of, you know, SPEAKER_01: products that show up in a box to sort of define America. Spam. And so I had this view of what the outside world was as well from the eyes of people SPEAKER_00: who were migrants. And I think that that was interesting because, you know, you grew up with these people, you know where they're from, and yet they're living an entirely different experience than you. And then you would hear about what America is like through the eyes of my cousins. And I would hear about what Singapore or Canada is like through the eyes of my cousins. And they're usually not what you see on television about what America is or what Singapore is. Yeah, so what was different about what they would say versus what you saw? SPEAKER_00: Well, one, I think they just weren't living in the centers that often popular culture about America is set in. And I think, you know, they would also have these experiences that at the time I probably didn't have the language for, and they probably didn't have the language for, but they were beginning to reject Filipino culture. Or they were, and that was falling onto us, you know, like when we would write letters to each other or we would be on phone calls with each other, my cousins would then, you know, really be hard on me if my English was wrong. Really? Yeah. And you know, it's like, you better if you're going to speak English, you have to speak English well. And, you know, at the time I didn't really register what that meant, but you know, that was probably what she was being told. So yeah, so you just had a different lens into these other worlds. SPEAKER_01: I think you've written at, when you were 14, you saved up to buy a copy of Annie Griffith's book, a camera, two kids and a camel. Uh-huh. SPEAKER_00: Yeah. SPEAKER_01: Tell me about that. SPEAKER_00: Yeah, when I was a teenager, I had saved up enough money to buy that book. And what was interesting about a camera, two kids and a camel was one, it was from the perspective of a woman and two, it was from the perspective of a mother. And it was just very interesting because it was one of those first touch points with photography that sort of disrupted my preconceived notions of what a National Geographic photographer was. Right. SPEAKER_01: Yeah, so for people who don't know, Annie Griffith is a long time National Geographic photographer and that book was sort of a compilation, I guess, of many of her assignments or photos from many of her assignments. And a lot of it was behind the scenes too. SPEAKER_00: So I thought that that was some of my most favorite pictures. They were just pictures of her kids kind of being part of this landscape of wherever she was going on assignment. Yeah. And I just thought that that was really interesting. I thought seeing the connections between people from two very different cultures in the context of her being on assignment was just incredible. SPEAKER_01: Tell me about certain, okay, so you sort of go beyond the sort of the casual experimentation and you move into this job with a wire service. How did you get that? SPEAKER_00: I took an elective and this is in Manila, right? This is in Manila. Yeah. So I took an elective and my professor at the time was a photographer at a wire agency. And so I asked him if I could intern. And at the time I thought that that meant making coffee and proofreading captions. I thought that that's what that meant. But as soon as I get into the office, he hands me these cameras, which were much more robust than the one I had. And he was telling me that I needed to go photograph with one of the photographers and to just go with him. And I was wearing white pants and sandals and we had to go into a coal yard. It was very interesting. Lesson number one is a new photographer, white pants, not the best gear. SPEAKER_01: Definitely not wear white pants. SPEAKER_00: I still have photos from that day. It's hilarious. But yeah, but at the time I was, I think, 19 or 20. So I didn't even think that I could ever be a photographer. SPEAKER_01: So how did working as a photographer in this really early period change the way that you thought of yourself? SPEAKER_00: I think that working in the wire was really, really good for me in that I learned how to be quick with making an image. I learned how to sometimes make an image when some places just not visual. But in a lot of ways, I think after having worked there and what I know now, I think there was a lot of things that I also had to unlearn in terms of how I thought about story. Because also in a lot of ways, I didn't fit in that world. At the time, I was one of very few women. I was one of very few young women. And it was all these really quite like burly, tito type, uncle type men who are great. But you just aren't quite a fit with them. And at the time, I think I was just trying to fit in. And then I wasn't really myself. You know, I was trying to be more masculine, you know, trying to be more badass. And that just isn't my strength right now. Like, I know now that I'm at this stage, I know that my strength is that I can be invisible, that I can come into a space and be part of it and document moments intimately. But you know, at the time, it was just a very different landscape that I was navigating. And I thought that that was what I needed to be. And I think that that was very discouraging because it just wasn't who I was. And I didn't, I don't, I don't think that photographers should have to kill who they are in order to be photographers. SPEAKER_01: So you had this desire to kind of go deeper on some stories. And you ended up moving to Cambodia. How did that, how did you decide to move to Cambodia? SPEAKER_00: I'd always wanted to move abroad. So my boyfriend at the time was my husband now, had a job offer both in Manila and in Cambodia. And we knew we wanted to be together. So he said, would you like to move with me? And so I just did. It was one of those kind of things you decide on a whim. And it was the first time I'd ever looked at, I'd ever been introduced to a more international photography community. They have, you know, the Angkor Photo Festival there. So that was really interesting, kind of like being around other photographers from different places. SPEAKER_01: Well, it's interesting you tell me this backstory on moving to Cambodia, because the story that I know that you did there was the Only Lovers Left Alive story. Can you talk about that a little bit? SPEAKER_00: So that was this story by one of my friends, Dean Chen. And she wanted to do a story on forced marriages. And it's very different from arranged marriages. People were forcing people to marry each other and to consummate their marriages to show their loyalty to the Khmer Rouge, essentially. But then there were these couples who in the midst of that, and in their shared trauma, fell in love. And so they decided that they wanted to have a real marriage, you know, decades after they were forced to marry each other. And I think that that was important for them because, you know, weddings, which were validated by the community rather than these forced weddings that they had to do at the time was just an important thing for their relationships. But at the same time, you know, documenting that, but at the same time, remembering how those cases are very sweet, and it's very heartwarming to see them. But also, how do you document that in a way where you also don't forget how terrible that experience was and how traumatic that experience was, and how rare also these people are. So that was, I guess, what we were trying to navigate at the time. SPEAKER_01: Well, and was this one of the first stories where you felt like you had to kind of like really be sort of on intimate terms with people to sort of capture these kinds of images? SPEAKER_00: It wasn't the first story that I had felt that. I think the first story that I was capturing intimate moments was a story I did on the woman who raised me, Nanae. As a child, I'd always puzzled about why domestic workers weren't part of family pictures. So I was doing that story because I just wanted to take their pictures and I wanted them to be part of our family history, and I just wanted them to be part of my archive of images of my own family. So I was documenting how their lives look like when they're navigating employment and family in parallel. So that was sort of like my first photo documentary story. And interestingly enough, years later after I'd done that story, Anthony Bourdain went to the Philippines, and he did a chapter on domestic workers cooking. And one of the pieces that they wanted to produce as kind of like a web counterpart of the episode of Parts Unknown was they wanted to produce these photo stories. And so they reached out to me and they wanted to publish my work on Nanae as an additional sidebar piece to that. They published one of her recipes and I took the food photos of her recipes. And so it just felt very, it came full circle because when I was starting to do that story, I didn't really know where it would end up. I was doing it mostly for myself. And it was like an interesting exercise in connecting with Nanae now that I was an adult and I hadn't lived at home for a long time. And we took the pictures and then it came out and it came out with her recipe. And I thought that that was a really lovely sort of way to celebrate her and her life. SPEAKER_01: I know one other assignment that you worked on that's very different from these other stories that we've been talking about is the war on drugs in the Philippines. Tell me a little bit about how you came to cover that. Like you spent your time in Cambodia and then you moved back to the Philippines? I moved back to the Philippines during the time of the Duterte administration. SPEAKER_00: I felt very strongly about the need to be there at the time, to document what was going on and the changes that was going on in my country. When Duterte was elected in the Philippines, he began this campaign to end drugs. And a big part of that campaign was killing drug users and drug pushers and being very hardline about it. And so thousands of people died in this ongoing bloody war on drugs. So I was getting assigned to do these stories about the war on drugs in the Philippines. You know, it's a very intense story in that it's a lot of death and violence. So I did that story in two parts because while I was getting assigned to cover that story, I would notice that every time we would photograph in these crime scenes, there were all these people coming around the dead body. And then after the body would be collected, after the media had gone, these people would then return to their homes. And I was always curious about how life continued amidst all this death and violence. So I was looking at how tenderness and love continue in spaces like that, in contested spaces like that, and how people live normal lives and celebrate birthdays and do karaoke after having seen something like that happen to your neighbor. How has your own personal experience informed that kind of work? SPEAKER_01: I think for me, the overarching theme now of my stories or the stories that I worked SPEAKER_00: the longest on, at least, has been about safe space making. You know, in a lot of ways, my story about communities living amidst the drug war was about how people navigating that particular environment were trying to create safe spaces amidst their own communities when their communities were under attack. The story that I did with Nanae was about how she was creating a safe space for me and also creating safe space for my family. Circling back to my background and my childhood, growing up and having experienced trauma, I began to understand what the process of safe space making meant and understanding that in the lack of these formal structures of support, often women are creating those structures for support for themselves. So I think that that's been sort of a through line in all of my stories. And all of the stories that at least I feel closest to is that, yeah, how are people keeping each other safe? Okay, can you describe the trauma that you experienced as a young person? SPEAKER_01: So I was assaulted when I was 14. And so that shook me a lot. SPEAKER_00: And, you know, whatever the status quo was just moved, like, just completely, you know, just completely was destroyed for me. The status quo in the sense of like your sense of security. SPEAKER_01: My sense of security, what I believe to be true, what, you know, like the rules of what SPEAKER_00: kept me safe just changed. And I think a lot of the work that I do now in a lot of ways, what I'm curious about has to do with what I'm trying to process as well in the world. So I never leave a story without having really learned something new, both about these other people, but also about my own experiences. You know, every time when you're working really hard on a story, you get these sort of these moments where you just find someone who's incredible grace and who's incredible resilience and who's incredible way of processing the situation that you're trying to document, just really reveals so much about humanity to you. And I think that that's just what keeps me going in the work and what keeps me interested in these stories, because I'm always learning something new and I'm always finding things that I think are very surprising. SPEAKER_01: Hannah Reyes Morales, thank you very much. Thanks. SPEAKER_00: Thanks. SPEAKER_01: Please consider leaving a review. It really helps other listeners find us. SPEAKER_01: Overheard at National Geographic is produced by Laura Sim, Brian Gutierrez, Alana Strauss, Marci Thompson, and Jacob Pinter. Our senior editor is Eli Chen. This episode was also edited by Bob Molesky. Our executive producer of audio is Devar Ardilhan, who also produced this episode. Michelle Harris fact checked this episode. Hans Dale Su composed our theme music and engineers our episodes. The National Geographic Society, committed to eliminating and protecting the wonder of our world, funds the work of National Geographic Explorer, Hannah Reyes Morales. This podcast is a production of National Geographic Partners. Whitney Johnson is the director of visuals and immersive experiences. Susan Goldberg is National Geographic's editorial director. And I'm your host, Peter Gwen. Thanks for listening. We'll see you all next time.