Kosovo
Witnessing
humanity destroy itself is deeply depressing. Deciding whether
to photograph a Serb village where 14 people have been killed
the night before or to document an Albanian funeral for victims
of a mass execution is horrible. Frankly, neither choice is
appealing.
Watching families try to recognize their dead relatives is just
as distressing as watching soldiers try to kill one another.
The image of a crying 7-year-old child hiding her face behind
a photo of her father who was executed with 79 other villagers
is emblazoned in my brain. She will never forget what happened
to him and I will never forget her.
Some days I really question this job, but in the end I know
that I'm fortunate to witness the truth. I'm reminded of a memorial
service last summer where I watched journalists stand on graves
while shoving microphones in the faces of mourners. They asked,
"How do you feel?" I watched the same mourners separated from
their families and herded like cattle on to buses that hauled
them off to unknown destinations. I remember feeling helpless
and wondering if they would ever be able to return to their
homes.
It is hard to describe how overwhelming it is to witness 65,000
people fenced into an area just over the border of Kosovo, living
on their own excrement after walking for days through snowy
mountains with
Ami Vitale
Ami Vitale, 28, is a freelance photographer who's been based
in Prague for more than two years. From there, she traveled
to Kosovo where she spent eight months documenting the plight
of refugees. Prior to her move to Prague, she worked as an editor
for the Associated
Press in New York and Washington D.C. She's also worked
for USA Today
and the Raleigh
News and Observer. Currently, she is working on projects
in southern Africa for a British magazine.
To view more of Ami's photography, check out her Web
site. You can also drop Ami a line at Amivitale@aol.com.
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no food or water. Some of these people were my friends, many
of these people were doctors,lawyers and students. All of
these people had homes and families, and all were dispossessed.
Some were tossed out by their neighbors or acquaintances and
sometimes even friends.
Tens of
thousands fled to Montenegro, Serbia's smaller and only partner
left in the Yugoslav Federation. Hundreds of thousands left
for Albania, seeking refuge from the aggression. I went to
funerals, both Serbian and Albanian, but never, never did
I dream that an entire population could be forced from their
homes.
I documented the devastation, hoping it would make a difference,
but the one thing that is so hard to show is the passion that
exists. It is this passion that eluded me and kept me returning
to this place. I wanted to understand it and how it drives
people to these actions.
I constantly wonder how human beings can do this to each other.
Clearly, they must not view each other as human beings.
-- Ami Vitale
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