I continue to carry film cameras long after the world has gone digital. We had a darkroom when I was growing up and I learned to develop film and print photos when I was about 10.
Author Archives: Andrew Tonn
Andrew J. Tonn is a photographer, writer, and explorer. He has worked for newspapers as a staff writer and photojournalist and as a documentary reporter partnering with medical and humanitarian relief organizations in Central America, Scandinavia, Eastern Europe, The United States, and South Asia. His work has been shown in numerous exhibitions, featured on ABC News and published by National Geographic Press, National Public Radio, Human Nature, Black and White Magazine, Wired Online Magazine, Minority Rights International and numerous other publications. Tonn is now working on long-term photo-essays concerning migration and public health in the Miskito Coast region of Honduras, El Salvador, and the U.S.-Mexican border as well as a multi-national project on human trafficking. He is based out of Washington D.C. and currently lives in India.
Mumbai Part 5: a permanent change of station
MEXICO — The monsoon rains had been slow in coming. The heat built and there were clouds in the white-hot sky but the rains did not come. People died in their houses and in the streets.
Mumbai Part 4: In which one requires a proportionate response
MUMBAI–India cannot be forced. India will not adapt to you.
I am still learning the pattern and subtexts of interactions and could continue to learn them for several lifetimes to come.
Mumbai 03: Heat tempered
MUMBAI-Nothing comes easily in India. At times it feels as if everything from the bureaucracy to nature itself is out to thwart whatever you are trying to do.
Mumbai 02 : The world is changed
MUMBAI–I have a memory etched into my personal history, one I recall to remind myself of something. I was in Honduras on a nine month assignment with a medical relief NGO.
Mumbai 01: Pushan, Saint Christopher and Loki Walk into a Bar
MUMBAI–The smell hits you first. From the first moment India surrounds you, absorbs you into its atmosphere, its rush and flow. You have spent hour upon hour in the grey, nowhere interzone of the jet-plane.