Her adopted daughter in Congo expects her back – Emese Balázs-Fülöp, the globetrotting Transylvanian photographer

Miradi

"In March, I finally got to meet my adopted daughter, five-year-old Miradi. I first visited Congo in the autumn of 2018, when I decided I wanted to make a difference in someone's life. The Foundation for Africa brought us together in the spring of 2020 after she had unfortunately lost both her mum and dad. She lives with her grandmother and two sisters. I can't even put into words the feeling when we first met. We knew each other from a photograph, she knew who I was, but in a church in Kinshasa, we just looked at each other from the pews for hours. She didn't dare come up to me in the courtyard either, but as soon as I started playing with other children, she ran up and hugged my leg, indicating that I was hers. She might have even told so to the others in Lingala. From then on, we played, drew, and ate together, she sat on my lap, and in the evenings she would say goodbye crying. When I left, she could not be comforted. I had planned to bring her home in the summer, but I realized that I must not take her out of her little environment. It wouldn't be fair to show her what's here and then take her back. They live according to completely different traditions, and I realized I had to support her development there. I wanted to help the whole family, as it would be hard for her grandmother to see one grandchild eat and the others don’t.

I send them flour and toiletries every month, but - to give them a net as well as fish - I've opened a small shop so they can support themselves.

Together we found a place for it, painted it, and opened it. They sell water, soft drinks, dried fruit, and we bought a fridge, which is a big deal in the 40 degrees there. This is Emy's Little Shop."

The way

"Before my first trip to Africa, I took an experienced photographer friend to Romania, and while he was taking pictures, I sat next to him and took pictures with my phone. We went home and he told me that my pictures were much better than his and that I should work on that because I had a special perspective. Then in Africa, I said to a Hungarian photographer that I wanted to be a photographer too! I'll never forget his answer: he's not a photographer, he's a photographic artist. That's how much he helped me. I ended up self-educating myself, and today I got accepted as a member of the World Association of Hungarian Photographer Artists. One of my pictures is currently travelling through 12 countries and several others are exhibited in Stockholm. I used to work in a media company, but I quit because I realised that as a Transylvanian girl I had lost myself in the glamour. I was not happy in that environment.

I went to El Camino and I realised that my path was to help. In Romania, I am now starting my own international foundation for children. Why not help wherever my journey as a photographer takes me? I would like to bring people like me together."

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Images of life in Asia - Photos: Emese Balázs-Fülöp

First time in Africa

"My childhood dream was to go to Africa. This first happened in 2018, when we went to Congo with doctors, nurses and volunteers to renovate a small clinic, treat malaria and Ebola, organised by the Foundation for Africa. It was a shocking experience, even though I had been to India and other poorer countries several times before. In Congo, we didn't know whether to be more afraid of the policeman or the man in the street. They are quick to express to white people of how much harm they have suffered from them throughout history. I was prepared for the fact that the policeman would probably not protect me, but might even kidnap me - for ransom. Because of this fear, we had a few sleepless nights in the countryside where we slept or would have slept in a windowless room with someone taking turns sleeping on a chair pushed up to the door, and even had our cars pushed up against the building. If someone had to go to the toilet, all ten of us went. Even between two villages, soldiers and policemen stood on the road, demanding money to let us through. In some places they even put a chain of nails on the road and pointed their guns at our car. We didn't feel like we were coming to help and they were happy to see us... The fifth time, the driver accelerated, we ducked down in the car, they jumped out of the way but smashed the mirror and the window. Now the system has changed, there was a presidential election, this year I didn't even see a policeman, I was walking alone on the street in Kinshasa."

 "But I was unable to talk about my first trip to Congo for a month, it took me that long to get over the shock."

Life in Congo

"I brought a lot of things for the children. I gave a little girl a candy, and she ate it with the covering. I also brought them little coloured cards to learn to draw, but they just waved the pen like a knife in the air, trying to hit the paper, they had no idea that they are supposed to put it down and draw on it. We are talking about teenagers. A little girl sat on my lap, I stroked her hair and she started shouting. She was not supposed to be touched, apparently that's not how parents express their love there. Six or seven members of a family live in a 2x3 meters room, that’s their kitchen and their living room, too. At night they cover the floor and sleep there. But they are happy because they have a place to sleep, while many wander around during the day and sleep at night in the church or wherever they can, as they have no property. In the capital everything costs as much as in Budapest... In the countryside they grow bananas, peanuts, keep chickens, goats and pigs, but in the big city there is 70% unemployment, and everywhere you look you see crowds. Even the ordinary people are armed, they carry machine guns on their backs. Accidents don't even happen because they shoot on purpose, but because, let’s say, they jump on a car and it accidentally goes off. When I travelled alone they were less afraid of me than when we moved in groups. I blended in, I smiled, I bought from the locals to show them that I wasn't repulsed by their water, their merchandise, because that's what repulses them too. I took a picture of an old man in the market, and he started shouting at me so I started shouting at him in Hungarian. Finally he laughed and we became such good friends that from then on he gave me coffee every day. There is a service in a small church on Saturdays, from morning till early afternoon. They pray, sing, have a teaching day. Everyone from the village is there, they pick a theme - say ’goodness’ - and talk about it."

Hospital and leprosy shelter

"To start with, they would have to walk 50 kilometres by road to the doctor. We brought the equipment there so that hundreds of children could be cured of malaria. The medicine costs one dollar, we bought it there, we administered it and we saved a life. But the parents don't have a dollar. If your child with malaria dies, there are four other healthy ones, they take it like that. At those rates, they didn't even notice the Covid.

I also went to a leprosy shelter to take photos, and I brought donations there with me. It was a great experience to talk to the people there.

Everyone at home was horrified at me going there, but in today's world leprosy is curable. Of course, society there also ostracises them and doesn't welcome them back. They think they have been possessed by an evil spirit and thus they can bring bad luck to the family. I met a lovely old man who has been living there for 20 years but still hopes to get out. He's no longer contagious, but he's getting old. There are only a few beds in the central hospital, but there are about fifty people lying in one ward. Even on the floor. If you look out through the window, or rather where the window is supposed to be, you see women in the courtyard cooking for their loved ones inside, since they moved into the hospital grounds to be able to do so."

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Photos: Emese Balázs-Fülöp

Meals

"If you can have scrambled eggs for breakfast, it's a luxury. For the day, I've only taken energy bars, but if you're there with ten kids and you open one up, even the adults will look at you. Of course I broke it into pieces and handed them out. I'd rather not eat. After that, they were waiting every day to see what was in my bag. The women would carry around a basket of baguettes on their heads, and I always took some, and we drank black tea with milk. They also made fufu from tapioca and cornmeal, it was like hominy. It's filling, and they grow it in their garden. They also cook with green leaves - you don't know what it is, but I had to eat it because I was hungry."

Taking photos

"I usually take my photos at dawn, when the village or town is still waking up, when there are not fifty children accompanying me, and I am not such a conspicuous figure that I can distract them from their routine. My heart is in the portrait of people on the street, the unexpected, the unposed, the caught moment. When the sun accidentally shines on them, and the shadows fall naturally. I believe this is the true art of photography. It may not be how world-famous photographs are made, but it is the real thing. You catch an adult pondering, a child playing and smiling... I've had people I've photographed start crying because they thought I'd stolen their soul and they were going to die. Then I go and show them the picture, and they're surprised because they've never seen anything like that. I give them the phone so they can take a picture of me. Through photography I manage to get close to people. Photography has also given me a partner who has changed me. I used to never go anywhere alone, and now I am never alone. Wherever I go in the world, I have my camera hanging in my neck. I give myself to the moment, I watch people."

Loves: India, Sumatra

"The flower market in India is wonderful at dawn. When I go back, they'll recognize me from last year. I don't speak their language, but we smile at each other. Of course, you have to be careful there on your own, I always hire a local woman as a guide. She usually wants to take me to churches, but I tell her, ‘I'm interested in where you live’. I’m interested in your family, or the market where you shop. This is when they wonder, but I like to show people's real faces. As soon as they relax and see the photo, they often call the grandmother to have me take one of her, too. And in Sumatra, they invite you to eat with them wherever you go. One plays music for you, the other shows you his paintings.

This is also the point of my photography: when you take the picture, don't walk away, but rather respect them and get to know each other a little bit, and develop a bond. That way I will not only have a picture, but I’ll have a story to go with it.

I just look at the picture and it know who he is, what he said about himself, what happened there."

Transylvanian secret

"From very early age I had to be independent, go to school on my own, cook, clean. On weekends I had to collect ashtrays, wash glasses in a pub. I also had to work in the summer, and I resented it then, but it got me through life. I'll go anywhere with a bag anytime. It's true that if you break out of the Transylvanian pattern as a woman, you're a black sheep first, so you want to prove yourself even more, and if you achieve something, people back home accept you. In a good case, those who do not dare to do the same will, in time, be happy about their success and support it. It is no coincidence that I am setting up a foundation there. In Budapest, at first, three of us slept in one room, often me on the floor because my feet were hanging off the cot. I’d look at the frozen pizza in the shop thinking I’d buy one with my first salary. But what is that compared to Africa?"

Global message

"On my travels, I have made real friends who are always there for me. We also raised money for children's surgeries with a Congolese doctor who studied in Budapest and became a doctor for the poor in his home country. I was there when he operated on a little girl with appendicitis, who had been in pain for two years, and a little boy with a hernia. It was when the African children sang a Hungarian folk song, "Tavaszi szél vizet áraszt", for us at the Hungarian Foundation's school in Africa that I understood what a big deal this was.  I understood that it was because of that one man who created the Foundation for Africa, that those 700 children in uniforms - with the Hungarian flag on them - could have a meal every day. If somebody can make that from nothing, why can't anybody else? And all it takes is a kind word, maybe even at home to the woman next door, asking her if you can do the shopping for her. You don't have to go all the way to Africa to do good."