top 10 personal favorites
El valle de anton conservation center (EVACC)
For me photography has always been a passion, but only recently have I made it into my career. As a graduate with degrees in the sciences I have always had a love for the environment. Growing up with the 90s with The Wild Thornberrys, The Crocodile Hunter, Bill Nye the Science Guy, and so many other gems it was a no brainer.
While at a conference on environmental education at the Zoo Atlanta around 2016, I began speaking with Dr. Joseph Mendelson and Robert Hill. Even before arriving in Panama, I had hopes to involve my love for amphibians and environmental education in my path forward. Eventually this would have a snowball effect leading to my work today towards the conservation of the Golden Frog of Panama.
Spanish wasn’t my strong suit, and truth be told it still isn’t but usually I could get my point across through pictures (drawings and photos). As a community environmental conservation (CEC) volunteer I would regularly spend what few rations I had to buy National Geographic magazines for my students. Occasionally, at the corner of the hardware store Melo in La Chorrera would be someone selling the goods. As a class we would explore the rivers with our critter keepers and snorkeling goggles looking for what animals lived in and around us or gazing at the exotic animals depicted in the stash of Nat Geo’s in our three-room schoolhouse.
On one such occasion I remember purchasing an April 2016 issue of National Geographic, the cover showing a species of Armadillo, an animal which occasionally roamed around the site and sporting a prominent and memorable title called “The Photo Ark”. Within the first few pages of the magazine, I spotted another familiar sight, the Rana Dorada, Golden Frog of Panama. A culturally significant species and symbol of luck in Panama, this species along with thousands of others were succumbing to the Amphibian Chytrid Fungus. With the last recorded sighting of the Golden Frog in the wild being in 2009 by the Panamanian biologist Edgardo Griffith, the species would slip into extinction years later with only several satellite populations internationally for captive breeding.
Early on in my service I was very nervous about using my camera in site, not because I was worried of it being damaged or stolen but because it was as valuable as most people’s homes. I would regularly fib the cost of the camera just to avoid conversations about wealth and the obvious disparities between us. It was only after seeing this magazine and the work of Joel Sartore that I finally began doing what I loved again.
Through coordination with Heidi Ross and the contacts with the Zoo Atlanta I finally visited the El Valle de Anton Conservation Center (EVACC) Foundation in early 2017 to photograph the Golden Frog of Panama. The above image was one of the other critically endangered species of frogs at the Nispero Zoo and this is still one of my favorite photos.
Panama Prints
Early in my service with the Peace Corps I realized the power of a photo.
During the initial three months of arriving in your assigned community, volunteers live with a family to help with the integration process. For me I lived in “La Casa de Rivas,” the Rivas family in Dos Aguas, Panama. A larger family, I lived with my two host brothers (Victor and Alfredo), four host sisters (Karolina, Damaris, Maribel, and Marta), my host parents (Maria and Julio), a host grandfather (Francisco), and too many pets to count.
One of the biggest things I recall from that period, apart from Dengue Fever, while showing the family some of the photos from my home back in the states it came to my attention how privileged we are to live where we do. My older host sister, Karolina Rivas, 18 at the time, disappeared through the doorway to go search for the family’s hope chest. A shoebox that was being stored under one of the three bedframes in the house. With a grin on her face, she whipped out her own photo, a “cedula” or government ID card taken of her around age five. When I asked to see other photos, I then realized how much a photo was worth.
For the remainder of my two years in site I made it a side-mission to offer family photos to anyone and everyone. I would trek around toting my cameras and drinking coffee at every house, telling stories, and talking about the weather, always the chance of rain. On trips back to the states or when family would come visit, I would coordinate to have the images printed and then with the help of family, friends, and Staples I would laminate the photos to make them last against the harsh tropical environments.
After leaving site I continued on as a Peace Corps Response volunteer, working specifically as a multimedia specialist. Always with a camera in hand I began reaching out to other volunteers and repeating the project. When 2020 rolled around and Covid finally sent me home I was proud to have left country and Panama Prints for over 20 communities.
The Nurse Shark
While scuba diving off the USS Indra on the North Carolina coast, I felt something grab my fin. At 50 feet under water, that is not something you want to feel. I flipped around to figure out the problem and came face to face with a Green Sea Turtle. My dive buddy had grabbed my fin so that I’d not miss the turtle, and I’d glad he did. That is a moment I will never forget.
Upon surfacing from that early dive, I mentioned how much I wish I could have captured that magical moment.
Later that year, my folks bought me my first camera, a Canon Powershot S95 with an underwater housing. Armed with a camera, I skipped the typical college spring break party trips in favor of a study excursion in Key Largo, Florida where I took the PADI Rescue Diver and PADI Underwater Photography certification classes.
During that week of diving, I had a chance to see many amazing underwater creatures including this nurse shark (Ginglymostoma cirratum) under a rock wall just inches from the busy beaches of Pennekamp State Park.
mangrove reforestation
Throughout the years I had the privilege to participate in so many different amazing experiences. Shortly after graduating from college, I began work with the Peace Corps and started an experience of a lifetime.
While covering the reforestation efforts of Bailey, a fellow Peace Corps volunteer, and her community members of Santa Ana, Panama I was able to snap a quick series of pictures of Ivan Gutierrez standing before a marsh of newly planted mangrove trees. Ivan, a rural farmer, and the owner of the parcel has been a leader in the community and a major proponent of returning the environment to its original state.
Historically, the people of this region of Panama had cut the mangroves to use as fuel, salt extraction, and shrimp farming but with rules and legislation outlawing the practice, these environments are beginning to recuperate.
American bullfrog
Back in the summer of 2013 while on a family road trip out to the mid-West I took this photo of an American Bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus) basking in the shallows of a pasture pond. At the time I didn’t think much of it and the image faded away into the endless sea of images on my hard drive.
It wouldn’t resurface until several months later when a friend and fellow photographer, Avery encouraged that I submit it into the North Carolina Dixie Classic Fair. I didn’t expect much to come from the experience, but low and behold a few weeks later when I went to collect my image following the fair, I found a blue second place ribbon dangling on the frame.
I don’t believe I would be the photographer that I am today without the support and encouragement of my friends and family that encouraged me to take the plunge and get out of my comfort zone.
Cerro de Cañones
As follow-up volunteers, Morgan and I were routinely reminded of our predecessors (Lucy and David) greatness and the shoes we were meant to fill. Morgan, the volunteer in La Honda, roughly a 30-minute drive or five-hour hike from my site, the community of Dos Aguas. One of the activities that David and Lucy shared with the kids of the two communities was camping. The two would regularly coordinate fieldtrips to surrounding mountainsides, National Parks, and landscapes for overnight excursions.
The image before you is our view that morning from one of the fieldtrips Morgan and I coordinated to the “cerro” or hillside overlooking the community of La Honda. Quite often we wouldn’t have enough tents for all the students and volunteers, so I usually stuck with my trusty ENO hammock suspended six feet off the ground to give enough tautness to keep my back straight. It worked well but if there was wind, water, or mosquitoes…not so much. This morning after a night of poor sleep, staying up well into the night to watch the campfire, the constant buzzing in my ears, and someone forgetting to bring the coffee I was awake fairly early. Early enough for a nice sunrise shot looking over the rolling countryside, Lago Gatun and the Panama Canal on the horizon, and a perfectly timed buzzard flying into frame.
This is still one of my all-time favorite landscape photos and has been published numerous times through the Peace Corps media channels.
the harvest
This one’s a fun story. The man pictured is Celestino Vergara, an older gentleman from the community of Los Asientos, Panama, a coastal town in the Azuero peninsula. “Celi” as many referred to him as was quite the character, he had a stronger accent and used plenty of words (many inappropriate ones) that I didn’t immediately recognize, so it was no wonder when I continued to nod pretending to understand that it got me into some interesting predicaments.
Around August of 2018 I arrived in the new town, emerging from the back row and worst seat of the large white passenger van with my duffle bags and camera cases in tow. I landed at the intersection of a myriad of interlocking roads and in front of the sports plaza. Kids were playing soccer beneath the tin roof of the sport complex and two men sat diligently sifting through a pile of dried herbs.
With hours to spare and curiosity getting the best of me I went over and started up a conversation with the father and son. I came to realize the herbs were in fact tobacco, which while growing up in Piedmont of North Carolina I had never actually seen the raw product. After some time chatting, I finally brought out the camera and began snapping away. Celi grinning as he taught me about his farm and parcel down the road, all the native crops, and posing with his bundle of tobacco in hand. It was here where I first learned how to smoke tobacco out of a pipe, a fond memory but one I don’t plan on doing again.
At the close of the training while waiting for the passenger van to arrive Celi’s son brought me a hand carved pipe that he whittled away throughout the week. A pipe with the seedpod from one of the native Palm trees and some type of dark wood. It was a neat parting gift, but I would see them both on occasions for the remainder of my time in Panama.
the indigenous girl
For anybody who’s looking to travel to Panama during the month of November I can’t emphasize enough for them to plan in some buffer time for travel especially if they are relying on local transportation. Throughout that month, Panama celebrates numerous holidays including multiple independence days, flag day, and various other regional and cultural events around the country. Quite often we as volunteers knew better than to attempt commuting during these days or else plan on spending several hours waiting at the empty bus stop.
This photo was taken during the Separation from Colombia Day around 2019 near Macaracas de Los Santos. November 3rd serves as a reminder to commemorate Panama’s separation from Gran Colombia (Colombia, Venezuela, and Panama) and the beginning of its time aligned with the United States of America while construction was underway to build the canal. While visiting a fellow volunteer’s community to photo document the festivities and work taking place with her environmental group, I ended up spending a fair amount of time at the school.
Through my work as a multimedia specialist with Peace Corps Response I routinely had the opportunities to assist neighboring volunteers and their communities with media support. During a break in the action, I recall vividly this interaction where a mother had asked me to photograph her eldest son. As I wrapped up taking the boy’s photo and turned back to the mother, I noticed this young girl clutching her flowing green gown and peering inquisitively at the camera. I snapped away a few photos before she disappeared, tucking her face in the flowing green Nagwah (traditional dress of the Ngöbe women).
Several months later Sara, the volunteer in that site would deliver multiple laminated prints to this family and dozens of other community members around her site. Anytime I received a request to take photos I wanted to try my best to get the image into their hands sooner or later.
la junta embarra
The Junta Embarra or Embarre is a Panamanian tradition typically following a marriage in which the men of the community construct a house from mud, clay, hay, bamboo, and palm leaves. Spanning several days, this cultural experience is truly an amazing time and one I would recommend if you really want to experience all that Panama has to offer. Nowadays the new couple likely won’t call the new structure their abode, but it serves rather as a cultural tradition and opportunity for comradery among neighbors.
The above image was one of a father rinsing off his young child in a drum of muddied water. A crowd in the background cheers as men mash and stomp the clay mixture beneath their feet. Participants collecting scoops of the clay mixture and delivering it to the crew of builders stationed nearby and fitting it into place. The entire experience really is a show of teamwork with all involved hurriedly working away in some capacity.
If I learned anything from experiences like these it would be that you can’t sit idly on the sidelines. You really have to get out of your comfort zone and take some risks. If that means spending hours cleaning mud from cameras, some of which is still on my 24-105mm lens…I think I can manage.
the hunt for the harpy
Through my work with the Environmental Leadership and Training Initiative (ELTI) I had the chance to meet some amazing people and collaborate with awesome organizations. Between photo documenting students from Yale School of the Environment, interviewing international participants with the World Wildlife Fund, or providing photography basics courses to indigenous farmers with the Peregrine Fund, there was always something to do.
One of the people I met during my time as a multimedia specialist was José de Jesús Vargas González, a Panamanian biologist from the Peregrine Fund working with the conservation of the Harpy Eagle (Harpia harpyja) deep in the jungles of the Darien Gap. The national bird of Panama, the Harpy Eagle is considered one of the most powerful and largest species of raptors globally. With a wingspan reaching 6.5 feet (2 meters) and claws on par with a grizzly bear it’s one species that you wouldn’t want to pester.
After years of living in Panama and finally having some confidence in my Spanish language I began planning and coordinating with José to go explore the Darien Gap. A hostile and inhospitable area, the Darien Gap buts up against the Colombian border and would prove a real obstacle to challenge. Between the eight-hour cross country commute, boat motors breaking down, crocodile infested waters, constant fear of Colombian cartel, we were always on edge.
We (Austin, Bill, and I) arrived in the community sometime after midnight, a prepared dinner of lukewarm deep-fried goods enjoyed in the light of our headlamps as mosquitoes nipped at our necks. Our bunks (wooden boards) elevated on open air platform with a log notched with steps to serve as our ladder. While I had lived in a community for several years without electricity, La Marea was darker than it had been up to that point.
The image above was one of the final outcomes from our expedition to the Darien Gap. A juvenile Harpy Eagle curiously inspecting the crew of four and cameras. Scouting out the nest from a nearby mountainside, it wasn’t until we paused to rest on the forest floor that we noticed it had found us. Flying quietly to the canopy above our heads.