They have seen the layers of waiting accumulate. Their own, when they were on the road, then those of other migrants, as they served food at distribution points, and as they guided them, in turn, for part of the journey through the jungle. In Acandí, the categories of migrant, humanitarian actor, and guide sometimes blur.
Waiting is also about speculation, drifting off in thought. We tell ourselves we’d rather be somewhere else than standing in line. Fishing, for example — yes, going fishing would be nice.
Some afternoons stretched around the main albergue (settlement) and outside medical centers. Endurance is required to get a consultation when you don’t have the right status. Sometimes, this leads to absurd situations, like giving birth in a hallway.
Stolen Time
Migrating takes time. Time to pack, to walk, to wait. Just a few months ago, the shelters and peers of the Darién region (at the border between Colombia and Panama) were packed to the brim; a last wait before crossing the jungle. Now, those infrastructures stand empty; as a result of strict border controls and forced returns by US and Panama administrations. All the time invested is erased. Back to square one: it is stolen time. A four-day workshop was organized with Venezuelan women and girls to create masks that tell intimate stories of waiting. We strike the pose/pause in these deserted spaces. Each time the hair becomes more ruffled from putting on and swapping the masks. And with that, we also ruffle time.
My thanks to the Venezuelan community of Acandí, as well as to the Soli Foundation, the Swiss National Science Foundation (SNSF), and HUD for making this project possible.
Title of the photo series inspired by Khosravi’s work on time politics in deportation contexts, see Khosravi, Shahram, ed. Waiting - a Project in Conversation. Culture & Theory, Volume 243. Transcript, 2021.
See the corresponding interview here, in the context of the Geneva Graduate Institute Photo Research Competition.