Hannah Reyes Morales Manila, Philippines
Sisters Gemma and Jojo do their make up before a night at work in Angeles City, notorious for its sex tourism. During Gemma’s first night of work, Jojo gifted her little sister pepper spray and a knife. The sisters wept. In the wake of typhoons, women and girls from climate change vulnerable areas, particularly Samar and Leyte, wind up in the sex trade after being displaced from storms. Many women are trafficked – we encountered women who were pimped out of evacuation centers, or falsely promised different work. But some women go by choice, or choose to stay after being trafficked into a line of work that is still criminalized in the Philippines, making them more susceptible to abuse. It was difficult to access at first, but eventually the women I photographed for this story treated me as an insider. My own trauma allowed me to have a greater understanding of their suffering and their survival. It was painful to tap into my own past but doing that helped me visualize their narratives and allowed me to share part of myself too. Hannah Reyes Morales / GroundTruth
Women in Angeles city, notorious for its red light district and its sex tourism industry, entertain foreign clients during the daytime. In the wake of typhoons, women and girls from climate change vulnerable areas, particularly Samar and Leyte, wind up in the sex trade after being displaced from storms. Many women are trafficked – we encountered women who were pimped out of evacuation centers, or falsely promised different work. But some women go by choice, or choose to stay after being trafficked into a line of work that is still criminalized in the Philippines, making them more susceptible to abuse. It was difficult to access at first, but eventually the women I photographed for this story treated me as an insider. My own trauma allowed me to have a greater understanding of their suffering and their survival. It was painful to tap into my own past but doing that helped me visualize their narratives and allowed me to share part of myself too. Hannah Reyes Morales / GroundTruth
A woman’s shoes are seen in a day bar in Angeles City, notorious for its red light district and sex tourism. In the wake of typhoons, women and girls from climate change vulnerable areas, particularly Samar and Leyte, wind up in the sex trade after being displaced from storms. Many women are trafficked – we encountered women who were pimped out of evacuation centers, or falsely promised different work. But some women go by choice, or choose to stay after being trafficked into a line of work that is still criminalized in the Philippines, making them more susceptible to abuse. It was difficult to access at first, but eventually the women I photographed for this story treated me as an insider. My own trauma allowed me to have a greater understanding of their suffering and their survival. It was painful to tap into my own past but doing that helped me visualize their narratives and allowed me to share part of myself too. Hannah Reyes Morales / GroundTruth
Salvaged water damaged graduation photos of Filipino sisters Jojo (left), Gemma (bottom right) and Joanne (top), in their home in the Visayas. Due to displacement from the frequency of storms, coupled with lack of work opportunities in their hometown, the sisters have all had to enter the sex trade in Angeles, known for its red light district.
Filipina sex worker Jojo and her husband dote over their new child in their home in Angeles City, notorious for its red light district. In the wake of storms many women from climate change vulnerable areas move to Angeles City to enter the sex trade after having been displaced.
Jojo smokes while waiting to be on her way to work.
Jojo’s daughter. She says she dreams that her daughter be a lawyer, so that her ‘whoring could at least have borne some fruit.’
A young girl is seen in her bed in a halfway house outside of Manila. In the wake of typhoons, women and girls from climate change vulnerable areas, particularly Samar and Leyte, wind up in the sex trade after being displaced from storms. Young girls who are rescued from sex trafficking and prostitution enter halfway houses for rehabilitation, legal counseling, and for some, schooling.
Sisters Gemma (R) and Joanne in their home in Angeles City, which is notorious for its sex industry and its red light district. Shortly after being displaced from Typhoon Ruby, Gemma followed her eldest sister Jojo to Angeles to work in the sex trade.
Jojo’s friend Rose, who works in one of the bars in Angeles city, hugs her dog. Angeles City is known as the ‘Supermarket of Sex’ in the Philippines.
Hannah Reyes Morales was born and raised in Manila. She is curious about the stories people tell themselves in the midst of adversity. This includes photographing human trafficking at sea for The New York Times, reporting on forced marriages in Cambodia for Al Jazeera America, and documenting changing indigenous cultures in the Philippines for a grant from National Geographic. Recently, through a grant from the GroundTruth Project, she documented the lives of displaced Filipina women who wound up in the sex trade after frequent typhoons.
She is part of MAPS, a collective effort proposing new ways and approaches of storytelling to address the world’s changing environment and societies. She is a recipient of a SOPA award for excellence in digital reporting for her work in the Outlaw Ocean series for The New York Times. In 2017 she received the Chris Hondros Memorial Award, and is currently part of World Press Photo’s 6×6 Program. She is based in Manila.
Hannah Reyes Morales was chosen by photographer Charmaine Poh
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
Laatikkomo’s interview with Hannah Reyes Morales February 5th, 2018.
HRM: I was born and raised in Manila City, and grew up seeing the messy parts of it. I’ve lived here for most of my life, but lived in Phnom Penh, Cambodia for three years. Manila greatly influences my work and my life. Our history is one that is largely colonial, and it manifests in our complex present. I am grappling with ideas about our identity independent of colonization while being attentive of how it is indivisible from my everyday experiences.
HRM: My very very first camera was from my grandfather – he went to America and brought home an Olympus camera for me. My mom also eventually bought me a Polaroid i-zone, which produced 1.5×1 inch instant photographs that I would adorn our room with. I still have a soft spot for tiny photographs because of that camera.
HRM: I took a workshop with Christopher Morris and he has this obsession with images that stand the test of time, or are masterpieces. I think he drove that point home to me, especially with the intimate knowledge of my own quick consumption of images. He would always ask what made some images stand the test of time, so I began to look a little closer and began to create a folder of images that to me, were timeless masterpieces. I consume images on a daily basis – I send my friends photos of where I am, I am constantly on instagram and facebook and I communicate in emoji a lot too. I am certainly of my generation. But I paid attention to the images that never left my mind, and I began looking closer. They evoked things in me and they made me feel connected somehow. There are also images that surface to me only after a second look. It is easy to be caught up in what images get more likes, but some images really stay in my heart and my mind and they make me feel things. To me this is what makes an image powerful; and this is what separates some images from others.
HRM: Absolutely. I would love to travel again, and I would love to explore other places deeply as I did in Cambodia. But for now I know this is where I need to be.
HRM: I am always interested in telling stories about how people live ‘normal’ lives amidst adversity. I heard this story about women in war asking not only for diapers for their children, but lipstick for themselves. This really struck me and made me feel so close to people so far away. So in my stories I try to make sure I include moments of life that is not so alien to a viewer, things we might be able to relate to. Small things, like laughter, or an embrace. Covering the violence and the difficulties are necessary but I believe in needing to portray how life goes on, how life is lived, and how life is survived.
HRM: survival, pain, intimacy, softness, choice