• 50 hours until home: Chinese couple join world's biggest migration

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Li Anhua and his wife Shi Huaju wait for a taxi as they embark on the first stage of a 50-hour journey home, in Shanghai on Jan. 27, 2013.

    Like millions of migrant workers in China, Li Anhua and his wife Shi Huaju make the annual trek home for the Chinese Spring Festival, travelling for 50 hours by train and bus to see their two children after a long year of separation. Reuters photographer Carlos Barria, who accompanied the couple on the journey this year, takes up the story:

    There was not much emotion left after crossing central China on a 50-hour train and bus journey. Just a soft touch on the face and a forced hug was all that Li Jiangzhon and his sister Li Jiangchun got from their parents after a long year of absence.

    They are just one story among millions of Chinese migrant workers who have left their loved ones behind to look for a better future for themselves and their families.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Li Anhua smokes a cigarette in the couple's cramped room in Shanghai as he packs for his Spring Festival trip on Jan. 27, 2013.

    Every year millions of migrant workers travel to their hometowns during the Spring Festival, a massive movement of people that is considered the biggest migration in the world in such a short period of time. Public transportation authorities expect to accommodate about 3.41 billion travelers nationwide during the holiday, including 225 million railway passengers, according to Xinhua news agency.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Li Anhua (2nd L) and Shi Huaju (C) wait in line at a train station gate in Shanghai on Jan. 28, 2013.

    They left their home on a cold Sunday night. Ahead of them: 50 hours of hard traveling conditions and cold, followed by the reward of spending 30 days with their children. Li and Shi have been doing this trip every year for the last twelve years, following the birth of their son Li Jiangzhon. Back then, the couple decided to leave the boy with Li Anhua’s mother in a rural village in Sichuan province, around 1,200 miles to the west.

    Preparation for the trip began early this year. They managed to buy their train tickets online (116 CNY each, or about $19), which saved them the headache of fighting for a place in hours-long lines, as in previous years, among a swarm of workers and bulky packages.

    They got good seats: a place for each of them, which is considered very lucky. Many migrants can’t get a seat on the train and have to travel standing or curled up in any free space they can find.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Shi Huaju leans on her husband as they travel on board a train from Shanghai on Jan. 28, 2013.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Migrant workers play cards as they travel on a train near Huaihua, in Hunan province, on Jan. 28, 2013.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Li Anhua stands next to his food cart as a student eats dinner in a suburban area of Shanghai on Nov. 26, 2012.

    Li and Shi met twelve years ago, after they migrated to Shanghai and took their place among the millions of Chinese migrant workers that play a key role in today’s second largest economy. After working for a few months in a restaurant, they decided to work together as street food vendors in the suburbs of Shanghai. Every day, they push a wooden cart with two wheels to street corners where students from a local university buy their food.

    Life is hard on their combined monthly income of 2000 CNY ($320) — just enough to send a little money home and for them to rent a room just three meters by three meters in an old apartment far from the city center. Shanghai is one of the most expensive cities in China.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Shi Huaju reads a text message on her mobile phone as she boards a bus for the next stage of her journey, in Chongqing on Jan. 29, 2013.

    After the long train ride and a three-hour bus journey, the couple picked up a taxi in Luzhou and started the final 30-minute leg of their trip. At a dark intersection on a dirt road, the taxi suddenly stopped. Li looked around but he couldn't remember the way to their house. He couldn't recognize the way with all the new construction around. He said, "This factory area was not here last year." Finally a small sign indicated the road to Dayan village.

    As the taxi stopped in front of a three-story building a little girl screamed, “mammy, mammy,” and the couple got out of the car. For her and her brother, their most cherished present of this Chinese New Year had arrived.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Li Anhua hugs his daughter Li Jiangchun as he and Shi Huaju arrive at their home town of Dayan, Sichuan province, on Jan. 29, 2013.

    See more pictures of the journey in a post on Reuters' Photographers Blog and more stories by Carlos Barria on PhotoBlog.

  • Photographer visits North Korea with Polaroid camera, gives back

    By Carlos Barria of Reuters:  I never imagined that a simple image on a piece of paper could have the power to transform someone’s suspicious look into an expression of surprise — the kind of surprise you might see on a child’s face as they watch their first magic trick.

    But I saw this transformation a week ago, when I joined a group of journalists on a trip to North Korea. I brought a Polaroid camera along with the idea of taking a few portraits. I wanted to be able to offer these portraits to the subjects themselves.

    I’ve always liked the idea of trading something with the subject of a photograph. I take his or her picture, or image, and in some circumstances, it seems appropriate to give something back. I can’t pay them, so ideally I send them a copy of the picture by email.

    Knowing North Koreans have little access to the Internet, I brought a Polaroid camera instead. When I used it to take portrait pictures, I took two snaps. Then I gave one Polaroid to the person in the picture, and I kept the second for myself; one copy for them, one copy for me.

    But, I didn’t count on the incredible expressions that would come over North Koreans’ faces as they watched the Polaroids slowly emerge.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Local workers rest before the departure ceremony of a cruise ship with visitors at the port of the North Korean special economic zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang August 30, 2011.

    In a port where we boarded a cruise ship, I saw a group of local workers taking a break. I walked over to them with my cameras and they looked at me as if I were an alien. I took two Polaroids of the group of workers; one for them and one for me. I gave them the Polaroid but they couldn’t figure out what it was right away. Then I took it back and pretended to do a little magic on the paper. The image started to emerge. All their faces cracked into astonished smiles. Before I could get their names, their boss waved all the workers away. He apparently didn’t want me to talk to them.

     

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Pakn Okn Hai, 28, poses for a portrait inside a food-gift shop near the North Korean Special Economic Zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang, August 29, 2011.

    Walking out of a restaurant, I saw 28-year-old Pakn Okn Hai, standing in silence behind the counter of a sparse gift shop. With very primitive gestures (I don’t speak Korean) I asked her if it would be possible to shoot a picture of her and she accepted. I gave her the Polaroid, which usually takes 20 seconds to reveal an image. As her portrait was appearing she opened her mouth in surprise and then she gave me a big smile.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Pakn Okn Hai, 28, poses with a portrait Polaroid of herself inside a food-gift shop near the North Korean Special Economic Zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang August 29, 2011.

    Later, when I asked through an interpreter if she’d ever had a picture of herself, she said, “No, I have never had a picture of myself”.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Ko Un Byol, 22, poses for a portrait next to a painting of North Korean leader Kim Jong-il at a local auditorium in the North Korean Special Economic Zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang, August 29, 2011.

    Ko Un Byol, 22-years-old, worked as a hostess at the local auditorium in Rason City. She wore a beautiful, traditional red dress and I photographed her in front of a painting of North Korean leader Kim Jong-il. When I asked her through a translator if she had ever had a picture of herself she answered, “Visitors take pictures of me all the time, but I have never had a picture of myself”.

    Reuters

    Ko Un Byol (R), 22, looks at a polaroid taken by Reuters photographer Carlos Barria at a local auditorium in the North Korean Special Economic Zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang August 29, 2011.

    When I was shooting this portrait a government minder approached and told me that if I wanted to photograph the Great Leader, I would have to shoot it from further away, since it is “disrespectful” to take a picture of him without fitting his full image in the frame. He didn’t mention the woman I was actually photographing.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    A polaroid picture of Ko Un Byol (L), 22, and Reuters photographer Carlos Barria is seen at a local auditorium in the North Korean Special Economic Zone of Rason City, northeast of Pyongyang August 29, 2011.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    A hotel porter poses for a portrait in front of a painting of North Korean leaders Kim Il-sung and his son Kim Jong-il in Mount Kumgang resort in Kumgang August 31, 2011.

    I was photographing a portrait of Kim Il-sung and his son Kim Jong-il when a hotel porter approached to correct me about taking a proper picture of North Korean leaders. He said I had to shoot the picture from directly in front of the portrait; another rule, I suppose, that governs how North Koreans should behave around images of their leader. Then he offered to take a picture of me.

    Reuters

    Reuters photographer Carlos Barria poses for a picture taken by a hotel porter in front of a painting of North Korean leaders Kim Il-sung and his son Kim Jong-il in Mount Kumgang resort in Kumgang August 31, 2011.

    I accepted, and I asked if I could take his portrait picture. He said yes, and I gave him a copy.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Hotel staff pose for a portrait in Mount Kumgang resort in Kumgang August 31, 2011.

    Two cleaning ladies at the hotel in Kumgang were very curious about my colleague Ng Han Guan, from the Associated Press, as he edited pictures on his laptop in the lobby. I rushed to my room to get my camera and capture them. I shot their portrait three times; one Polaroid for each of them and one for me. They posed standing, and then they asked me for another shot, so I took another. This time they were more relaxed and more natural.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Hotel staff pose for a portrait in Mount Kumgang resort in Kumgang August 31, 2011.

    I felt they were enjoying the moment. They were happy to have the photographs, in the same way photography makes me happy.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    Local residents wave as a cruise ship with visitors leaves the port in the North Korean special economic zone of Rason, located northeast of Pyongyang August 30, 2011.

    Before boarding our cruise ship, I photographed a group of young residents who were brought by local authorities for a departure ceremony. I photographed the group and gave a Polaroid to someone in the front row. As the ship left the port, I saw them circulating the picture among themselves, so everyone could see it at least once.

     

  • Two faces of the same drama - Carlos Barria on covering the Haiti earthquake and the crisis in Japan

    (Left) A fisherman reacts as he looks at his boat, which was destroyed by March 11's magnitude 9.0 earthquake and tsunami, in Yamada town, Iwate prefecture on March 27. (Right) A woman cries as she walks along a street in downtown Port-au-Prince, Haiti January 27, 2010.

    By John Makely, NBC News

    Carlos Barria is a Reuters staff photographer based in Shanghai, China. He has covered breaking news, sports and features in the Americas, the Middle East, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Barria's recent work in Japan following the March 11 earthquake and tsunami caused him to reflect on the similarities of the disaster in Haiti in 2010.

    Barria writes:

    "A year ago, I was part of the Reuters team that covered Haiti’s massive earthquake, which claimed some 250,000 lives, and left a million people living in makeshift camps. This year, I was part of the team that covered another natural disaster– the March 11 earthquake and tsunami that devastated Japan’s northern coast and brought on a nuclear crisis.

    The two events were very different. They occurred on opposite sides of the globe, in completely different countries, in different cultural contexts. Haiti is the poorest country in the western hemisphere, with a turbulent political history. On the other hand, Japan is one of the richest and most modern countries in the world– the third largest economy and, actually, one of the first to send help to Haiti.

    But in covering these two catastrophes, I was struck by a few similarities.

    Walking through the rubble of Kessenuma, in Japan, looking for a way to convey the scale of the destruction, I found myself almost in a situation like one year ago in Haiti."

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    (Left) A refugee sleeps at a relief center in Minamisanriku town, Miyagi prefecture, March 22.
    (Right) A woman sits at her tent at a makeshift camp in Port-au-Prince, Haiti January 26, 2010.

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    (Left) A woman reacts while using a mobile phone as she looks at her house destroyed by the earthquake and tsunami in Kessenuma town, in Miyagi prefecture on March 28.
    (Right) A man wipes sweat from his forehead as he walks along a destroyed street after the earthquake in Port-au-Prince, January 15, 2010.

    "There was a woman alone, who paused and stood still, looking at the remains of her house. I had a flash back to a man I had photographed walking alone in the devastated Haitian capital of Port-au-Prince."

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    (Top) A woman waits in line during a food distribution effort at an area destroyed by the March 11 earthquake and tsunami in Ishinomaki, northern Japan on April 3.(Bottom) A woman raises her arms for products from a destroyed shop after the earthquake in Port-au-Prince, January 16, 2010.

     "No matter what the differences are between countries and cultures, at the end of the day I felt I was watching people suffer in the same way."

    Carlos Barria / Reuters

    (Left) Family members of victims of the magnitude 9.0 earthquake and tsunami cry next to coffins of their relatives during a mass funeral in Kassenuma town, Miyagi prefecture on March 26. Ten flimsy wood coffins were laid on two sturdy rails at a hastily prepared cemetery of mostly mud as Keseunnuma began burying its dead from the tsunami that ripped apart the Japanese coastal city. (Right) A woman cries during a memorial ceremony at a mass grave in Titanyn, outside of Port au Prince, February 1, 2010.

    For more images from the ongoing crisis in Japan click here.

    Too see more posts about the behind-the-scenes experiences of Reuters photographers click here.