OUT OF EDEN WALK

Catherine Lal is an orphan.

At the age of just four months, she was dropped at the gates of the Good Shepherd Agricultural Mission, a large orphanage in the north of India, not far from the Nepal border. Her parents and extended family are unknown to this day.

In a country with an estimated 22 million orphans, this is not an unusually tragic beginning—but Catherine’s story has proved to be more tragic than most. At the age of 13, she had four of her fingers torn off in a farming equipment accident, leaving her with a thumb and a soft fleshy knob on her right hand. “No man will want you now,” she’s been told by cruel peers, and these words still echo in her heart.

Years later as a young adult when she briefly left the mission, there was more violence waiting for her in Delhi, leaving less visible but far more lasting scars. There is no need to relive the details here, but Catherine relives them regularly, in dreams that still haunt her sleep.

“Sometimes I wonder if I am cursed,” Cathy, now 26, says. “Or a mistake of some kind.” Raised Christian, she prays for peace but finds no comfort. “I feel I have no future,” she confided in a recent text message to a friend. “Maybe I am not meant for this world.”

But then…

Catherine’s own journey intersected with Paul Salopek’s Out of Eden Walk in mid-March when Paul helped lead a National Geographic Photo Camp that she attended. It was the first camp to focus on both writing as well as photography, and it was also the first camp to be held at an orphanage.

Photo Camp Director Kirsten Elstner—a veteran of 81 camps in more than 20 countries—brought her unique five-day workshop to help the mission kids tell their own stories and find their own voices. Having Paul on her team was a huge asset. “His method of teaching was an inspiration to the students,” she said. “It just meant so much to have a role model for them who is so clearly passionate about his work, and on an epic journey—walking around the planet and writing! The kids were mesmerized.”

Twenty students took part in the program, crafting stories that ranged from gritty tales of nearby village life, to playful portraits of friends. The photography produced was part brilliant, part practice—but no one was more inspired than Catherine. Paul spent the most time with her.

“It was a very moving experience for me to mentor a student like Cathy,” Paul said. “She was absolutely serious about the craft. She turned in four drafts, working as hard on her essay as I do on my own pieces. But more than that, she has powerful stories to tell—rich, nuanced, personal stories that are often simplified or flattened by outsiders such as myself.”

Paul’s efforts certainly did not go unnoticed by his star student, and when asked, Catherine jumped at the chance to praise him. “Uncle Paul has been the best teacher I’ve had in my entire life,” she said without hesitation. “I was so overjoyed! I knew for the first time I was good at something.” But there was more than just teaching going on. “The best part of this workshop,” Cathy explained, “is when Uncle Paul believed in me. He took me so seriously that I thought: I really have something in me.”

In a beautiful piling on of support, Kirsten felt drawn to Catherine as well. She coached her photography during class hours, but then she sat and listened to her personal story, a painful history Catherine has only recently begun to share. “We’d meet in the mornings to walk around the farm,” Kirsten recalled, “and in a short time, we developed a friendship that I’m committed to maintaining.”

Imaginary curses have a way of melting in the warm glow of this kind of attention.

On the last night of the workshop, after the best work had been exhibited to a packed church house crowd, the children were called up to receive their certificates. When they did, they were also handed a microphone should a short speech need reciting. There were tears and wild applause and a pride so palpable the room was positively buzzing.

Then Catherine’s name was called.

She walked up slowly, obviously emotional. She pulled her Photo Camp cap low to cover her eyes as she hugged the team, hugged Paul, hugged Kirsten, then accepted the mic.

She didn’t say a word for one long beat that stretched into another and another. Then she shifted the microphone to her damaged right hand and fished in her pocket with her left, pulling out a small piece of paper that she slowly unfolded. She had a few prepared thoughts.

“I was always confused about who I want to be,” she began, her voice trembling, her notes trembling too. “I didn’t really talk much about my future. But after this workshop, I can confidently say I want to be a writer.” She paused and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then finished strong. “Thank you Uncle Paul and Auntie Kirsten. You helped me find what I could not find for myself.”

The Out of Eden Walk and the NatGeo Photo Camps have taken Paul Salopek and Kirsten Elstner around the world, offering their slow connections to those who are lucky enough to cross their paths. The fact that these two big-hearted forces for good converged on the life of Catherine Lal feels like more than a coincidence.

It feels a little bit like a prayer that is finally being answered.

John Marshall is the author of Wide-Open World, a memoir about the six months he and his family volunteered their way around the globe. After a long career in television, John now advocates for orphaned children worldwide and recently assisted Paul Salopek as part of the writing team for the NatGeo Photo Camp mentioned in this story. www.johnmarshall.com