Visual solidarity

The whole idea began in Germany, with a group of six eye doctors who worked together at the time. One of them went to Cambodia for a holiday – and was amazed by the poverty and lack of support for most of the population. He made a few local contacts, and later returned with the desire to help. A. Rahmani recalls that he listened carefully to the experiences of his colleague. He liked the idea of the project straight away, particularly as it offered so many challenges - the greatest of which were the high logistical costs involved.

“Yes, the first thing we did was get the money together for the journey”, he tells. “We didn’t just need to take glasses, lenses and frames – but also all the equipment needed for eye-testing and identifying people’s particular problems.”

In the middle of 2001, the six friends boarded a plane together bound for Asia. They had with them more than 10.000 pairs of classes of all different types: old and new – some were leftovers from collections that had never sold; there were out-moded frames that no-one wanted in a rapidly developing, always demanding Europe. They also took with them some money to buy any extra lenses that might be necessary. In all, the cargo weighed more than two tons!

The first hurdle was Cambodian Customs. “The first time we went was really difficult. The authorities didn’t know us – and it took a long time for our passports, visas and licences to be all in order”, he recalls. A bureaucratic nightmare that, these days, has become much easier to deal with.

So, what happened next?

During years and years of conflicts and war, the country filled with dense tropical forest wasn’t easy to travel through. The principal objective of Rahmani and his colleagues is to reach inland villages – where people most lack support and aid.

But it’s also very inadvisable for foreigners and tourists to travel to these distant places – due principally to the large number of landmines scattered throughout the forests and countryside.

“We meet some people who speak German. We pay them to be our guides and translators”, he explains. During the next two and a half months, there was no time to lose. Sometimes, the roads are so bad and remote that trucks loaded with optical equipment can take eight hours or more to reach the next village. “We never stay in a hotel. We live in the vehicles. It has to be that way – to reach people.”

As soon as they arrive at a village, they set up their equipment. “We once had a child who needed 8.0 lenses! That’s an enormous strength. He really couldn’t see what was in front of his feet. We had to get the lenses made in the nearest town as we didn’t have any in that strength in stock. But, in the end – you just can’t imagine. His parents were crying with joy! These are people with nothing – yet still willing to give us everything,” he recalls. “Those sort of people really touch one’s heart.”

Of course, the initial objective of making a trip out to Cambodia every year revealed itself to be impossible. The costs of this first expedition were so high that the six colleagues actually thought of giving up. “It’s true! But the satisfaction of giving and helping the people we met made us realise it was worth going on. Some NGOs have shown interest in getting involved in the project, but, for the moment, we don’t want to work with anyone else. It would be too awful if the material simply didn’t arrive at its destination.” The optometrist and his colleagues don’t want to risk losing control over the glasses’ transportation and arrival. “So, we will only to make the trips when we have enough material of good enough quality,” he explains. Now, they’ve already started getting volunteers ready for the next trip – scheduled for 2012.

Since moving to live in the Algarve (he has a Portuguese wife), Rahmani has only been able to amass around 2.000 pairs of glasses. “Here, it’s a lot more difficult. The Portuguese mentality is different. People don’t seem to want to give away things like glasses.”

Signs of an ungenerous society? “No, it’s not that. I think the problem is that the majority of people don’t realise that glasses that are no use to them anymore could be useful to others”, he plays down any criticism. “I think countries like Germany are already more conscious of this fact – and a lot of people hand glasses in at opticians, intending for them to be given away to others.”

But there could also be another reason, aside from ignorance. Could it be that the Portuguese think their glasses may be ‘sold on’ again? “I don’t know. Really I don’t, but I don’t think so. I’ve spoken to a lot of people – and what I see are that very few people know that we’re doing this humanitarian work.”

Perhaps because it is a private initiative and, as such, relatively small, Rahmani and his colleagues haven’t gone in for a lot of publicity. The information circulates via word-of- mouth, slowly – but is increasingly more far-reaching. “Lately, I’ve received calls from all over Portugal. People get in touch asking how they can send things to me. There’s a school in Lisbon that is gathering together a whole bunch of material to send”, he adds. “Other people want to send money – but this we won’t accept. We prefer to pay for costs ourselves – because this is something we really want to do”, he insists.

“We’re simply asking people to hand in their old glasses – even if they are broken.” After work, in his free time, Rahmani dedicates himself to cleaning, organising and taking a painstaking inventory of everything that he receives.

The last question has to be – what is his motivation?

“Things that for us have no value can have enormous importance in Cambodia. There, no-one is concerned with the colour or style or make of their glasses. Just to be able to see better is a wonderful joy. And, more than this, I believe that it is important that we learn how to share.”

filled with dense tropical forest wasn’t easy to travel through. The principal objective of Rahmani and his colleagues is to reach inland villages – where people most lack support and aid.

But it’s also very inadvisable for foreigners and tourists to travel to these distant places – due principally to the large number of landmines scattered throughout the forests and countryside.

“We meet some people who speak German. We pay them to be our guides and translators”, he explains. During the next two and a half months, there was no time to lose. Sometimes, the roads are so bad and remote that trucks loaded with optical equipment can take eight hours or more to reach the next village. “We never stay in a hotel. We live in the vehicles. It has to be that way – to reach people.”

As soon as they arrive at a village, they set up their equipment. “We once had a child who needed 8.0 lenses! That’s an enormous strength. He really couldn’t see what was in front of his feet. We had to get the lenses made in the nearest town as we didn’t have any in that strength in stock. But, in the end – you just can’t imagine. His parents were crying with joy! These are people with nothing – yet still willing to give us everything,” he recalls. “Those sort of people really touch one’s heart.”

Of course, the initial objective of making a trip out to Cambodia every year revealed itself to be impossible. The costs of this first expedition were so high that the six colleagues actually thought of giving up. “It’s true! But the satisfaction of giving and helping the people we met made us realise it was worth going on. Some NGOs have shown interest in getting involved in the project, but, for the moment, we don’t want to work with anyone else. It would be too awful if the material simply didn’t arrive at its destination.” The optometrist and his colleagues don’t want to risk losing control over the glasses’ transportation and arrival. “So, we will only to make the trips when we have enough material of good enough quality,” he explains. Now, they’ve already started getting volunteers ready for the next trip – scheduled for 2012.

Since moving to live in the Algarve (he has a Portuguese wife), Rahmani has only been able to amass around 2.000 pairs of glasses. “Here, it’s a lot more difficult. The Portuguese mentality is different. People don’t seem to want to give away things like glasses.”

Signs of an ungenerous society? “No, it’s not that. I think the problem is that the majority of people don’t realise that glasses that are no use to them anymore could be useful to others”, he plays down any criticism. “I think countries like Germany are already more conscious of this fact – and a lot of people hand glasses in at opticians, intending for them to be given away to others.”

But there could also be another reason, aside from ignorance. Could it be that the Portuguese think their glasses may be ‘sold on’ again? “I don’t know. Really I don’t, but I don’t think so. I’ve spoken to a lot of people – and what I see are that very few people know that we’re doing this humanitarian work.”

Perhaps because it is a private initiative and, as such, relatively small, Rahmani and his colleagues haven’t gone in for a lot of publicity. The information circulates via word-of- mouth, slowly – but is increasingly more far-reaching. “Lately, I’ve received calls from all over Portugal. People get in touch asking how they can send things to me. There’s a school in Lisbon that is gathering together a whole bunch of material to send”, he adds. “Other people want to send money – but this we won’t accept. We prefer to pay for costs ourselves – because this is something we really want to do”, he insists.

“We’re simply asking people to hand in their old glasses – even if they are broken.” After work, in his free time, Rahmani dedicates himself to cleaning, organising and taking a painstaking inventory of everything that he receives.

The last question has to be – what is his motivation?

“Things that for us have no value can have enormous importance in Cambodia. There, no-one is concerned with the colour or style or make of their glasses. Just to be able to see better is a wonderful joy. And, more than this, I believe that it is important that we learn how to share.”