The Americans | Episode 6: Savannah | Robin de Puy

From the interstate, I see a dilapidated, yellow motel flash by on my right. I don't really feel like stopping, but the fear of missing out takes over. When I park my car a little later, I spot a pregnant girl hanging in the doorway of her room in the distance. I try to remember her room number, but - unsurprisingly - end up standing in front of the wrong door. Instead of the expected pregnant teenager, a very skinny man opens the door. "Come in." He moves slowly, and I'm surprised he can still walk.

John 

Discreetly, I try to sit on an open plastic bag so that my bare legs don't touch the chair's grubby seat. I’m embarrassed by my behavior, and as a compromise, I smile particularly kindly at the man. His name is John. By now, he - like many others - has been living here for a few years, waiting for a better life. "Do you happen to know if a pregnant girl lives here?" I ask him. "Two doors down." Everyone knows everybody. Motels here are like villages.

Girl located.

Savannah (18) has been living in this room with her two siblings, father, boyfriend, two dogs, and a lizard-like animal for two years. Before this, they did motel-hopping, and before that, they lived in a car.

"How did you guys end up in this situation?" I ask them.

The stories that follow are not only too big for a few small paragraphs, but certainly for the short lives of these young people. There is much suffering to be found in this 12m2 motel room. From being born into addiction, to maternal death from diabetes. From not wanting to live to not being able to live the way you want. From a kid having a kid to a dad wanting to die. 

In the evening, Savannah asks if I want to photograph her in the bathtub. The bathroom walls are clammy. The bathtub rim is slippery. I stand on my toes and press my buttocks firmly against the wall, hoping my feet won't show in the frame below me. Savannah is floating in the water calmly and seemingly carefree. Her self-made pink dress clings to her porcelain skin. The sharp nails surround what she holds dear. "I am terrified, but everything will be okay."