Category: Photography
Open Happiness
Life, Death, and Varanasi.
Farewell ritual for deceased relatives about to be cremated. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
I barely remember taking this photo. Not because it was a long time ago, as it’s been less than two years, but because it feels as if it was taken in a different lifetime. The overwhelmingly spiritual athmosphere in Varanasi absorbed me completely and guided me into a state of awe and self reflection. It’s not an easy place to spend time in, and many leave after just two days. For me, it gradually became the most beautiful place in India, and if you are open to letting go of your values and norms for a moment and allow reality, life and death to happen before your eyes, this place will show you that there can be a perfect harmony between them.
It’s hard to face, but by talking to locals who see funeral processions every day, families who have travelled for days just to allow their relative to pass away and be cremated in what for them is the most holy of places, and children who play next to the place where the dead one’s are being burnt before finally ending up in the Ganges river, you are forced to let go of whatever fear you might feel towards death. It is nothing but a natural part of life here, and while it happens, groceries need to be brought home, homework has to be done, and reality has to continue.
There is an omnipresent smoke rising to the sky in Varanasi, and while it tells the stories of deceased relatives and friends, the sun rises just like in any other place. And when it is about to go down again, the rooftops all over the city fill up with children running their kites as high up as possible. Because that’s what matters most to them – joy, love and play.
Children on their way back from school. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Young woman carrying groceries. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Boy with a tilaka mark. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Morning prayer by the Ganges. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Children taking care of the family shop. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Men smoking chillum. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Man preparing tobacco holders. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Kites and peace over the holy city. Varanasi, India. October 2010.
Avenue
Bushfire festival 2012
So we spent our weekend in a magical place where anybody, no matter the age, hairstyle or social group, was invited to dance. I spoke to rasta men, American “Oh no he didn’t!” teenagers and UN ladies while brushing my teeth outside of the camping showers, and we had all been just as cold during the night. The second night Anna and I discovered that the sleeping bags could be zipped together into one huge sleeping bag, which made it much warmer – so happily I didn’t have to get up at 6am just to stand by the fireplace to warm up.
We ate amazing vegan karma food, had Savannas, watched enormous Mozambican puppets, looked for lost friends, sang along to wonderful Ayo’s medley of songs, sat in the sun, spoke to random people, did some market shopping, and danced – a lot. And I took photos. And at some times, I was doing all of that alone – because Anna was sleeping. She sleeps slightly more than normal I would say, and I have the issue that I sleep far less than I’m supposed to – so there was quite a big gap in between our sleeping hours. I didn’t mind as it gave me time to walk around and contemplate. But I still made a “Sleepy Anna” meme for her. Just because she’s the best, and because it’s hilarious.
Oh, and 3g roaming? Ha, I wish! My network provider (Vodacom) doesn’t even have a deal with Swaziland, so I didn’t even have normal reception. But hey – I was fine anyway. See? I’m not completely addicted to my phone. (If I get to dance instead, that is.)
Anyway, here are some glimpses from the festival. You can see many more here. Let me know what you think in the comments section below. I get really happy when you write little comments, it reminds me that you actually visit this space and that it’s not just my slightly weird diary. Enjoy!
Rekindle
Xipamanine & Chopal
Yesterday, we got picked up by Ericka and her brother to visit the Xipamanine market where you can buy anything from shoes and second hand underwear to vegetables and.. anything. We spent the rest of the day in their house in 25 de Junho district, also called Chopal. We cooked, took a walk around the area, visited the local bakery, bought drinks from a prom queen, and watched a strange Brazilian tv show.. as the evening came, we squeezed in to a chapa and headed back to Maputo. The colourful day gave me not only some good deals but also a couple of really nice shots. And two videos. Enjoy!
puppy
Namibia part 3 – Take me to the cats.
As I already told you, there were two things I wanted to do in Namibia. See the red dunes in the Namib desert. And see some wild cats. So with only a few days left of my two week easter trip, I made some research and found a place called N/a’an ku sê Foundation which is just about 50km from Windhoek. It is a wildlife foundation with a game park, lodges, and various kinds of wild animals that have been found either hurt or abandoned, and that the foundation now takes care of. Some of these being lions, leopards and cheetahs – I had found my place and booked a “feeding tour” for only 25€.
I had seen lions before, but not his close, and not this angry. There was a fence separating us from the animals, but there were little children in the jeep I was with, so the lions got their hopes up. The guide fed them by throwing meat over the fence and the jumps were impressive. I guess they actually could have jumped those fences if they wanted to. The ladies were the hunters, as we all know, but it was interesting to see how the lion actually was dominating the two females completely. He was in charge, no doubt. And he was a quite upset king.
When we got to the cheetahs, I was in awe.. apparently, once you tame a cheetah – they stay tame forever. These huge and gracious creatures were sweet as kittens and even made the kind of “mjau” sounds we all know. I asked if I was allowed to touch them. “At your own risk” the guide said, while patting one himself. So I put my hand through the fence and a cheetah walked up. It looked at me and then stroked its head against my hand, and licked it. The tongue felt kind of like the tongue of a cat, only even more rough. The feeling was overwhelming.
We continued to the leopards, which, as the guide told us, unlike the cheetahs – never can be tamed. These are the animals that unconditionally will rip your face right off. The guide didn’t have to explain that to us again when we got to see them, it was actually really uncomfortable being close to these demon looking animals, despite the fence. The were projecting the kind of “I can see right through you, you bad human, and I shall cut your throat and drink your blood while you sleep.” message that you sometimes get from evil house cats. Difference was these kittens had slightly bigger fangs. Let’s just say that leopards don’t seem particularly friendly.
On our way back to Windhoek, we met a man that was taming a wild horse, and found a really nice tree. It had been the prefect last day in Namibia, and I was driving, of course.
Namibia part 2 – Faces of Katutura
Back in Windhoek, I met up with Baldwin again the next day and asked him to show me something than I had not already seen, so he took me to the Katutura township in the outskirts of the city.
Katutura, “The place where we don’t want to live” was created in the late 1950’s following the forced removal of all black people from Windhoek city centre. Today, Katutura houses more than 2/3 of Windhoeks total population and the people live in metal sheds that they sometimes use as shops, bars and hair salons during the day. But despite suffering from overpopulation, obvious sanitation issues and difficult access to clean water and electricity, the very poor township felt like a safe and extremely friendly place.
I spent some time in the Havana district where I met 17 year old Rejoice with the amazing smile, who had just painted her face red. Painting the face is a Himba tradition to protect it from the sun and give it a beautiful red nuance. Rejoice was shy, but her mother an I laughed it off. Oh, and the little boy on her back was not her son, it was her little brother.
We drove around the township and met a big group of playing kids. Later, I spent some time in a hair salon where Cornelia was getting her hair braided while her little girl Respect was running around. She wasn’t sure about the age of her child, but said she thinks she’s around 2 years old.
The people I met in Katutura were a little shy, but very keen to talk and interact, and really friendly. The obvious contrast to the sparkling city centre of Windhoek made a big impression on me. One needs to go a bit outside in order to understand what Namibia is all about.
