Our stateside homebase chief Alicia Conway (she keeps the site alive and running smoothly while we’re on the road) writes about the issues with “taking” photos while traveling through Mombasa. See portraits from the day in this gallery.
A few days into the trip, I was determined to get over my fear of photographing people. While this long-standing trepidation did not stem from the fact that this was my first experience in a developing country and as a true ethnic minority, these factors did help to magnify it for the first few days in Kenya.
A self-proclaimed “people day” on our second day in Mombasa resulted in what was simultaneously my best and worst photography day. I found some of my strongest photos hidden in the snaking alleyways of Mombasa’s Old Town. Much to my chagrin, I also found one of my biggest weaknesses.
The best part happened as most great moments do, without realization. I was wandering nearly by myself – Thushan and Mike were a few blocks behind – past the ornately carved doors of Old Town. I came upon a group of men, one of whom would later force himself upon us as a tour guide, near a now-decrepit fish market. They asked where I was from and I suggested they guess, as people had thus far yet to guess America. After one of them shouted a very self-assured “Israel!” I could not contain my laughter. A jovial conversation developed, ending with one of my favorite portraits from the entire trip.
I had moved up ahead of the guys because I was finding it very difficult to get into a photographic groove with Thushan and I lifting up our cameras simultaneously all morning. I wanted to see what I could see for myself. Each step brought me farther away from my travel companions, graciously jolting me out of my comfort zone as well.
From where did the discomfort come? Not where you might think. I was not scared to wander alone in Kenya because I am a woman or because I am white. Instead, I was on edge because of the self-imposed pressure of “people day”.
By nature, I am overly concerned with what others are thinking. It is important to clarify that I am not saying “about me”. When I stumble into someone else’s orbit, I am always wondering if it has offset them in some way. Long story short: this does not bode all that well, journalistically speaking. Getting the story – in my case, the photo – is much easier if one is at least partially aloof. Thushan has this down to a science. That is not meant to be an insult. A slight sense of detachment is an attribute perfectly suited to his line of work; one I would wager is directly related to his success.
My inability to disconnect leads directly to the not-great part of the day. While poised to take a photo of a street scene, a teenager with what must have been an entire bag of chips on his shoulder shouted at me. “It’s not fair, sister. It is not fair. This is not London. You are not on safari. These are not animals to be photographing.” With that, he rounded the corner and was gone, most likely without any concept of what he had left in his wake.
Had I been in my element, I would most likely just have chuckled and replied with an ever-so-slightly sarcastic comeback. But, he was right. This was not Boston (or London, for that matter). I had yet to press down the camera’s shutter, and suddenly felt very exposed myself. Then, in the middle of the beautifully dark and sunny dust-filled streets of Old Town, the strangest thing happened … I cried.
Truth be told, crying is not really the word for what went down. Uncontrollable sobbing would be a more valid description. Not wanting to be seen, I stepped off into a shadow-filled corner. Thushan, having seen and heard what had unfolded, followed and offered, “Just try to ignore it.” Yes, sweet detachment. I bit my lip in an attempt to disconnect from the incident, but the tears kept flowing, leaving a trail of clean down my otherwise dust caked face. Our officially unofficial tour guide was unsure how to handle this unhinged white girl. As we walked on, I was still trying unsuccessfully to shake my shakiness when we passed three women selling small boxes of fresh red rose petals. Our guide picked up a box and brought it to my nose while smiling and saying, “Smell. Nice, yes? Do not be sad.”
A few more twists and turns through the lanes of Old Town and I was able to elude my lack of self-control. With composure on my side, it did not take long to realize why this young man’s words affected me so much. The not-so-deep-down truth was simple: I had asked myself several times what the heck we were really doing on this trip. In the grand scheme of things, yes, we were doing Kenya a solid; we were spreading the word that the country is safe. We were there to tell you, friends and fellow travelers, to make haste and go on safari to this amazing country.
But at street level, who’s to say that this punk kid didn’t have me pegged? What were we actually giving to these people we were taking photographs from?
On the plane to Kenya (translation: too late), we read that the perfect thing to bring to the country is a Polaroid camera. Since a large number of Kenyans have never seen a picture of themselves, it sounded like the perfect small token of gratitude. Most importantly, there would be some giving involved.
Alas, we could not find a store in Nairobi that sold the famous instant camera. But, we did try the next best thing. We were able to share a bit of instant gratification with those we photographed thanks to the wonder of digitality. We showed each subject what he looked like on the 2-inch screens on the back of our cameras. Likewise, we have promised to send prints to those who requested them.
At the end of the day, I was laughing at my own tears from the morning. Maybe next time the realization will come to me more instantaneously, the shutter will fire, and I’ll get the photo. Then again, would that really be a good thing?
This entry was posted on Thursday, April 3rd, 2008 and is filed under exploring. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
April 16th, 2008 at 11:08 am
alicia–No easy solutions here but your story articulates the issue with great insight –for you and many other travelers. I have tried the polaroid thing–it’s helpful–but tends to lead to being mobbed by large numbers of children who all want their pictures taken, and you can run out of ( the very expensive) film quickly-
April 16th, 2008 at 2:35 pm
nicely put Alicia, you sum up something that many travellers from the privilege of their rough guides and hostels never ask themselves – what are we/they actually giving. i’m happy to hear Thushan was there ot tell you to ignore it
April 16th, 2008 at 3:09 pm
nicely put Alicia.
April 16th, 2008 at 4:43 pm
Fantastic post. And your photos are beautiful.
April 16th, 2008 at 9:00 pm
Alicia,
IMO, this was the best blog entry to date. You claim that journalists need to remain objective, and while that is true for certain situations, it doesn’t apply here. Sharing such a real experience is what helps us readers relate to your “safari.” Instead of imagining you all in some far-off place, we (or I, at least) were able to live through the moment with you.
Thanks for sharing
April 19th, 2008 at 8:44 am
Dear Alicia,
Amazing picture!!! and very touching piece. This is an amazing look into the photographer feelings, which is hard to catch in the pictures they take.
Best!
June 11th, 2008 at 3:59 pm
Hey Sweetie,
Sorry so late with a response….this is one TERRIFIC piece!! Our Internet is working again now that we’re back in MA…but we’ve been without it since 4/15, So I’m WAY behind on my “journey” with all of YOU !!!
What a beautiful piece of work you’ve written, Alicia! It puts a whole other layer on OUR perspective of your work…(which is phenomenomal,) a perspective of “heart and humanity”, …It’s so nice to be able to “feel” as well as “see” your work !! THANKS for the extra dimension…GOOD STUFF !!!!
Love YOU….
March 5th, 2009 at 8:42 am
Rick Newton introduced us to your blog in this semester’s Sicily class. We leave next week and I am still struggling capturing human emotion without feeling awkward behind the camera.
Loved your post. I think what you experienced is what I fear happening to me when I am finally comfortable enough to shoot people face-on. I realize that it is not how you “take” the picture, but rather the approach you take to get it.
I will keep it in mind as I travel!
March 5th, 2009 at 9:05 am
Hi there – I’m from Rick Newton’s Sicily class, and we read your blog article. It was a really nice read – and I can definitely sympathize with being shy in photographing people. I love the photograph that is put in the article as well – it really captures the person, something I’m sure is hard to do.
I’m also impressed that you talked about this experience and did not just put it aside; it really shows that photographers aren’t always just in the shadows.
Thanks for the piece!
March 5th, 2009 at 9:42 am
Alicia,
This is a wonderful article- honest, human, real. Your pictures are beautiful . I truly admire what you are doing in Africa- I wish I had that kind of courage.
Thanks for sharing this personal piece, I enjoyed.
March 5th, 2009 at 10:31 am
I really enjoyed this article! It was so real and full of emotion. It is true as travelers we never have the lens on ourselves it is always exposing those who are foreign to us.
March 5th, 2009 at 12:01 pm
Alicia~ I felt terrible about your breakdown in such a foreign place. I am a new photographer who has trouble getting comfortable taking pictures of strangers. Where journalists can interact and speak to their subjects, I feel like there is a dividing wall that comes between subject and camera. Any advice?
btw- your aunt bette rules
March 5th, 2009 at 2:06 pm
Hi Alicia,
I am currently in the photojournalism/travel writing class at UMass, as I hear you once embarked on that journey as well. And I loved your piece! I really appreciated the “realness” of it- it was extremely personable.
I too am quite frightened of taking photos of people, especially in short proximity. After having done a portrait assignment I am afraid of what I might embark on in Sicily when I want to photograph a Sicilian! But after reading this piece, I think I have a new outlook on photos of people, and hopefully I too can share with them, and not “take” my photos. I wish you the best of luck in your travels and thank you for sharing this!
Best!
March 5th, 2009 at 2:17 pm
Great article. I think what I like most about it, is that you are telling a personal story, and it is still very educational and useful for everyone reading it — kind of like, “Be aware that photographing people can ACTUALLY stir up emotion, because you aren’t photographing animals or objects that aren’t real…” You have first hand experience with that and you shared it with us, which is useful for us to know. I liked the ending where you show up how people can give back to the people with the Polaroid camera. Maybe that would have been the perfect trade — a photo for you and a photo for them.
March 5th, 2009 at 2:59 pm
That’s a really nice piece that you have written there. The pictures are beautiful too but one thing that struck me as I looked at them after reading the piece – no names.
I’m a journalism student myself and I’d like to think that I can understand both sides of the argument although based on the hard time I have of picking a side, perhaps I don’t truly.
You can’t ask every person in a city shot if they want to be photographed or their name but I do think it’s important to incorporate some of that sense of recognition into the piece, especially when there are little vignettes accompanying each photograph.
I am really impressed by the whole opus of the work here and I hope you keep up the good work. Journalism is shifting, changing, fast, real fast – ethics are coming and go and no longer defining journalism as a whole so much as the individual behind the story – but it seems like you’re doing a good job keeping up with it and leading it in the right direction.
March 5th, 2009 at 5:39 pm
Alicia,
I found this piece so intriguing and interesting. Since I am going to Sicily in a few weeks, I am worried about the phobia of photographing people. I can relate to your paragraph about worrying if I did or said something to offset another and am hypervigilent to what others are thinking. Therefore; I found that connection to the piece and think it is amazing that you were able to come into your element in such an unfamiliar place.
I found it heartwarming, for lack of a better word, when you discuss the fact that these people are very amazed by seeing photographs because they never have in their life. I can picture the scene that would take place during this event and it is so great that you were able to experience such a thing.
Great Article and great photo!
-Lisa
March 5th, 2009 at 5:44 pm
This was a very insightful blog! I really enjoyed reading it and could only imagine how you felt. I am in the Sicily class at UMass; we are leaving next Friday. Instead of snapping shots of every person, hillstop, and decrepit building I see, I am going to stop and soak in the culture and surroundings – like you said at the conclusion of your blog.
March 10th, 2009 at 4:00 pm
Alicia-
You article basically sums up my worst fears in photographing people. I can’t imagine anyone being capable of remaining composed in that situation, and I appreciated your candidness about the incident. I don’t, however, believe that you should feel as though you are taking anything from a subject when you photograph them. You were connecting with your subjects, not assaulting them with your camera or objectifying them- as long as you keep approaching it in that way you needn’t feel anymore guilty photographing a human than you would a landscape. Your camera is giving you a way to connect with these new people, not steal from them!