Photos Of The World (1); People.

---

My world tour of 06/07 inevitably produced a thousand and one memories that, thanks to my trusty Canon, will stay with me forever. The next few blogs, placed into different categories show pictures that recall special moments in time to me for a range of reasons; intriguing people, memorable sights or on occasion just pure photographic genius (Yeah, whatever Matt). Some of these snaps were on my original blogs, others weren't:-

ROCINHA FAVELA, RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL; Wednesday, February 21st, 2007.

There were quite a few travellers I met on both of my visits to the beautiful City of Rio De Janeiro who thought that to participate in the tourist fly trap that is the organised two hour excursion to the nearby Favela of Rocinha was tantamount to a vulture feasting on the scraps of humanity that existed within. The inhumane fortunate few revelling in the crumby existence of the not so. Thankfully I wasn’t one of them.

On my first visit to the City I’d been told the Favela trip was something that I shouldn’t miss. I didn't, but unfortunately a faulty memory card meant that my memory jogging pictures never made it out alive. Rio is a City where the gulf between rich and poor is evident more than any other I know. The people of Rocinha, the biggest of the cities many compressed hillside shanty town's, or at least the gang, in this case ADA or Amigos Dos Amigos (Friends of Friends) that maintain's a modicum of law and order, benefit from the intrusion of the snap happy freak show in the best possible way, in the form of hard cash payments from the tour company in return for the assured safety of the Gringo’s. That comfort aligned to some of the memories that still held clear was a good enough reason for me, in the midst of two weeks of late night revelling that was Carnaval to return.

I recalled my last visit and being told by the very same guide as this one, the sultry Christina (left), that taking of photographs on the descent from the top was nothing to feel worry or concern about, more that it was to be encouraged. The people, especially the kids she explained, love to have their images captured and to then be permitted to view them on the camera screen and the exclamation’s on their faces was all the proof I needed to dispel any guilt I might have possessed.

I came across these five (above right) towards the end of our trek down through the dilapidated shacks that made up their home town, their location towards the bottom confirming the initial suspicion that these were some of the Favela’s poorer Citizens. The open drains and sewers that meander through from top to bottom metamorphisise in times of heavy rain into torrents of liquid disease making the bottom of the hill the last place you would want to be in a shower.

The people of the Rocinha, excluding the drug dealing, gun toting gangsters that manage to maintain some degree of civility by an iron fisted rule of course are the epitomy of friendliness. A simple people making the most of the the meagrest slice of good fortune possible.

I love this first photograph so much because the faces hide everything. Every grotesque horror these young people have no doubt seen, felt and heard are hidden behind five faces of frightened innocence. Five faces still attempting to work out exactly what is going on and why.

BOA VISTA NEIGHBOURHOOD, SANTIAGO, CHILE -

Sunday, 21st January, 2007.
This was taken during was my first hour on South American soil following my arrival in the Chilean capital on the back of two revitalising weeks with my mother in New Zealand. Maybe it was the sudden severing of the maternal bond after that fortnight with Margaret that made this scene strike a particular chord with me but the sense of wonderment on the little girl’s face as if asking “Are they really dancing?” whilst her father and elder sister stood back patiently was enough to keep me fascinated for a good five minutes.

The girl is clutching a coin handed to her by her papa as a token of appreciation for the puppeteer but even though the bowl is just three short strides away she seems unsure that it would be a totally safe three steps. The man on the other hand seemed so involved in putting on a show that he appeared totally oblivious to the little girl’s apparent plight.

To my pleasure the little tale ended happily. All that was needed was an acceptance by the magic man that the little girl was feeling uncertainty, an acceptance expressed by something as simple as a smile, to convince her that all was well in the world and the smile was greeted with a short dash forward followed by a hasty retreat into her waiting, smiling father’s arms. I knew at that moment I was going to like Chile.

JOACHINA BEACH, FLORIANOPOLIS, BRAZIL - Friday, 16th March, 2007.

It was my first morning on the island of Florianopolis where, unbeknownst to me I was to spend the last eight weeks of my trip. I’d met a Swedish guy, Jonas, at the airport the day before and we had decided to hire a mountain bike each and head for the local beach. Joachina, reached via a three mile ride on a steep unevenly paved road through the dunes is generally regarded as providing some of the best surfing conditions in Brazil and as we started the descent down to the beach we could see flags fluttering and crowds gathered around a couple of makeshift structures. Maybe we were going to witness a real life surf competition.

As we got closer we could see there were very few people in the water, most were congregated excitedly around the sturdy temporary assembly. This wasn’t a surfing competition. Even better it was a full on beauty pageant being screened to television sets around Brazil. There were about thirty or so girls in all, all close to the perfect ten if I remember Dudley Moore’s logic and all dressed identically in tiny torquoise bikini’s.

It wasn’t the warmest of days, especially with the wind blowing off the Atlantic announcing the arrival of the oncoming winter and you just couldn’t help feel it was all a little sad. The poor things were freezing cold as can be seen in the picture and all in the name of trying to prove themselves to be more beautiful than their neighbour. Not that Jonas and I, nor for that matter the rest of the rabid males thronging the beach cared. Somehow the whole occasion gave one the sensation of a warm, tingling glow!.

FOOTBALL GROUND, LAGOA DE CONCEICIAO, FLORIANOPOLIS, BRAZIL - Saturday, 14th April, 2007.

During my six week stay at Stella’s house I became an ardent devotee of the local soccer team, Santa Fe Social, a rabble of varying ability and size followed by a handful of middle aged men from the town who sat on the steps of the clubhouse drinking beer and hurling jovial banter at the referee, the opponents and even their own team.

I had visions of me sitting amongst them twenty years from now, sharing in their laughter but that’s another story. For now I was happy to keep my distance watching horizontally from a bench on the sidelines and only venturing amongst them to pick up another chilled Brahma. Saturday afternoon’s soon became something I looked forward to in much the same way I do at home and the action, antics and passion for football on show were entertainment of the highest order.

Occasionally, an old man would stagger through the gates for a quick fix before returning hunched to his waiting wife or, as on this occasion, a brood of kids oblivious with the exception of big brother to just exactly what was going on. The game was in stoppage time as I strolled to the exit gates as can be seen from the exhausted state of the visiting goalkeeper when I came across these four (above). They give non league amateur football a whole new dimension.

SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN, RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL - Monday, 19th

February, 2007.
This photograph (right) was taken at the halfway post observation point on the way up Sugar Loaf Mountain. I’d gone with some friends from the hostel and we’d just got off the cable car.I was feeling a slight sense of disappointment at Sugar Loaf’s lack of a challenge to the woo factor Cristo had given me when it happened. I saw wonder woman. She was admiring the views from some huge man’s arms, hopefully her father’s and I instinctively reached for my Canon. The result proved it worthwhile and I think from the demure tilt of the head through to the loosening of the shoulder strap she is going to be a natural.

ANGKOR WAT, SIEM REAP, CAMBODIA - Friday, 24th November, 2006.

It was a blisteringly hot day when I chose to explore the Temples of Angkor but thinking back now it was like that everyday. I had already spent half a day walking admiring in amazement at these man made marvels and was feeling, to be frank, shagged out when I jumped down from yet another huge stone and landed in front of this. It was several minutes since I’d seen a soul, a long time at one of the world’s most visited wonders and she was alone, sitting, smiling in a cool naturally air conditioned man made cave scented with the burning incense. I don’t think I have ever seen a more contented soul before or since.

We exchanged smiles, nods and winks and I asked, for some reason in an accent that brought to mind the Underwood chippy, if I could take her photograph. She was only too pleased to oblige and as I departed, returning her waves as I went, I couldn’t help but wonder what she would be doing tonight.

SANTIAGO CATHEDRAL, SANTIAGO, CHILE - Monday, 22nd January, 2007.

For some reason on my journey I had developed a fascination with churches and religion. Maybe it’s the primary school upbringing at a small C of E village school where the religiously obsessed head mistress Miss Jones had a fling with the vicar or maybe my long running intrigue as to why religion, whatever the brand name, is so popular across the world. To be honest it’s more likely to be the latter but no matter.

Santiago Cathedral is one of my favourite churches. It’s elegant yellow stone façade fronting onto a huge square belies the enormous tombed interior that lurks within and all around you people cross chests whilst dropping to their knees in prayer. This was taken in an underground section at the rear of the church and the observers aren’t tourists but, judging by their attire, office workers on their way home.

The display of Christ hanging behind bars in his cell at the end of a long vault somehow kept me captivated, much like the little girl the previous day for a full five minutes.

---

Photos

Photos of the World; People
The hills have eyes. My favourite people snap.

Photos of the World; People
Our guide Christina strikes a totally natural pose as the dog gets patted. Shame about the towel.

Photos of the World; People
Nosey neighbours.

Photos of the World; People
Is it safe. The little girl ponders placing her coin in the magic mans bowl.

Photos of the World; People
Cheeky. Beauty pageant at Joachina.

Photos of the World; People
Santa Fe Social supporters club.

Photos of the World; People
Wonder Woman. A natural.

Photos of the World; People
Religion does strange things to people.

Photos of the World; People
JC doing time.

Comments

[DB]

Good stuff Piggie!