Behind the Lens
STORIES ABOUT SOME OF THE PHOTOS SEEN ON HORIZON
PART ONE : Bob Marley and the boat ride on the Nile
It was March of 2008 and I was facing a dilemma. My flight from Athens had just arrived at the Cairo International Airport and I had about 7 hours to kill before I had to catch a connecting flight to Bangkok. Since it was my first “visit” to Egypt, and being utterly appalled by the idea of spending more time than I absolutely have to in the smoking rooms of various airports, I decided to pay up the $15 for a Visa and step on Egyptian soil.
Now I only had to decide between a boat ride on the Nile or a short visit to the pyramids. Having just read “The Dice Man” by Luke Rhinehart, I decided to let chance make the decision for me. Lacking a pair of dice, a euro coin shone briefly in the air and River Nile it was!
My first experience in this ancient country was a loud bang as soon as I stepped through the automated doors leading to a huge parking lot. A limo had just driven into a parked car, a few feet away. “Welcome to Egypt!” a security guard next to me said with a big smile. I nodded, returning the smile, more surprised by the relaxed, this-short-of-thing-happens-all-the-time attitude of the guard than by the accident itself.
About an hour later I was vividly haggling prices with Captain Ahmed on one of the various piers. Arab music was playing loudly from an aging sound system on the boat. My negotiation skills had seriously improved after my last trip to Morocco in 2001, leaving us both satisfied with the price of 8$ for a two hour cruise. No one wants to get hassled to a soundtrack!
As soon as the felucca left the pier, a peculiar change came, music-wise. Apparently Ahmed’s preferences roamed beyond Egyptian Pop, cause the first notes of “No woman no cry” were heard from the speakers. Mistaking the look on my face for that of obvious approval, the captain turned the volume all the way up to the point were Bob’s lyrics were so distorted you had to really know your Reggae in order to tell what part of the song was playing.
By the time we reached the part of the river where all the fancy hotels are, Bob’s music had integrated so much with my immediate environment that ever since I can’t eat a falafel without humming the introduction to “Buffalo Soldier”!
PART TWO : Stav and the notorious Areca nut
It was a few weeks before the Thai New Year of 2009 and violence in the country was rising. The Reds were getting ready to bump heads with the Army. The Army was getting ready to bump heads with pretty much anyone disrupting the peace. The Yellows, in an effort not to be left behind, were getting ready to bump heads with the Reds and (or), given the opportunity, the Army . As for the Police? Well, they were just getting ready. Oh, there was also this guy called Thaksin trying to get back in power as Prime Minister, but that’s another story.
Of course, all this left us pretty much unaffected in our little piece of Paradise in Highland Farm. That was until a beautiful morning Darrel pointed out that our Thai Visas were going to expire soon. So it was time to take the “white people’s express” * into war-torn Burma to get them renewed. Another option would be Bangkok but, given the “colorful” situation, rumors on the international media of an impending coup d’etat, plus the fact that it was an eight hour drive each way, it didn’t sound that appealing.
An hour and 40 kms later we were crossing the Moei River on the Thai – Myanmar Friendship bridge. The border region had been quiet for some time and, since there had been no guerrilla fighting in the neighboring provinces for months, we were looking forward to a day of exploring the various day markets in Myawaddy.
One of the most memorable things in Burma is the red stains on the sidewalks and dirt roads. When I saw them for the first time, and taking into account the civil war that’s been going on in the country since the sixties, I immediately thought “This is dry blood! Someone was shot here.” Of course in some cases I might have been right, but most of the times the stains are just one of the side effects of a widespread tradition in Asia. A tradition that involves wrapping areca nuts in betel leaves and chewing them until your mouth turns red. Other side effects include increased salivation (followed by spitting, which in turn is followed by red stains ), throat cancer and damaged gums.
With all that in mind, when the monks of a monastery just out of town, who had invited us for tea, presented me with the opportunity to give it a try, I hesitated just enough to cause loud laughter. Like all times in life where I’ve been invited to try something new, I finally gave in. All I’m gonna say is that it took a helluva lot of tea to wash down the bitterness.
* “white people’s express” : an expression Darrel came up with the first time we visited the Thai – Burmese borders. It refers to the preferential treatment foreigners get while trying to cross, in contrast to the one god-forsaken refugees get in those long, oh so long, lines on both sides of the borders.
MORE “BEHIND THE LENS” STORIES TO FOLLOW SOON