Blurry Borders is proud to be part of the 2019 Melbourne Fringe Festival. Blind As A Backpack has teamed up with Readings Bookstore, Carlton and Signarama Melbourne to present Blurry Borders as a free, outdoor exhibition.
I take photographs not despite being legally blind but because I am legally blind. My eyes do not have lenses, but my camera does. It is my way of seeing detail in an otherwise blurry world.
Being legally blind due to cataracts, glaucoma, retinal detachments and tears, nystagmus and numerous other eye conditions, not to mention a large amount of surgeries and associated complications, means that the world is a blurry place with many closed doors.
By using a digital camera and a computer I can enlarge and enjoy images of people, places, actions and events that would otherwise be alien to my eyes. It is how I make sense of the world.
The camera for me is a tool rather than an implement of art. It is a shovel that lets me dig; a net which lets me catch; a window to the wider world and a key to unlock doors that would otherwise remain firmly closed.
I have particularly utilised photography while travelling in various parts of Asia including India, Pakistan and Myanmar. As a legally blind traveller it is difficult, at times impossible, to see the sights that others take for granted. The camera allows me to see not only the tourist sites but more importantly it offers me an insight into the daily goings on of each place; of the people. Without a camera most faces would be a blur; with a camera I can put their faces and sometimes their stories into focus. Some of the images I have taken while travelling have now become the Blurry Borders blind photography exhibition.
Blurry Borders has toured galleries and libraries in regional Victoria. I am now excited to join with Readings Carlton and the Melbourne Fringe Festival to bring a slice of the exhibition to a larger audience.
Photography offers me an alternative way of seeing and Readings Carlton now offer you a different way of viewing a photography exhibition. The images are largely taken on the streets and so will be shared in a similar fashion; on an alley wall in the urban street of Carlton. Being that photography is a tool for me rather than an artform, the archival paper has been dispensed with and corflute, a material more often found on building sites than exhibition spaces will be the medium.
Each photograph is accompanied by a story which gives the reader not only an insight into the place and people featured in the images but also a glimpse as to how and why I take photographs despite having approximately 3% vision in only one eye. It is your chance to experience the world through the lens of a blind guide.
The photographs that make up Blurry Borders have been audio described to ensure that others who are blind or have low vision can experience the images and stories. The audio descriptions can be accessed via personal smart phone at blindasabackpack.com/blurryborders
Blind people can take photographs; deaf people can dance and those who can’t speak might just be able to tell you the best story you’ve never heard.
Blurry Borders, blind photography exhibition will take place at Readings Carlton Alleyway from September 12 to 29 as part of the Melbourne Fringe Festival.
After leaving Syed and Muhammed one night we went for a meal (yep, kerai again) when the typical Pakistani hospitality was again displayed. We were eating our meal when another local, Sheppy, came and said a quick hello and left us to eat. As he left he quietly paid for our meal without even seeking thanks. A few days later we were in the next town about 10kms away and were looking for a ride back when out of the crowd I heard someone shouting my name. It was strange to hear my name and I was unsure who could possibly be shouting it. Our friend Sheppy appeared with a smile and offered us a lift. As our car rolled back into Madyan I felt as if we were returning home rather than entering a small Pakistani village. Sheppy then invited us out to dinner with him where we had the region’s famous trout. He took us out for another meal and to meet his extended family while we were in Madyan. We felt welcomed at every stage.
These gentlemen from Peshawar were having a few days off in Swat. Was great to share some tea, mango shakes and conversation
Even the local teenagers went out of their way to make us local blokes feel at home. One such teen was adamant that we must join him and his friend for an ice-cream. The ice-cream was delicious and refreshing and of course the conversation was better. Both teens seemed wiser than their years but still showed youthful enthusiasm in their enjoyment of the desserts. Our young friend paid for the treats; he wouldn’t have it any other way. We felt uneasy about this, his generosity genuinely bought a tear to my eye, and when we bumped into him later my brother put the money for the ice-creams into his pocket. He tried to return it to us but we couldn’t accept. On our last night in Madyan we again encountered our friend working in his family’s store. We got some drinks and snacks which were offered to us for free but we made sure to pay. We had a laugh with our friend and said goodbye. When we took our goods out of the bag we found cash hidden amongst the items; it seemed to be the exact money we had given him for the ice-creams. Our friend had obviously kept our money on hand, waiting to return it to us and had slipped it quietly into our shopping to avoid argument. This boy, this man perfectly typified the generosity of the Swat locals. They are friendly, welcoming, hospitable; they are polar opposites to the Taliban.
Our ice-cream buying friend on the right.
Madyan locals take time out from swimming in the river to pose
We also spent time in the village of Kalam. It was here that our love of cricket helped us negotiate a military checkpoint that seemed closed to us. The ride there, crammed in the back of a car on a seriously bumpy road, wasn’t at all comfortable but we made it into town. We had been advised by military that we shouldn’t go to Kalam due to some tribal arguments occurring in the area and told that if we did go there we had to report to the police and stay at a hotel adjacent to the police station. When we arrived we decided that the vicinity of the police station was the last place we wanted to stay as it was evident the authority’s headquarters had been the target of bombing and fighting. We were made most welcome by the police and as luck would have it a new arrival to the force spoke some English and was happy to chat with us. He dispensensed another officer to go and buy some fruit juice for us which seemed extra generous considering the run-down, ruins of the station and its lack of resources. After a chat a taxi arrived for us and we headed to our accommodation; luckily this was in the centre of town rather than next to the ruins of the police station.
Kalam, like Madyan, is a drawcard for other Pakistanis to escape the heat and relax. We quickly fell in with a group of men also staying at our hotel and spent most of our time on the balcony drinking tea and smoking the local herbal Pakistani cigarettes. The men spoke very little English but that didn’t stop us from having a chat and a laugh with our tea and smoke. Kalam is renowned for the beautiful surrounding landscapes of mountains, lakes and glaciers. Unfortunately for us we didn’t get to explore much of this as we weren’t in the best of health at this stage and needed to stay close to the bathroom. This wasn’t too concerning though as again it was the people we meet that provided the beauty.
A highlight of our time in Kalam was engaging in conversation with a Pakistani female. Sadly, this is a rarity as females aren’t able to be as active in public life as they should be. This is very noticeable throughout Pakistan as men are the ones who fill the streets and shops and it is they who most tourists will get to meet. This is a regional issue rather than a religious one. As mentioned, our male friends from the balcony spoke little English and we spoke even less Pashto or Urdu, but luckily a wife of one of the men spoke good English. We chatted about their children, their family business in Lahore, her university studies, our travels and about how much she preferred Lahore, home, to Kalam. She was very proud to be able to speak with us, stating that her :husband didn’t think I was smart but now that I can talk to you and he can’t he knows I’m smart”. It is a great shame that women aren’t able to participate in public life more; they deserve equal opportunities and rights. They, like all the inhabitants of Swat deserve to be free.
Swat River flowing through Kalam
There may be other places in the world, such as Switzerland, that compare to Swat in regard to its natural beauty but I think most would struggle to find a place as friendly. Swat and its people will always hold a special place in my heart; it is a home away from home; a place full of friends. It is not Switzerland; it is not Taliban country it is Swat and it is beautiful.;
There is a Light that Never Goes Out. Swat Valley, Pakistan
Track-side food stall near Mingora. This gentleman was amazed to see foreignors – the food was good too!
If you visit Pakistan’s Swat Valley you will hear the area referred to as the “Switzerland of Asia”. Swat doesn’t need to rely on comparisons like this though, it has its own unique charm and beauty.
A beautiful place it is no doubt; rushing rivers, lush hills and snow-capped peaks but like the area’s roads its recent history has been bumpy. In the mid to late 2000’s, the Taliban took control of much of Swat. Their grasp for power was brutal and tyrannical with many local people being murdered by the regime and their bodies put on public display. Schools were closed and destroyed, particularly those that taught girls and the freedom and rights of females was curtailed. Life for both females and males was oppressive and dangerous under the Taliban. Swat Valley is where Malala, a young girl on her way to school, was shot by the Taliban. She survived and grew stronger from the ordeal – much like all of Swat has.
The strict and confined life the Taliban tried to enforce is completely opposite to the way of life most Swat Valley residence choose to live. What we found were very generous, welcoming and open-minded people. Yes, they are strong followers of the Islamic faith, but they are very open to what others believe. They are proud of the valley’s educational system and particularly proud of the education that is offered to the girls of the area. They are normal people who deserve a good life, who want the best for their families and they are people who will go out of their way to make sure that any visitors to the area are treated with open arms, endless hospitality and the utmost respect.
Daily life in Swat is by no means a utopian existence. The rights and opportunities for females are still not on par with their male counterparts. While educational opportunities are improving participation in public life is still curtailed. It is the men who fill the streets and shops with women being much less evident and much more cautious and quiet during outings. This is not just the case in Swat but throughout much of Pakistan and of course neighboring Afghanistan. This is a regional problem rather a religious one; Muslim women in Indonesia for example take an equally active role in public life and it is often they who start a conversation with travellers begining with either a smile or a selfie. Pakistani women are strong; on more than one occasion we witnessed them telling off their husbands and I was jostled many times in markets by local women going about their business. One can only hope this strength, tenacity and smartness can come to the forefront more in Pakistan so that the women can lead the fulfilling and independent lives they deserve.
I’ve gotten a little ahead of myself though, we first had to get to Swat which was a process we made slightly more difficult for ourselves by not having our passports with us. We had had to leave those with the Pakistani government in Islamabad while we had our Visas extended. We had just photocopies of our passport and a small slip of paper stating where our real passports were. Swat Valley isn’t the ideal place to travel without a passport as there are many military checkpoints to go through. Foreigners can always expect to have more attention placed on them when going through these checkpoints with army personal having to record all passport, visa and travel details. This process can be quite slow as it is as the military personal rarely speak much English and the exact rules and requirements for entry often change depending on the situation in the area. Going through these checkpoints without a physical passport in hand made it even more difficult. On a few occasions we thought we might be turned back but thankfully we always managed to talk our way through. At one stop near Kalam the army officer wasn’t happy at all and was not going to let us through. Thankfully a police officer in attendance was more friendly (as they usually are) and was also a cricket fan. Our mutual love of cricket bought about high 5s, numerous phone calls and eventually our permission to proceed. I strongly recommended having your passport with you when passing through militarised zones like this but if you don’t have it on you just be confident and drop Steve Waugh or Ricky Ponting’s names!
After a long bus ride from Islamabad our first stop was Mingora. We arrived at night and begun the task of finding a hotel. There were plenty of hotels in the centre of town but none that would take us. Unfortunately, many hotels in Pakistan don’t accept foreigners as it can bring unwanted attention from the military and police. Eventually we ended up on the outskirts of town.
Like most places in Pakistan, it was enjoyable to just walk around town and observe daily life. The town was busy with people socialising and taking care of business. Groups of women and girls went about their shopping. Music blasted from vehicles and buildings. People laughed and had fun. Whilst that all might sound normal it was especially great to hear in Mingora as it meant the days of Taliban control were over.
We took in some of the towns’ Buddhist history with a quick visit to some of the pre-Islamic ruins. There are many ancient Buddhist sites in Swat and Pakistan in general illustrating the diverse history of the area.
Buddhist ruins in Mingora
The White Palace
We also made a visit to the White Palace (MMarghazar). The palace itself was nothing particularly amazing but we did have a great time making new friends on the bus there with the conversation lasting long after our arrival. We were told we were amongst the first tourists to visit the area in over 20 years. We then spent the evening with Ishan Khan and his friends enjoying a local meal and conversation. It is always a pleasure to spend time with locals and talk – it is the best way to learn about any place. At the end of the night we flew back to Mingora on the back of Ishan’s motorbike.
Our next stop in the Valley was the small town of Madyan. My first impressions of the place were not fantastic. It was hot and dusty and the area we first landed in was very rundown and unkempt. This is the kind of atmosphere I usually love but with the word ‘Taliban’ bouncing around in my mind I must admit I felt slightly uneasy for a minute or two. We slung our backpacks over our shoulders and started looking for somewhere to stay. The bags were extra heavy in the heat and the steepness of the terrain didn’t help. The horses and mules working in the streets kept my mood up but overall I wasn’t impressed. Thankfully though this impression would soon be turned around.
Madyan Police Station – just past the weed plants
Balcony view over Madyan
As we looked for a hotel things got more friendly with many people saying hello and offering help to carry our bags and find accommodation. Eventually we found the Foreigner Hotel, which thankfully took in foreigners and we settled in. From our balcony and with a cool drink, the beauty of the town and the area began to reveal itself. Madyan is surrounded by mountains, nestled snugly in the Swat Valley with the river of the same name cutting through town.
Fruit and begie pop-up store in Madyan
We received a quick visit from the police upon our arrival and were offered the services of armed guards. We assured the officer that we felt very safe, particularly with the always friendly, hospitable and helpful Pakistani people around us. He seemed genuinely happy when we said how secure and happy we felt there and he then left us to it, just adding that we should stay in town and not venture into the surrounding mountains without security.
There are not a lot of specific things to do or sites to see in Madyan. It is a place to enjoy the little things and escape the rat race. For many Pakistanis, Madyan and Swat in general, is a place to unwind and escape the heat of the summer plains. As such we meet lots of people from Peshawar, Islamabad, Lahore and smaller areas, all taking a break in this little hill town. This gives the place a great atmosphere as visitors are there to relax and have time to talk and the locals go out of their way to make guests feel at home.
We were quickly welcomed by the town and the people. We could barely take a few steps without being stopped and offered a cold drink or something to eat. Everyone was curious to know where we were from and what we were doing in Swat Valley. The locals were very keen to show off the natural beauty of the area and the achievements of its people.
Mohammed, myself and Syed – good friends of Madyan
When returning to our hotel one night there were two men waiting for us downstairs. The word had quickly got around that there were foreigners in town and these two had gone out of their way to meet us and welcome us. Our new friends Syed and Muhammed spent quite a bit of time with us during our stay listening to stories of our travels and telling us about life in Swat. Syed is a doctor with Medicines Sans Frontiers on the Pakistan/Afghanistan border and Muhammed is completing his masters in Zoology with hopes of working in South Korea. The two best friends made us feel right at home and it was a pleasure getting to know them.
Whilst having lunch with Mohammed (kerai again) we noticed a heavily armed police officer sitting a few metres away from us. We did our best to keep our voices down and not attract too much attention. We weren’t too concerned as the Pakistani police had been great but we wanted to avoid an overzealous officer wanting to guard us. The conversation with Mohammed turned to what foods we usually consumed. He asked us if we drank beer and ate pork; two no-no’s in the Islamic tradition. ‘Well, yes we did – when we are in Australia’ we quietly answered. This made Mohammed chuckle, “Wow, you actually eat pork?”. Mohammed turned towards the police officer and loudly told him and the other diners of our dietary intake. There were audible gasps. The police officer stood up with his automatic weapon in hand. ‘Uh oh’ we thought. His hand came off his weapon and stretched out towards us for a handshake. He wasn’t at all concerned about what we did or didn’t eat just wanted to make sure we felt welcomed. He gave us his phone number and assured us that if we had any problems while in Pakistan to call him and he would sort it out. To serve and protect; that is the Pakistani police way.
Peshawar is a city in the north west frontier of Pakistan. It is the last major city before the famed Khyber Pass which leads into Afghanistan. Peshawar is one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world with its origins traced back to the 5th century BCE. Many armies from those of Alexander the Great, the Persians, the British and more recently the Taliban have tried to conquer and control the strategic and historic city. All have failed.
At the time of our visit various groups and individuals were still trying to grab hold of that control. Buses had been bombed, shootings against targeted religious groups had occurred and terrorists had been shot in hotel rooms while preparing attacks. That was just on the morning we were due to arrive in the city. There was probably more going on; I closed my computer and the news and got ready to catch the bus. Oh, there was also an outbreak of dengue fever, flash floods and the locals were apparently getting restless and retributional about the frequent power outages.
Our taxi, basically an engine with some chicken wire and gaffa tape, took us from the dusty bus station into the old city. Past the ancient citadel which is still used by armed forces to hide in and into the Khyber Bazaar. We wandered the dirty and dishevelled streets looking for accommodation that would take in foreigners, not an easy task in that part of the world. Bearded men in filthy grease covered shalwar kamez stared up at us. I’d be lying if I said I felt totally safe.
Slowly though those stares seemed to become a little more relaxed. I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw a few glimpses of white flash on those bearded and grime covered faces. Hands started to be raised as if waving. ‘A Salam Alaikam’ those mouths started to say to us. ‘Peace be with you. Welcome’. Then people stopped to ask if we needed any help. They pointed us in this direction, in that direction. Mainly they wanted us to sit and drink tea (kawa) with them. To talk even if we didn’t share a language. To smoke and to laugh with them.
The city and its myriad of charms continued to reveal themselves over the week or so we spent in what is now my favourite city in the world. It is a place where it is easy to feel like you have stepped back in time. Cobbled streets . Stone and mudbrick buildings. The Call to Prayer echoing from numerous minarets . Donkeys and goats being led by traditionally dressed herdsmen. Those working in IT or finance wearing basically the same. Streets filled with the smoke of hundreds of BBQs and tandoori ovens and perhaps a little hashish. Flat bread and mayhem. Paradise and catastrophe.
Despite the historical depth of the city we didn’t go out of our way to visit ancient sites; instead we were happy to just walk the streets and meet the people. Politics and cricket were the main subjects of conversation with those that spoke English. They wanted to know about Australia and to let us know of their favourite places in Pakistan. Smiles and tea were the focus with those who didn’t speak English but whose company we enjoyed. People were delighted to see us in their city and were often a little surprised that we didn’t have an armed guard with us as is sometimes required for foreigners. We didn’t need to be followed by a gun (there have been and is more than enough of them in Peshawar) as we had the locals looking out for us at all times.
We made numerous friends in the city. A group of men at a tea shop outside our hotel who we sat with with regularity. Our extremely hospitable hotel staff. Another group who operated a sling shot shop not far away who offered us a place to sit and some tea to share on numerous occasions. Everyone in Peshawar seemed to be a friend; maybe a friend we hadn’t meet yet but friends the same. The welcoming and hospitable nature of the locals was second to none.
We didn’t get dengue, none of our buses exploded and no-one was shot in our hotel room or those nearby. Unlike Alexander the Great and many others we didn’t try to conquer Peshawar. We just let the city wash other us and let the people become part of our lives. Rarely does a day go by that I don’t think back to my time in the city and dream of returning. There must be one or two locals we didn’t meet and no doubt many cups of tea waiting to be drunk with old friends.
Welcome to part 2 of a look at the island of Java through the lens of a blind guy. If you haven’t had a look at part 1 yet you can check it out here.
Walking through a residential area of Yogakarta, called Kali Jode, was a lot of fun. The locals were relaxed at the end of the day and were happy to say hello. Well rather than hello it was mungo; my favourite Javanese word!
Image description. An Indonesian man sits, wearing only green shorts, in front of his house. He is holding a knife which he is using to trim the sole of a sandal. He is looking down, concentrating on his work. In front of him is a large pile of sandals which he has made.
Image description. An elderly Indonesian woman sits on a step in the doorway of her house. She is looking off in the distance, towards the left of the image, seemingly content at the end of the day. She is wearing a bright yellow and pink cardigan; her black and white skirt features abstract, geometric shapes. Her right foot has a sandal while her left is bare. She has a wooden pole, a walking stick, on the ground in front of her; her right hand is reaching down to it while her left big toe is just on top of it.
Image description. Two children pose with their bikes. The girl on the left has her chin resting in her left hand as she poses towards the camera. Her bike is pink, as are the sleeves of her top; the rest is blue. The child on the left has a silver bike, predominantly white clothing and is making a peace sign with two fingers. They are standing in front of a narrow residential street The two storey buildings behind them butt against each other with only a small distance between the front of each; inner city dwellings. They are of various colours including green, grey, yellow and white.
“Instagrammable” was my secod favourite Javanese word. Instagram and the posing that comes with it are a favourite pastime of many Indonesians, particularly the females. Ancient temples are a particular favourite backdrop for these selfie photoshoots. For me seeing the locals have fun in their beautiful outfits was more interesting than the historic monumenta themaelvea.
Image description. Photograph shows five youg women sitting in front of Borobudur Temple. There are five belled shaped domes in the background; they are made of stone with holes or wndows on them. They are sitting on stone basses. Behind them is a larger bell shaped dome with no windows. The girls in the forefround are sitting in a star shape with their feet meeting in the middle.They are dressed in various colours and each has a headscarfe or other head covering as they are Muslim. They are smiling at the camera and giving a thumbs up and one girl has a smart phone held aloft on a selfie stick. There are other people amongst the domes in the background also taking selfies.
Image description. Two girls walk under an umberalla. The umberalla has a pink, blue and yellow floral pattern. The girls are dressed in grey tones including their headscarves. One is wearing a pink face covering; only here eyes are visible above it and below the umberalla. The girl on the right is smiling but her eyes are covered. It is the girl on the right holding the umberalla as the two walk and talk. Behind them is a blurred background with a grey temple building.
Image description. Two females sit on the steps of a temple; Prambanan. The first, sitting higher and slightly to the left is a young girl who is looking at the camera. Below her is a woman, possibly the girl’s mother, looking to the right. Both are wearing blue outfits which include headscarves. Above the woman and to the right of the girl is a stone statue of a lion which is part of a Hindu temple. The lion’s mouth is open while the girl next to it smiles.
Image description. Three Indonesian girls pose for the camera. They are on a day out so are dressed up. The first, on the left, is wearing a long, pink dress with a purple hijab. She is smiling at the camera and holding a pink umberalla which is resting on her right shoulder. The girl in the middle is wearing a pink hijab and a predominantly light blue, pink and yellow dress. She is smiling, wearing glasses and also holding a blue/green umbrella. Beside her, on the right of the image is another girl wearing a long bluish dress with floral patterns and a pink/red hijab. She is wearing sunglasses and smiling. Behind them are a number of thin, tall trees covered with green leaves providing the girls with some shade from the bright sunlight which can be seen filtered through the trees.
Local markets are always fun and interesting places. I can’t usually see much of the goods on offer but I enjoy getting a glimpse of the different people, their outfits and the random goings on. This market, or pasar, was located in Surabaya.
Image description. Two women sit amongst their local market stalls. The woman on the left is wearing purple and yellow clothes with a beige headscarf. She has her left hand against her face which is looking slightly to the right of the image. Her eyes are closed and mouth open as if talking or smiling. To the right of the image is another woman. She is adjusting her light green headscarf whilst also smiling with her eyes closed. She is dressed mainly in purple with her feet up on a wooden table in front of her. To her right are piles of crates, boxes, egg cartons and other items. The two women appear to be having a chat and a laugh.
Image description. A woman in green skirt, brightly multicoloured shirt, beige headscarf and bare feet tipsthe contents of a multicolouredwoven basket into a larger pile. There are numerous baskets and piles of small round vegetables around her. We cannot see much of her face, just a flicker of a smile between her arm and basket.
Image description. A woman in a black shirt, patterned skirt and woven, net like headscarf walks through a narrow street with her back to the camera. Her right hand is balancing a crate which is sitting on her head. Her left hand grips a bar on a rickshaw (a peddle powered taxi) appearing to be stopping it from bumping onto her. She stands tall and is looking straight ahead. To her right is another woman dressed mainly in purple; she is slightly higher than the first woman and appears to be standing back out of the first woman’s way. The narrow alleyway is filled with crates piled high and other market paraphanelia.
I was recently lucky enough to spend three weeks on the beautiful Indonesian island of Java. I was nervous at first about visiting one of the most densely populated areas of the world, I mean that’s a lot of people and traffic to potentially walk into, but it was the people that made the place so good.
Take a look at Java and some of its people through the lens of a blind guy! And don’t forget to check out part 2 here.
The traffic in Jakarta is inescapable. The roads seem constantly choked with a multitude of motorbikes, a cacophony of cars and a boatload of buses. Not to mention the tuk tuks, bikes and the many carts full of various foods and other items that are pushed by hand. Thankfully though the footpaths are a little more sedate. Notice the yellow strip along the footpath? I noticed it, all over Java. The yellow strip is a tactile device to help visually impaired people navigate the streets. The tip or ball of a white cane can slide along the grooves on the strip which provides a comfortable way to keep walking straight.
Image description. The image shows a street in Jakarta, Indonesia. On the right is a busy and seemingly blocked road. Motorbikes and their riders choke the road. They are facing both directions, mixed up with each other. There are also buses and cars. There appears to be no room to move on the road. To the left is a footpath; vacant except for ne man walking towards the camera with his right hand on his head. Along the middle of the footpath is a yellow strip; tactile directional markers for visually impaired pedestrians.
The old and the new meet in a Jakartan backstreet.
Image description.Image shows a street scene in Jakarta. On the left is a man on a motorbike. He is wearing a pink tshirt, black shorts with coloured strips and has a black bag slung over his right shoulder. On the right is a barechested man pulling a cart filled with wooden crates. The two are heading in each other’s direction. Behind them are shop fronts with some parked motorbikes. There is also a power pole and power cables in the image.
The Istiqlal mosque in Jakarta is the largest mosque in southeast Asia. Its size is highlighted by its emptiness. Where thousands could fit one women in yellow and red is all that is needed.
Image description. Image shows the courtard of a mosque. It has brown tiles on the ground with intersecting lines along the length and width of the courtyard. There is a minuret or large tower near where two walls of the courtyard meet in the corner. There is a large building behind the courtyard on the left. Behind it and the tower is a light blue sky. Just below the tower, in the middle bottom of the image, is a woman with her back to the camera walking in the courtyard. She is wearing yellow clothes with a red head scarf.
I can’t see the florist for the flowers… The Javanese loves brightly coloured flowers; important parts of all celebrations. My eye and camera also love brightly coloured flowers. The smile in the background while the men wear their face masks is an added bonus. A bright and beautiful morning walking Solo, Indonesia.
Image description. Image shows a florist spilling out onto the footpath in Solo, Indonesia. In the foreground is a pile of bunches of flowers. There are yellow, orange, red, white and pink flowers in varying shades. Three men sit behind and beside the pile creating more bumches of flowers. The men are wearing white face masks as they work. There is a woman, also working, behind the pile. She has a big smile.
Tama Sari in Yogyakarta was once the Sultinates private Water Castle; a hidden complex featuring pools of water, gardens and an underground mosque. This area was the private pleasure gardes used mainly by the Sultan’s harem. The water is goe due to damage to the complex but the underground mosque remains. It was a fun but also challenging place to photograph due to the changing light conditions. Females in beautiful Islamic inspired outfits, all happily posing for photos made it even more fun.
Image description. Image showsa dark curving tunnel, part of an underground mosque. To the left is an opening which lets in sunlight. The light baths a female wearing a black dress with an orange headscarf. She is looking out the opening, slowly moving towards it. Her front; face and hand are in the light while her back is in shadow.
Viewing and climbing Mount Bromo was an amazing experience. The day started very early as we hiked up a mountain for a view of the sunrise light over Bromo and its friends. Witnessing two nearby volcanos emanating smoke was a once-in-a-lifetime experience which was only bettered by climbing Bromo later that day. Then we found ourselves on the rim of the active volcano. Smoke constantly blew out while I did my best not to fall in!
Image description. This is a landscape photograph of three volcanoes. To the left is Mount Bromo, a volcano with a wide crater; there is smoke coming from the crater. To the right is a larger cone shaped volcano. In the background is an even larger cone shaped volcano with a plume of smoke rising from its vent. They are all brown and grey, bathed in the early morning light. In front of them is a valley covered in mist.
Image description. The photograph is of the vent of a volcano, taken from the top, looking down into the crater. There is a large plume of white smoke eminating from the volcano. The surrounding, curved walls of the crater are grey and craggy.
Most of the cities we visited in on Java had some beautiful and colourful street art on the urban walls. Yogyakarta was perhaps the best painted of all the cities. I loved the splashes of colour amongst the streetscapes; much more appealing to my vision than empty grey walls. This particular piece isn’t the most colourful but when I saw the image I knew it was one I wanted to photograph. I knew many motorbikes would come wizzing down the alley so I waited and tried to capture art imitating life imitating art.
Image description. This photograph is a street scene in Yogyakarta, Indonesia. The back of the image features a wall covered in graffiti or street art. On the wall is a large picture of a Mickey Mouse-esque character on a motorbike. The mouse’s body is a steele skeleton. It appears as if it is about to ride off the wall onto the street. In front of the wall is a real person on a real motorbike, blrred due to movement. There are a number of large water bottles on the back of the bike and the rider is wearing a conical, bamboo hat.
One of my favourite photographs of Java. Not technically brilliant but it shows the friendly nature and hospitality of the locals. We were at a hot spring complex near Bandung where a hello lead to a photo, which lead to a selfie, which lead to more hellos and eventually an invitation to join this crew for lunch. The woman feeding the young boy was adamant that we share their meal. Mothers are mothers.
Image description. This photograph shows a large group of people sitting together having a picnic lunch. There are approximately 16 people in the image, most of them girls and women. Most of the females are wearing headscarves though some of the younger girls don’t. Most of them are looking towards the camera, smilig, some have raised hands displaying two fingers in a v shape; the sign for peace. There is an array of food on the ground in front of them. They all appear to be enjoying themselves. To the right of the image is an older woman; she has food in her hand which she is putting into a young boys mouth.
Early morning Jakarta. A little bit of peace while the bustling city wakes for another day. Preparations begin in the alleys as they ready to become kitchens and dining areas. A motorbike makes its way towards us; there are no differences between kitchens and roads.
Image description. This photograph shows a street, or alley scene in Jakarta. The camera looks down an alleyway with grey, mottled walls which are well worn. To the left is a woman in a bright yellow dress and a red and black headscarf. She is washing dishes at a bench along the wall. There are a number of cooking utensils along the wall, this is her outdoor kitchen. At the back of the image is a person on a motorbike, riding down the alley towards the camera.
In a recent blog post I mentioned the frustrations of not being able to see and experience people’s body language. Today I’ll focus in more detail on a detail I find hard to focus on; smiles.
Smiles are like sunshine when its cold and like a cool breeze when its hot. They are like songs, like symphonies. They are like a deep fried Mars Bar (well, not really, I just love deep fried Mars Bars).
Smiles are amazing things. They make people feel happy, feel welcome, feel invited, feel excited. They send information faster and with more honesty than words. They are spontaneous, natural and a gift to experience for the person smiling and those witnessing it. Smiles are infectious.
Missing out on smiles and all they embody is one of the more frustrating things about being visually impaired. If a smile is inviting missing out on witnessing them is by definition isolating. It is like being exiled. My current visual acuity means that seeing a smile first hand is an increasingly rare thing and they often seem more like mirages than messages.
All is not lost though. If smiling is natural then smiling at a camera is the natural evolution. It is a phenomenon that I increasingly take advantage of. Whilst I prefer candid photos that expose the grit and grime of life as well as the gorgeous and glorious I am not adverse to yelling “cheeeeese!” in the direction my lens is pointed.
The camera also allows me to capture hidden smiles that I otherwise wouldn’t know existed. I can then view these smiles enlarged on a computer screen or a framed print and take them with me. Not necessarily stolen but beautiful.
Since smiles are meant to be shared lets have a look at some of my favourite smiles I have collected.
Inle Smile
This is one of my first travel photos and still one of my favourites. It also embodies why I as a legally blind person take photographs. My brother and I were sitting in a wooden boat in a canal in Nyaung Shwe, Shan State, Myanmar. The early morning scene was noisy with activity. People from the surrounding hill tribes and floating villages of Inle Lake got on and off boats with produce they had to sell and new items to take home. Young monks and thanaka covered girls made their way to school. A group of squealing pigs in the boat next to me made their way to the BBQ. The overwhelming sound, smell and smoke of diesel engines filled whatever space was left.
Over that din came a loud, sharp, shrill sound. An excited and unstoppable “Hello!!!” A magnificent “Mingalabar!!!”
Having just snapped the aforementioned pigs I had my camera in hand and finger on the shutter release button. I involuntarily turned towards the shout that had come from behind me and as I did I clicked the camera. There was no time to focus or frame for a planned photograph, not even time to try and see who had made the sound or where they were.
Our boat trip out onto Inle Lake continued for most of the day. I saw and snapped, mainly snapped, various temples, villages, and gardens all perched on stilts as if floating in the middle of the lake. I tried my best to photograph the iconic fishermen of the lake with their unique type of nets and even more unique style of leg rowing. We visited the jumping cat monastery which would be better named the sleeping cat monastery.
When it came time to look at the pictures I had taken there was one main thing I wanted to check. Who yelled that early morning welcome and had I even managed to capture them? As I scrolled through the images I found a near perfect frozen frame. Maybe not perfect as far as technical photography skills go but perfect for me.
There standing out even louder and bolder than her voice was the beaming face of a local girl. Maybe she was on her way into town with her family for school or shopping. Maybe to visit family or friends. Maybe to prepare for the Buddhist festival that was taking place in the area. Maybe to do something mundane like visit the dentists or fill out a form. I don’t know but I do know that for a second she was genuinely excited to see some new faces in her part of the world. In the photo, her eyes and smile are as vibrant as her hello was. The raised, open palm is welcoming and inviting. The thanaka on her cheeks signifies the location and the bored faces of her travelling companions show this is just one of many boat trips for them. Still, she is happy and we are welcomed.
Mingalabar Myanmar!
Peshawar Grin.
Peshawar is a city in the north west frontier of Pakistan. It is the last major city before the famed Khyber Pass which leads into Afghanistan. Peshawar is one of the oldest continuously inhabited places in the world. Many armies from those of Alexander the Great through to the more recent Taliban have tried to conquer and control the strategic city. All have failed.
At the exact time of our visit various groups and individuals were still trying to grab hold of that control. A bus had been bombed, shootings against targeted religious groups had occurred and terrorists had been shot in hotel rooms while preparing attacks. That was just on the morning we were arriving in the city. That was just what I read before stopping myself reading the news. The fact that no-one in the city or area seemed phased by these things showed just how routinely these things happened.
Our taxi, basically an engine and some chicken wire and tape took us from the dusty bus station into the old city. Past the ancient citadel which is still used by armed forces to hide in and into the Khyber Bazaar. We wandered the dirty and dishevelled streets looking for accommodation that would take in foreigners, not an easy task in that part of the world. Bearded men in filthy grease covered shalwar kamez stared at us. I’d be lying if I said I felt totally safe.
Slowly though those stares seemed to become a little more relaxed. I wasn’t sure but I thought I saw a few flashes of white teeth on those bearded and grime covered faces. Hands started to be raised as if waving. ‘A Salam Alaikam’ those mouths started to say to us. ‘Peace be with you. Welcome’. Then people stopped to ask if we needed any help. They pointed us in this direction, in that direction. Mainly they wanted us to sit and drink tea, kawa, with them. To talk even if we didn’t share a language. To smoke and to laugh with us.
The city itself and its myriad of charms continued to reveal themselves over the week or so we spent in what is now my favourite city in the world. It is a place where it is easy to feel like you have stepped back in time. Cobbled streets. Stone and mud brick buildings. Donkeys and goats being lead by traditionally dressed herdsmen. Those working in IT or finance wearing basically the same. Streets filled with the smoke of hundreds of BBQ and tandoori ovens. Flat bread and mayhem. Paradise and catastrophe.
Though steeped in history we didn’t go out of our way to visit specific sites. We just walked in the mind numbing heat knowing we would be stopped for tea, mango shakes and more tea and conversation by all who noticed us. I took photos of people and when I didn’t they chased us down the street to make sure I captured a piece of them and their city to share with others.
This picture itself was one though where we didn’t have time to stop and talk. I didn’t have time to lift my camera to my eye. I just glimpsed two of my all time favourite things – a donkey and a smile – and I clicked. This picture perfectly captures Peshawar for me though. Dishevelled, dirty, donkeys and dabs of modernity. I’m not sure if the gentleman pictured was smiling at the site of my camera, a guest in his city or just taken by surprise by my eye patch but his welcoming grin while hard at work typifies the spirit of the people of that part of the world. Hospitable at all times. His smile, his mule and the thought of Peshawar always make me smile in return.
Nepal Undercover
The two hidden smiles in this photo were a surprise. This photo was taken in Kathmandu, Nepal. I hadn’t taken many photos there so this was mainly to get my fingers clicking. I had seen the local gentleman in traditional headwear so thought that with a random street scene would be a place to start.
It wasn’t until later when looking through pictures on my computer screen that I noticed the pink umbrella. Later still I zoomed in and noticed the two figures hiding in the shadows under the umbrella. It was only then, long after leaving the country, that I caught a glimpse of the smiles and saw the two girls stopping and posing for the camera. That was nice of them.
Obviously it would be much better to see such smiles in real life, in real time. That’s not to be. Thankfully though, at least for now, I can use the camera and the spontaneous generosity of strangers to experience those welcoming, exciting, inviting and infectious slices of human nature.
A group of females in colourful outfits move towards the camera down a flight of stairs. To their left, right and behind them are golden Buddha statues
It would be brilliant if every photo was crisp, clear and in focus. It would be great if my daily vision was like that too. They are not of course but sometimes the blurryness is part of the story rather than a detraction.
Travelling around South East Asia and in particular Myanmar, means many visits to temples. I enjoy taking photographs in these places so that I can have a better look at what they contain when I view the images on a computer screen. These temples aren’t just sites for the fleeting enjoyment of tourists though, they are important and longstanding places of worship, full of meaning and protocol for the locals. I do my best not to annoy people with my camera while they are praying. It is their private moment, not my moment to intrude on and steal.
Blurry photo shows four females in colourful clothes sitting on the top of a set of stairs. They are looking towards the camera. Behind them and to their left are golden Buddha statues
When visiting Mrauk U in Rakhine State, Myanmar in 2016, I was doing my best to keep out of the way of worshippers while taking in the area’s amazing Buddhist temples. My excellent guide was encouraging me to take lots of photos as he knew that doing so was important to me. As we approached an alter featuring yet another golden Buddha image my guide pointed and said to take a photo. I thought I could see people praying and I didn’t want to interfere with their experience, I also didn’t want to ignore my friendly guide so I compromised and vey quickly raised my camera and fired off a few shots without taking the time to frame or focus.
“Oh no”. The people that had been praying did indeed notice me. They were making their way towards me quicker than my camera’s flash. I had interrupted them and now they were either coming to let me know they weren’t happy or to at least get out of the view of my camera and I.
One of the most frustrating things about being visually impaired is not being properly able to see people’s facial expressions or body language. It makes it difficult to approach people as I never know if they appear welcoming or otherwise. It means missing out on amazing things like smiles. It means being in a constant state of anxiety. My anxiety started to race as the figures came towards me.
Before I knew it I was surrounded. There were at least five individuals around me. Even when up close I couldn’t see body or facial expressions though I thought I glimpsed a smile or two. Then laughter. First those that surrounded me, then my guide, then me; though I wasn’t totally sure what the joke was.
My guide translated for us. The group weren”t at all annoyed that I had taken their photograph. In fact they wanted photos of their own At first one girl approached me with equal amounts enthusiasm and shyness. She stood next to me while our picture was taken. Another girl approached, a little braver than the first and stood pressing against me. The next girl had gained confidence from the first two and to the shreik of giggles from the crowd, she put her arm around me for her photo. The boys who were taking the photos then swapped places and got their pics taken with me. For a minute at least I felt like a rockstar, still haven’t got the rockstar paycheck though!.
Two females in colourful clothes move towards the camera
The group departed in a fit of noise and happiness and my guide told me why they were so excited. Apparently the group came from a remote village and this was their first trip to the relatively big Mrauk U, itself in a remote part of western Myanmar. Amazingly I was the first westener or white person they had seen or met hence the inquisitiveness and desire for a photo. They were by no means uneducated or ignorant villagers. They all had mobile phones which were no doubt connected to the rest of the world, it just happened that this was the first time a bit of the outide world stood in front of them.
My guide said they were all amazed at my white skin and we laughed that quite often those with pale skin desire a darker shade while those with naturally darker skin often try to lighten it. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence wherever that fence may be. I was also told that the group planned to get their photos printed out in large format while they were in town so that they could proudly display the image back in the village. This still makes me laugh, somewhere in Myanmar people might still be talking about the time they met a short, sweaty, pale skinned guy with a funny stick and an eye patch! I would never consider myself the poster boy for the West but there we are!
I had given my guide my camera to take pictures of the group for me as well but unfortunately I didnt give proper instructions on its use so no photos were actually taken. That is ok though. I may not have much more proof than a couple of blurry images but I do have the memories, as do the group in my blurry photos, and Im sure we will all remember and occasionally tell the story for a long time to come.
A group of girls in colourful outfits sit in front of a golden Buddha statue as they look towards the camera
The author giving a thumbs up while standing next to a male lion. The lion’s head is tilted with mouth open
“Hurry, hurry. They are getting very active!”
These aren’t necessarily the words you want to hear while standing in between a pair of adult male and female lions!
There could be worse comments though, like “See that? Just there! Can you see it? Look at that. Wow!” That’s usually the type of comments I hear while straining my eyes and imagination to try and see what others notice easily.
Being legally blind has meant countless situations like this where I miss out on the experience that others take for granted, whether that be looking at animals in a zoo or in the bush and in everyday social situations. These experiences add to the frustration of missing out on everyday things as well as the wonderful. They highlight the differences between my experience of the world and that of ‘normal’ people and makes me realise just how much other stuff I must be missing out on. It is not so much the fear of missing out but the reality and frustration of missing out.
So when I was told to hurry because the lions around me were getting restless it wasn’t a time to be scared or worried it was a time to be happy and thankful. No matter what happened I knew I was in the middle of the action, not on the periphery missing out.
The author crouching beside a female lion. The lioness is standing with her head towards the author
Tiger Kingdom in Chang Mai, Thailand offered the perfect opportunity to not only get into the middle of the action but to get hands on with these beautiful beasts. The opportunity to touch, feel and smell big cats like these is not one that comes up often (at least not where I live thank goodness!) so the opportunity to get tactile with the King and Queen of the Jungle was an amazing experience.
Visitors are encouraged to pat the animals very firmly, they are thick skinned so they need a bit of force to let them know you are there and are not just an annoying mosquito to be absent mindedly swatted away. The short, rough fur on their backs reminded me of Staffordshire breeds of dog but the muscle and breadth of the lions’ rumps dwarfed that of any canine. I had to be careful not to get too carried away while scratching their backs and had to remember that while my domestic cats LOVE a back scratch it can get them into a state of bliss where they lose inhibition and have a playful swipe – a playful swipe from a lion could be a game changer!
The author rubbing the male lion’s back (whilst taming the beast with the classic Croc Dundee finger work. The lion is lying on his stomach and has his tongue poking out
The staff encourage people to pick up the lions’ tails for photographs. When it came to the male he had his tail firmly tucked under and between his legs. I must admit I was a bit nervous about grabbing the wrong thing! A blind guy feeling about for something to grab between a male lion’s legs; what could go wrong?!
The author standing behind a male lion, who is also standing. The author has one hand on the lions back while the other hand is holding up the lion’s tail
In reality the scariest thing about entering the lions’ den was not the big cats themselves or what may or may not be between their legs but it was the electric wire that circled the enclosure. I couldn’t take my white cane into the enclosure so didn’t have my usual obstacle finding tool, though it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to find live wires with the cane anyway! I also didn’t exactly let the staff know just how visually impaired I am in case they wouldn’t allow me to take part so it was with good luck and thankfulness that I avoided getting electrocuted!
Whilst my time in the lions’ den was only short it was a unique opportunity to get hands on and up close with these amazing animals and an experience that I am grateful I was able to take part in. There was no wondering if I could see the animals on display, no confusion as to what was in front of me; the lions were at the ends of my finger tips, in my palms and will be a memory to keep forever.
The male lion lying on his belly with front legs stretched out and a slight snarl on his face while the author again holds his tail with the other hand imitating a lion’s paw
The female lion lays on her side looking contentedly at the camera while having her back rubbed by the author
No, its not a band name; though it would be a good one. Charles Bonnet Syndrome is a condition that affects many people with significant eye problems and the Kalash are a unique ethnic group residing in the far north-west of Pakistan. Here is the story of how the two met.
Kalash children with a balloon. Balloons and the exquisite outfits always catch my eye
Charles Bonnet Syndrome (CBS) is a condition that affects many people who have suffered vision loss for a variety of reasons including glaucoma, cataracts, diabetic retinopathy, damage to the optic pathway and most notably macular and retina problems. The symptoms of CBS are a series of complex visual hallucinations or phantom visions which range from coloured blobs, dots, lines, shapes, patterns such as web or lattice type images, flashing lights, flowers, figures, faces, animals, buildings and landscapes. Some people report seeing figures in hats and wearing ‘eastern dress’, not to dissimilar to the outfits worn by the Kalash. They can be abstract in nature but at times also super-real. Importantly, these hallucinations are not linked with any other senses such as sounds, taste or smell and occur in people who are mentally sound. Generally speaking, the experiencer knows that these visions are not real but the experience of them is very real.
I have played around with ‘colour in’pictures overlayed with a ‘test pattern’ to try and convey CBS hallucinations and to have some fun with the syndrome. The test pattern motif is fitting as the colourful CBS hallucinations I experience are the things you see when other parts of vision are not working properly
The hallucinations seem to be a product of sensory deprivation due to significant vision loss leading to the firing of neurons within the visual system creating phantom images. More research in this area needs to be done though.
Previous, professional statements indicated that these hallucinations only lasted a short amount of time; days, months and sometimes up to four years but this idea seems to be changing as more research goes into the condition. It would be even better if health professionals actually listened to those with the condition.
It is hard to know exactly what percentage of those with vision loss experience CBS as it is under reported by sufferers as many think at first it may be linked to mental illness. Health professionals, especially specialists of the visual and psychological fields, are also often unaware of the syndrome or choose to ignore it, thus it is also under diagnosed. Thankfully the stigma around CBS is slowly melting away as health professionals and sufferers discuss it and begin to understand it better.
An example of a CBS hallucination that I have experienced
I have had CBS since August 2001 after a retinal haemorrhage. Thankfully I generally don’t see images of people, faces, animals etc. My experience of it is largely restricted to coloured patterns, dots, lines and geometric shapes. These images are constantly changing and moving throughout the day and their general nature has changed over the years as I have experienced more vision loss as a result of glaucoma and retina problems, some bought about by many surgeries. Initially I mainly saw a circular image with lines radiating out, a bit like a target or a psychedelic dart board. Now I see more random shapes and swirls, dots and lines. It is a very hard thing to describe with words.
The colours and shapes can be at times intense; quite ‘psychedelic’ but don’t go thinking it is a fun psychedelic experience as they can be very frustrating, especially because they further obscure already limited vision. For example, having low vision means it is already difficult to see peoples’ faces properly and very hard to read body or facial language. When the CBS visions are intense faces dissapear completely, instead appearing as a colourful,swirling mess. This can be very, very off putting whihle trying to hold a conversation. Still I try to look the person in the eye, or where I assume the eyes would be and carry on.
Starry Night, by Vincent Van Gogh
I have used Van Gogh’s Starry Night painting to try and convey my hallucinations due to its vibrant colours and depiction of swirling shapes and lights. Interestingly it is now believed that Van Gogh himself may have had retina problems and possibly CBS, unfortunately for him the professionals of the day merely called him mad.
My version of Stary Night. I have used ‘colour in’ pictures with added colour to play with and represent the idea of Charles Bonnet Syndrome hallucinations
Cave paintings and other forms of indigenous art such as those done by Australian Aborigines with their coloured lines and dots are similar to what I have experienced and cave art by the Chumash Indians of California are particularly akin to what I see and have seen as a result of CBS.
A depiction of some cart art done by the Chumash tribe of California. The circles with lines image in the bottom left is very similar to the first hallucinations I experienced with CBS. The other images are also very similar to those that I have and do see. Only difference is that I would add brighter colours
There are currently no recognised treatments for CBS. The best way to deal with the symptoms is to recognise and understand that they are a result of vision loss and not the loss of mental health. For this reason I hope more health professionals become aware of CBS and are prepared to discuss it with patients. I also encourage those who experience CBS to talk about it with their friends and family and to educate health professionals about the syndrome. When discussing it with health professionals, especially those in the psychological field, I recommend being armed with some literature or Internet links about it so that they can see it is a real thing. I have had the unpleasant experience of bringing it up with health professionals only for them to react in a way that made it appear they thought I was crazy. If you do have CBS and have this experience stay strong and remember that the ignorance rests with them and not with you and encourage them to read about it for themselves.
Like bigfoot, it can be hard to tell if CBS hallucinations are real but for those that experience or see them there is no doubt that the condition is real
Kalash woman and one of our hosts while in the Kalash Valleys
The Kalash ethnic group of north-west Pakistan are not a hallucination. They are very real and trace their origins back to members of Alexander the Great’s army who decided to stay and populate with the locals when they were in what is now the regions of northern Pakistan and Afghanistan.
The Kalash, who have their own language Kalasha, are unique in their geographic region in that they do not follow the religion of Islam (though some have converted to Islam at varying times). Their religious beliefs have variously been described as animistic, pagan and a form of ancient Hinduism however it is best to view their beliefs as Kalash. They revere numerous gods, goats and environmental places, particularly river sources. I am by no means an expert on their religious views so feel free to do further research or perhaps ask the Kalash themselves. They are very open minded in regards to religion, treating other people’s beliefs and customs with the respect they would like shown to theirs.
A goat’s head and wood carvings adorn a Kalash temple
Unlike their Muslim neighbours, the Kalash don’t view consumption of alcohol as a taboo. In this aspect they are more akin to the Greek heritage they claim with most households making their own wine from local grapes. Red and white wine is on offer as is a stronger concoction. We were randomly invited into a house while walking to share some of the white wine which went down particularly well with the goat cheese that was offered. Of course, the conversation with the gentleman who invited us in was the highlight of the feast as he told us about the problems of living in such an isolated location but also highlighted his proudness of being part of the Kalash community. The hospitable nature of the Kalash towards visitors cannot be questioned.
The Kalash are perhaps most famous for the strikingly colourful attire worn by the females. Home made outfits featuring brightly coloured motifs on a black background is accentuated by dizzyingly colourful patterned head dresses and jewellery.
A Kalash woman outside her house
It is these outfits that for me initially linked the Kalash with Charles Bonnet Syndrome. When set amongst the dusty villages they stand out like a CBS hallucination. The brightly coloured outfits, or cheos, are adorned with imagery ranging from patterns of lines and geometric shapes to flowers and much more that escapes my eyes. The head-dresses, or kupas, in particular remind me of CBS hallucinations being adorned with seemingly abstract, but no doubt full of meaning to them, patterns of lines, dots and geometric shapes of a multitude of colours. To me, they are CBS visions come to life and celebrated in a riot of colours and patterns. Cowrie shells, beads and buttons are used to great effect to make these head-dresses.
The Kalash are also known to decorate their traditional homes, temples and other buildings with wood carvings. One I saw in a few places was an image of an eye with slanted lines on either side; this motif of an eye surrounded by lines immediately made me think of the CBS experience.
An example of the beautiful and colourful head-dresses worn by the Kalash women
The fact that the Kalash people have managed to retain their culture despite a rapidly changing world and with the pressures that arise from living in the geographic and geopolitical region they do is testament to their strength. They are proud of their heritage and culture and don’t plan on changing to suit anyone else. The attitude of ‘live and let live’ is one which they follow and should be congratulated for. Isolation in the valleys of the rugged and seemingly inhospitable Hindu Kush mountains has helped this but even as they become more connected with the outside world they seem adamant to hold onto their culture and I sincerely hope these unique people are successful in that endeavour.
Kalash woman and child, ensuring their beautiful culture lives on
Those with CBS also need to find this inner strength to overcome the symptoms of the condition. That and understanding are the only real treatment we currently have.
As I mentioned, CBS can be a very frustrating experience and this is where my experiences with CBS and the Kalash are also linked. I was fortunate enough to visit the Kalash Valleys recently and while the people themselves were not frustrating, quite friendly actually, my experience there was.
I had hoped to take many photographs of the Kalash, not just the amazing outfits but their way of life and lives in general but this endeavour proved largely just out of reach, like CBS hallucinations themselves. I had the travellers curse of an upset stomach and the need to not venture too far from the toilet which made exploring the area difficult and uncomfortable but even more frustrating was the fact that we had to have armed security with us at all times during our visit. Being so close to Afghanistan makes this somewhat understandable but personally it seemed to be a bit of overkill. At all times in the Kalash Valleys and all over Pakistan, we were made to feel very safe and secure; the people themselves always look out for visitors making sure they are treated well. People with smiles are much better at offering a feeling of security than people with guns. Having an armed guard made us feel uncomfortable and I believe stopped locals from approaching us for a conversation. The police guards we had were both very friendly and did their best to show us the highlights of the region we may otherwise have missed but due to not having a shared language it was hard to converse, creating even more awkwardness.
I was also seemingly struck with the ‘camera curse’ in that when the best opportunities for photos emerged I stupidly didn’t have my camera at hand and when I did ask for permission to take pictures of some of the family we were staying with in one of the villages my camera didn’t want to play ball or I dialled in the wrong settings. I did however manage to snap some pictures which is great as it was hard for me to see and properly appreciate the outfits and the villages in person but I can use my photographs and computer to better see them.
‘Camera curse’. There is a beautiful image in there somewhere but like CBS visions it is not quite right
Not getting the photographs I would have liked is certainly not the end of the world, in fact it is a good reminder not to view people merely as photographs and to view them as human beings. Visiting the area and talking to the people we did meet was still a rewarding experience even if it was frustrating at times. Just the same as doing my best to see past my CBS hallucinations is rewarding while also being frustrating.
We had a great day exploring villages, eating, listening to local music and generally hanging out with Ishfaq while in the Kalash Valleys. Whilst Muslim rather than Kalash, Ishfaq and his Kalash friends provide a good example of how people can happily live together and appreciate each other despite cultural differences
If you get the chance, visit the Kalash Valleys for yourself. Don’t be put of by my frustrations as they are just that; mine. It is a unique and beautiful part of the world and well worth the effort to visit. Hopefully the security situation in that part of the world will improve so that tourists can be more independent and more importantly so that the Kalash, and everyone in the region, can continue to live their lives and practice their culture without fear.
If you get the chance to see CBS hallucinations yourself pass that opportunity up! Life is better with clear vision. If you or someone you know does have Charles Bonnet Syndrome talk about it with friends, family and health professionals, the best thing we can do is raise awareness of the condition to ensure it is better understood and diagnosed so that those with it and those around them aren’t left wondering. And remember, be strong and keep in mind that there are may of us out there with it and we are not crazy; we just see things a little bit different than most people.
This painting, Adam’s Expulsion from Eden, always reminds me of the visual and emotional effects of CBS. The disc image is very similar to a recurring CBS vision I experience and the cracked or latticed sky in the background is also very familiar
A Kalsh cemetary. Bodies were traditionally left above ground while nature took its course with the bones then placed in open coffins. More Kalash are now buried underground as outsiders vandalise or steal remains. Such places should always be respected. I only took photographs after being repeatedly encouraged given permission by locals
A great video about Charles Bonnet Syndrome by Oliver Sacks
