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.
