One last adventure in Braslav

I’m in Abu Dhabi airport on a 12-hour layover. There’s really no better time to reflect on my most recent and final adventure in Belarus, before I head back to Sydney.

With a bit less than a week till my flight I decided that it’ll be a real pity not to visit the Braslav region one last time. When Yuri Ivanych, my friend in Braslav told me that I’d be able to see how the same fishermen brigade which I already photographed works in winter, I was sold on one last visit, much to the dismay of my family in Minsk, and Tanya – my wife.

The main reason was their concern for my driving ability in winter time. After my small car crash in Poland I had a bigger accident the day before New Year’s Eve. Again  – very slippery road, which looked deceitfully decent, I decided to overtake a very slow moving car, but even about 60km/per hour was enough to land my vehicle into a barrier, down a small hill and into a field. A tractor pulled me out and one of those “evacuator” vehicles got the car all the way back to Minsk, as it was not driveable. The story had a happy ending, since no one was hurt and everything was solvable, but understandably my family was concerned.

In any case, I hired a car again and went to Braslav. Luckily everything went very smoothly as far as driving this time, I think I learned my lessons.

Now to the fishermen. The shoot was a dream and a nightmare at the same time. I always wanted to shoot in the winter, in the snow. But that day it was minus 20 Celsius! I will say first of all that the gear held up incredibly well. I shot with the Canon 5D MKII, 20mm f1.8 Sigma and 24-70 f2.8 Canon lenses, I didn’t expect any problems with those, what surprised me was the battery. I filled a 16GB card with stills and even a few videos, the battery still had 28% of life left, I decided to change it simply to avoid missing an important shot when it would finally go flat.

I don’t know how I would rank my own performance. I was in the cold for about 5 hours straight and another two with breaks in a pretty warm car. It’s tough working in such weather. You can’t shoot without gloves, you lose sense of your fingers very quickly, the wind feels like it burns your face and when the sun goes down, staying for a couple of minutes without movement makes your teeth rattle from the cold.

I was not greatly equipped, as far as cold-proof gear for this one, but my friend was impressed with the way I tolerated the conditions. I have to say – it was a great experience, but I won’t be too sad if I don’t have another one like it for a while.

When the fishermen finally pulled out the net, which they managed to spread out under the ice, they didn’t end up with much. Parts of the ice cut the net in a few places and a lot of the fish was lost. Tough day for these guys, they were at the lake for much longer than me and managed to handle it like just another work-day.

At the end me, Yuri Ivanych and the National park driver drove across the frozen lake. In a very timely manner I was told that 10 years ago a jeep went under at about this time of the year, taking four passengers with it. I was advised to hold on to the door handle, to open it and jump, in case the ice cracks. I thought it was a joke, but after seeing Yuri Ivanych holding on to the door handle at the back I realised it wasn’t. The driver joked – if you two are holding on to the handles, what the hell am I meant to do? – Hold on to the wheel! Joked Yuri Ivanych.

A large hole is made in the ice. On one end fishermen cast a net into the hole.

On the other end, fishermen make holes in the ice and use ropes to capture the net and spread it out. The net is pulled by hand at first and later with the help of a motor and a horse.

The working conditions are very manual labour intensive, but things weren’t actually this way before. I was told by the fishermen who have been in the “business” for a while that there was more machinery involved during the Soviet times. Tractors did the job of horses and humans. Now it is unclear where the resources are going, one thing for sure the job hasn’t become any easier.

This man has been with the fishermen brigade for a very long time. When I asked him “How’s life?” after arriving, he replied – “Life? What kind of life is this? I’m so sick of this shit, I’ve been doing it for 36 years! It’s f—cking cold out here!” I asked him why he did the job. His reply- “What else is there to do?”

Not all fishermen lack enthusiasm though. The much younger Leonid, despite his frozen moustache tells me that the work isn’t so bad. He’s used to working because he has a big family and “many mouths to feed”. I asked him about the cold. “You don’t feel it while you work, while you move around, it’s not too bad here, if only someone could wipe the snot off my nose, then it would be perfect.” He jokes.

A fisherman puts a rope in the water then stirs it around with a stick to defrost it. His dog, watches on. She followed her owner and stayed by his side in the blistering cold for the entire day.

The only light comes from the car’s head-lights, however, usually there’s even less light than you see. The car’s lights were only switched-on after my begging, pleading and explaining that I won’t be able to photograph anything without them, at least that helped the fishermen a bit too. I’ve said it before, it’s a tough life. Their salary is about 180,000 Belarussian Rubles per month, that’s a bit over US$60.

That’s all for now. My next post will be from home, for the first time in about 5 months.

Greetings from the Holy Land!

Hi folks, it’s been a long time since my last post and in case you’re thinking that I’ve been buried somewhere in the snows of cold Belarus, you’re wrong. 🙂

I’m actually in Israel. It’s not a random trip, I’ve had family living here for a while and it was time for a way overdue visit. I won’t get into all the personal details, but rather keep it photography related. A couple of days back I’ve managed to do something I’ve wanted to do for quite a while – go back to Jerusalem.

I visited the “Holy City” in the past, when I was about 13 (with my parents). As a teenager, I was raised  on Christian beliefs and was familiar enough with the Bible to know the significance of Jerusalem. Even back then it felt special.

These days I’m not attached to any religion, but having been exposed to other faiths and life-experiences, I can appreciate the city more than ever before. In reality it’s hard not to appreciate Jerusalem. The old town’s ancient architecture, labyrinth-like streets, bustling markets and hordes of devotees of all races, colours and faiths make it a city like no other on Earth. The closest thing I’ve experienced to Jerusalem was travelling through the old cities of Rajasthan, India, but even they don’t match Jerusalem’s incredible diversity.

I spent most of my time around the famous symbols of the world’s dominant religions – the Church of Holy Sepulchre, the Wailing Wall and the Golden Dome Mosque. That’s where the images you see here are from.

Mine and Tanya’s stay was made much more special thanks to meeting a talented photographer and a super nice dude named – Sasson Haviv. I got in touch with him on the photography site 1X.com a while back and after I randomly emailed him and told him that I was gonna be in Jerusalem, Sasson was all too happy to meet and hang out. He helped me gain an insider’s view, which is something I treasure whenever I go somewhere new. You can check out some of Sasson’s images right HERE.

An Ethiopian priest enters “The Church of the Holy Sepulchre”. The church became one of the favourite photographic places I’ve been in. There’s a lot happening, there’s a great variety of faces, the light is different in different places and at different times of the day. You can just sit in one spot, people-watch and wait for something photo-worthy to happen.

A priest blesses a devotee. I shot this image at the same spot as the photo above, but a bit later on in the day and obviously from a different angle. It’s possible to spend weeks here.

Two Orthodox nuns absorbing a passage from the Bible. Still the same area, but the opposite side by the entrance to the church.

A Greek Orthodox priest changes oil in the lamps above the stone-plate where Jesus’ body is said to have been prepared for burial.

A  crowd of devotees around the Holy Sepulchre / The Tomb of Christ. There seems to always be a crowd around it. As holy as the place may be, this is where I saw the less magical side of the church. The person in charge of directing the crowd, usually a monk would tell everyone when it’s time to get out . He’d commonly say – “Hey, come on, you don’t get one hour here, move on!” He would also knock back those who try to squeeze-in without waiting in line. I saw an elderly Russian couple say “Can you please let us through, we are pilgrims.” The answer – “Guess, what? Everyone’s a pilgrim here, get in line!” At one stage the crowd started to get out of control and the monk started screaming almost uncontrollably for them to get back, I guess it was time for desperation.

Just by the tomb  is where I continuously saw Russian tourists/pilgrims obsessively burn the fuses of candles which they had bought in the church or brought with them (such is the tradition and it makes the candles blessed in a way). They would buy whole bags of them and would greedily burn the candle-fuses, one bunch after another. Well, at least that gave me a chance to get some shots.

Devotees praying at the “Wailing Wall”. I have to admit, I know relatively little about Judaism, perhaps that was one of the main reasons I felt less comfortable  shooting at the wall. Ok, that and the fact that thousands of tourists photograph these same people here every day, thus annoying the heck out of the them. There’s about a 50/50 percent chance that you’ll be asked to stop. It’s a tricky situation, because when you see someone in a moment of religious ecstasy, doing the “decent” thing and asking is not necessarily an option. If I had more time, I would come back and do what Sasson does – make friends with some of the worshippers and get their consent before shooting in a more intimate way.

There’s no shortage of knowledge by the Wailing Wall. In the undercover area to the left religious books are aplenty and you always see someone looking for something or putting a book back on the shelf.

Female soldiers rehearsing for “the end of army service” ceremony by the “Wailing Wall”. The sight of women in army uniforms and with guns is quite unusual for most people around the world, but it’s just an everyday occurrence in Israel. When I came across the scene I couldn’t resist shooting quite a few frames. It is funny that despite such seemingly serious duty, the girls (who are all probably in very early 20s) joked around, made bored faces, occasionally made faces at me and one even stuck out her butt for the camera.

There is the ever-present contrast of the religious and the secular in Jerusalem.

View of Jerusalem from the side of the Golden Dome Mosque.

Morning around the Golden Dome Mosque.

At the market by Old Jerusalem’s Damascus Gate.

Thanks to Sasson we were able to get into this bakery after-hours and take some photos of these two Palestinian brothers at work. They were real nice guys. After we finished shooting, we were offered some of the sweetest tea I’ve ever drank, not necessarily a good thing, but a a sign of the famous Middle-Eastern hospitality Sasson told me about.

In this place Palestinian men enjoy a smoke of their pipes and play cards. I was quickly told that some of the older, more classy pipes cost as much as 2500 Euros. One of the guys collected them and said that when he smokes his expensive pipe the experience is as great as being with a beautiful woman.

That’s all from me for now. I’ll be flying back to Belarus in a couple of days, I hear it might be –30C by then! Aaah!!!

Summing up my trip and some ideas for the new year

My Eastern Europe trip’s over. For the first time in a long while I am actually happy that a trip has ended. Perhaps it’s because I am still not completely home, but in Belarus, and in some way the journey is still continuing.

My incredible bad luck continued on the Poland to Belarus road. I had my first ever car crash of a sort when I went over a pile of snow, slightly lost control of the car and then totally lost control when I pushed the brakes (not the best idea to push the brakes). Luckily there was one of those barriers along the highway that separates lanes from each other, that’s what the car hit, first with the front bumper then after sliding and doing a 180° turn, with the back.

We weren’t going too fast and there was almost no traffic, so we ended up unscathed and didn’t collide with anyone else. The car looked…interesting, I regret not taking photos of it now, but Tanya and I were too busy gaffer-taping the front bumper on, in – 13 C weather.

We somehow made it over the border the next day. After seeing the gaffer-taped bumper, the Belarusian border patrol jokingly asked “Is that a bumper from a BMW or yours?”. The customs people felt so sorry for us they didn’t even bother going through the trunk (which doesn’t open anymore anyway).

The important thing is that we made it back in one piece. I guess there is the argument that we were really unlucky, because of all the things that happened along the way, but on the other hand no one even thought it was possible to go to Romania and back in our little 25-year-old Volkswagen Golf. Go figure.

After spending a few days in Minsk, one of my least favorite cities in the world, we decided to go visit some friends in another city. That’s when the car died again on us. I didn’t bother fixing it this time, simply got a hire-car and drove off to Braslav, the region I passionately spoke about numerous times on my blog.

Driving in winter, especially when there are sudden weather changes is a nightmare. From the icy roads to giant puddles, it’s tough and dangerous. I’d be happy to lie low for a few days and that’s exactly what I’m doing in a friend’s countryside house (that’s a picture of it at the top of the post and those are his “pets” below). Just me Tanya, nature and my computer. 🙂 In reality I have a lot of work to catch up on and I hope that’s what I can do, while getting some peace and quiet that was missing during the constant movement around Eastern Europe.

New year is approaching and I already have plenty of exciting plans. Coming back to Braslav in the summer is one idea. It is an amazing region and perhaps my journey around the rest of Eastern Europe made me realize just how special it is.  In many ways it’s still virgin, unspoilt, a little wild even. To wander around the villages here is absolutely fascinating and often heartwarming and the natural beauty is unlike anywhere else.

I’m thinking that it may be worth doing a workshop in Braslav or perhaps even trying something new with the good friend I’ve made here (the one whose house I’m staying in) – a guided photo tour of a sort. It’ll be for those who are more comfortable with their photographic abilities and simply want to have an amazing photographic experience, rather than learn a standard workshop. If anyone thinks it’s a good idea, drop me a line or leave a comment on the blog.

Two personal trips which are close to happening:

Another trip to Indonesia and yet another trip to India. I want to buy underwater housing for my Canon 5D MKII and shoot stuff on fishermen in Indonesia. The last time there were just too many times when I was kicking myself for not having some sort of casing.

The India thing is well, India calls and when it calls you go. It seems to be calling me at least once a year, but hey, I still have only just scratched the surface of what can be done there. I’ve got a few particularly exciting things planned, but I won’t reveal too much just yet.

I like to make plans for the future, actually, it’s more like dreaming up things and then working to make them happen. It’s an amazing feeling when you realize that you are living a dream, but it all starts with nothing more than a thought, an idea. I think it’s important to have those plans/dreams, not only for photographers, but for anyone. Make those dreams achievable and then really work to realize them. It’s sort of what I’ve been doing, without having any particular idea of how to make things happen, I simply make them up, dream and somehow everything falls into place, the important thing is to set those goals for yourself. I guess the clichéd yet encouraging and true thing to say is that – if I made it happen, so can you. 🙂

So I guess before I end this blog post I’d like to ask; what are your photographic plans/dreams for the next year?

Happy new year folks! 🙂

Too many impressions – too little time

In a day or two Tanya and I go back to Belarus. Though I’ve had more bad luck and troubles on this trip than ever before, it has been a fulfilling nevertheless.

My main goal at the beginning was to visit Romania, get a taste of it and then just see and absorb as much as possible in a limited amount of time in the other countries I visit. That’s pretty much what happened. Along the way I shot some images for the stock agencies I work with, also something I wanted to do.

In a bit over two weeks I’ve been to Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Slovenia, Austria and Italy. That’s a lot of places in such a short period of time, too many for my liking usually, but this situation was the result of Tanya’s visa limitation and my curiosity outweighing the desire to concentrate on any long-term photographic work.

Just a couple of months ago, the names of the countries and cities I visited were nothing more than that – names. I guess now I have at least some associations with these names and though I don’t pretend to have gained any understanding of the places I’ve been to, I have had a glimpse into a different world, which for me only existed in pictures and guidebooks before.

I feel like I have grown a little photographically too. I understand myself a little better, I understand more what drives and inspires me and what doesn’t so much. For any creative person that’s an important thing. Essentially if we understand that, we know how to push our own buttons, to get those creative juices flowing, rather than wait for some higher power to enlighten us.

And so here’s a quick look at a few of the photos from the last few days.

The famous Szechenyi thermal baths in Budapest. The image at the top of the post is from there too, it’s kinda weird that there are people playing chess in a pool, but hey, it makes for a good photo subject. These baths are a place I wouldn’t have normally thought to bring my camera to, I wanted to enjoy them myself, but after seeing some of Ami Vitale’s images (she’s one of my fav photogs), I couldn’t resist. So I had my fun in the water and in the spas first and then went out to shoot a few frames.

People enjoying a massage from the strong stream of very warm water. Periodically the whole pool area is enveloped under the steam. I love shooting in these situations, I just wish I had a waterproof camera case to do some stuff from different perspectives.

From warm thermal baths to the cold snowy mountains of Zakopane, Poland. I’ve wanted to be at the top of snow-peak mountains for some time, but never got the chance, until now. I did it the easy way too, by cable car. 🙂

Ski chairs against a mountainous backdrop. I find ski chairs to be pretty photogenic for some reason.

The view from above was almost surreal. Part of the forest was illuminated by the sun while the other was in the shadow. It’s times like these that make me feel like there is more to photography than shooting people.

That’s all for today. My next post will probably be from Belarus. I hope it snows there and I hope my car makes it. 🙂

Postcard from Slovenia and the trials and tribulations of life on the road.

I’ve been on the road in Eastern Europe for about a month and a half now and I’m kinda tired. Perhaps it’s the road, perhaps it’s the fact that there has been relatively little photography or maybe it’s the bad weather, which has contributed to the lack of photography.

Perhaps it’s the stupid decisions I’ve made before leaving – like taking a 25 year old car on a 5000 + km journey. In Asia transport trouble often led me to make new friends and gave me a glimpse into their worlds. Believe it or not, leaving yourself vulnerable in a difficult situation can really show you what a certain culture/people is like and that can make any transport trouble pretty bearable. In the places I’ve traveled in Asia there’s always a positive aspect that emerged, sometimes something as profound as the affirmation of the great potential of human kindness. When a stern looking desert man who speaks no word of English sees you’re in trouble, goes 10 km one way and back to bring some tools to fix your motorbike and then, after all that invites you for tea and chapattis with his family, insisting that you come back for lunch, well that makes any human being with emotions almost teary eyed.

My experiences in Eastern Europe (not including Belarus) have been pretty far from anything like that. They’ve mostly been all about paying, and paying lots. The mechanic doesn’t invite you for lunch either, and doesn’t introduce you to his  family, which is obviously totally understandable, but it sure puts things into perspective. Why do people in India and Indonesia do that? Are they so much more hospitable and open to human interaction than Europeans? I guess in general, the answer is “yes” and I guess that’s why I love being there so much.

The sole exception of a sort happened in Maramures, Romania. My car’s exhaust pipe fell apart after I hit a pot-hole, there was no equipped garage nearby and the only mechanic was one with a very simple set-up. We couldn’t drive too far with the exhaust dragging on the ground and so we had to act on the spot. The mechanic had enough sympathy to understand that and came up with a solution. It was decided that everyone who was there – me, two guys I traveled with, the mechanic and his friend were gonna push the car on its’ side, so the exhaust pipe could be welded together. The four of us were slightly short of muscle power and a passing-by neighbor was asked to help. Without any hesitation he did.

We managed to sort everything out and I was back on the road, thanks to the resourcefulness of these villagers from Maramures. That was about as close as I’ve come to an Indian experience in Europe.

Why does any of this matter? It doesn’t really, if I don’t think about it, but as mentioned, I feel these situations help me put things into perspective, to appreciate the countless amazing moments that have filled my life while I’ve been traveling. They help me gain some sort of an understanding of this crazy world we live in and that in turn can’t be all that bad for my photography.

I don’t advise anyone to do what I’ve been doing – driving in a 25 year old car, I mean. But when I think about it, I got myself the best thing I could can afford at the time, the other option would be not to go at all. I’ve been my own guinea-pig, seeing how far I can go and what adventures and experiences will come my way. I did all the main things I wanted and I can’t complain about that.

Perhaps I’ve been spoilt by the kindness of the amazing strangers who have come my way in the past. Typing this in an overpriced hotel room and paying for a crappy internet connection somewhere on the Slovenian border in Italy, I’m thinking that perhaps it’s time to get back to “reality”.

Tomorrow I will see if my car is fixable. It was a little unnerving to see smoke come out from under the bonnet, you don’t need to be a mechanic to know that’s not the best sign.

My little adventure is almost over, I originally planned to return to Belarus around the middle of December, I still hope that I can drive back and not have to fly there. 🙂

The top image is from Bled, Slovenia – an unbelievably beautiful place. I was lucky enough to have a sunny day when I arrived, it was all rain and fog later. The next image is me with my car flipped on the side, while the exhaust pipe was getting welded.

Romanian adventure comes to an end.

And so, my very short adventure in Romania has come to an end. It was not anywhere near long enough to even scratch the surface here photographically, but I did get a glimpse into a couple of regions in this fascinating country.

The last stop was Maramures, a region which I heard hadn’t changed much over the past couple of centuries.  Perhaps it was silly to believe this, but for some reason I did or perhaps just hoped that it would be true.

In reality Maramures was both – as amazing as I thought it might be and at the same time more visually abhorring than I could have imagined. It seems that in Eastern Europe things change even faster than in Asia and just as is the case with Asia, progress here is not a thing of beauty.

For whatever reason those who have been denied prosperity for so long seem to have a very crass way of showing that prosperity once they obtain it, with disregard for anything that existed before them. Traditional villages of wooden houses which seem to have been built in harmony with the landscape with consideration for the surroundings are very  few and far between in most of Maramures these days. They are being knocked down, replaced with huge (and I mean huge) brick and cement structures, which have about as much character as you might expect a concrete slab to have.

This “modernization” thing is a story I’ve seen throughout my travels around different countries. I don’t know how it ends, but I do feel that it’s very worthwhile for a photographer to capture what hasn’t been swallowed up by the so called progress. Luckily in Maramures a little bit of magic still remains. While many of the people are living in the soulless structures, they themselves haven’t lost their souls, nor what makes them visually unique to other Europeans. Perhaps most pleasantly, a lot of them are just as kind and as hospitable as their parents must have taught them to be.

I was reminded a little of India, when the locals almost forced their hospitality upon us, only in India the hospitality takes on the form of tea and food, while in Maramures you have to drink their toxic home-made “Tsuika”, a 50 + degree alcoholic beverage, strong enough to burn a whole in your stomach. After drinking five or six shots of it in the first day I decided that in reply to future offers it would be better for  me to drink a tiny bit of it, make a face and say that it is too strong for people from my country, which is not far from the truth.

I would have liked my trip to Maramures to have felt like a trip into a different world, into the past. It wasn’t quite like that, but as I drove my car through the mountains to the Hungarian border, passing old cattle herders in traditional hats, women collecting hay in their unique attires, all while being surrounded by some of the more dramatic scenery one is likely to encounter, I realized – Maramures is still special. It’s not what I wanted it to be, but that doesn’t make it any less special in relation to the rest of the world.

Here are some images of what still remains of the magical Maramures.

Sheep on their way to be herded up in the hills.

That’s the view the shepherd has when he herds the village’s sheep.

We met this man during a foggy afternoon in a small house, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I asked if we could take a few photos of him outside. He agreed. As I fired off a few frames, he kept asking – “Am I really that f—ing cool? Is that why you’re photographing me? I mean there are so many other people, but you chose me! I must be something special!”

The man had quite a few “tsuikas” and just before he left he decided to chase the dog around. The dog was surprised.

At the same place we found this great, young character. I loved his attire – a child’s sweater with an image of a sheep and a grown man’s suit and trousers.

A village woman after feeding her piglets. The villagers of Maramures are very proud of their animals and gladly show them to anyone half-interested.

Vlad, one of my traveling companions and I met this elder at the front of his traditional house. We asked if we could come inside and see what it’s like. He let us in and posed for a few photographs. He’s 88 years old and all alone, so I think he was happy to chat to us for a while.

Magical morning in the hills. It’s foggy almost every day during this time of year. When it’s not cloudy, the scenery can be rather special.

Morning at the cattle market.

Village woman chopping up pumpkins.

I feel a world away from Romania as I type this entry from my room in Krakow, Poland. It’s been a frustrating couple of days since I left Romania, as I had a lot of my things stolen from my car during my overnight stay in Bratislava, Slovakia. Luckily most of the photography related stuff was with me in the hostel room, but I did have to search all of Krakow for a new battery charger for my Canon 5D MKII.

Tomorrow I hit the road again. After being re-united with my dear wife we have decided to drive to Slovenia. If my car makes it, that’s where I’ll be for the next few days.

That’s all for now.

Holbav – a trip into the past

I finally got a chance to shoot what I wanted, the way I wanted in a small Transylvanian village called Holbav. That’s where the photo of me in the oxen cart was taken (last post).

Though Holbav is only about 20km away from Brasov (the region’s largest city) it is a world away in terms of everything else.  Not much would have changed here over the last 100 years or so. Incredibly, there is still no electricity, no running water and none of the other comforts taken for granted in the “modern” Europe. In other words in many ways the village is representative of what a lot of Romania must have been like a long while ago. This is exactly what I wanted to photograph.

My time in Holbav, though very short, was intense. There are times when I want to limit what I know about a place. I think not knowing helps me to be open to only the positive aspects and to concentrate purely on my photography. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case here.

It’s a long story not worth getting into on the blog, but the bottom line is, I found out too much. That the place is not perfect, that life there is hard and the hardships sometimes have a negative impact on people, naturally. Though my experience was 99% great, being aware of the brute, savage and cruel qualities that occasionally come out of the local population was not something I wanted.

In any case, here are some images from this fascinating village.

Dominicu collecting hay, which had been drying for a couple of weeks prior.

Tony packing hay for winter storage.

Ioan and his oxen. Apparently they are pretty old. Ioan used voice commands and beat the crap out of them to get the desired results. It was often a pitiful scene, which is better communicated through video, which I also made, but cannot share until I reach a fast internet connection.

I don’t remember this old gentleman’s name, though I met him twice. He was a lovely fellow, but sure looked like he was drinking a lot, the second time I saw him.

No electricity means that kerosene lamps. replace light-bulbs. Here Ioan hangs the lamp on one of the few hooks that exist around his house.

Next stop – Maramures – supposedly it’s a photographer’s paradise in many ways. We’ll see. 🙂

The elders of Braslavschina

I am getting ready to drive from Belarus to Romania via Poland, Slovakia and Hungary, but here’s a post before I go.

I’ve said goodbye to Braslavschina, the region which I fell in love with over my time there. Well, it’s goodbye for at least a month and a half, not forever. 🙂

There are a few things which I absolutely love about Braslavschina, but it should come as no surprise that for a photographer of people the best part of any journey is the interaction with the locals. The locals I enjoyed interacting with in particular are the elders of Braslavschina, the fascinating men and women who despite living such tough lives, often even in their old age, remain so generally positive and even naive in the sense that they are pure of the cynicism that fills the world in which they live.

I often heard different variations of the same phrase from the older generation in Braslavschina. “Our lives used to be so difficult before, now everything is so much easier. It’s possible to really live now, pity there’s not much living left.” They would say this with a somewhat sad smile, but a smile nevertheless.

In any case, here are some of the elders of Braslavschina which I had the pleasure to meet and chat with.

We met these two ladies along the road. I simply couldn’t resist the scene, stopped my car and approached this “trio”. I asked where they were heading and got a pretty hilarious reply – “We’re taking the goat to his girlfriend.” Said the woman in the dark coat. “Yes, we’re taking the goat so he can have sex”. Said the woman in red and giggled. It turned out that they were sisters and Yulia, the one in the dark coat, with the bicycle was a pretty fascinating character. We hung out with her a bit, talked and took some more photos.

Yulia is 76 years old, she used to work at the stables when she was young and says that she knows everything there is to know about horses. I was a little shocked when she lifted her leg like this to put the reigns on one of her own horses.

Speaking of horses, Edward was looking for two horses that his grandson had tied up somewhere in the area not far from his home. When I approached, he had actually mistaken me for one of those horses. At 86 he lost most of his sight and almost all of his hearing too. Not a good combination. I told him that his horses where nowhere in sight and then after driving ahead realized that they were about 200 meters behind a patch a location which Edward had no chance of arriving at by himself. We drove Edward to the horses, expecting that he wanted to take them home for the night. All the wanted to do however, was feed one of them apples and check that everything was fine.

Father Timothy, (also pictured at the top of the post) worked as an engineer in the government collective farming system most of his life. By chance he had learned some old Russian language as a child and remembered some prayers from the “Old Russian Orthodox Faith”. When the church father passed away, Timothy was approached by the local devotees to take on the responsibility of leading the prayers. After a year of studying (at the age of 65) and leading prayers he was blessed by the “Old Russian Orthodox” Church and sworn in as a Father himself. We had a good chat with Father Timothy, what impressed me most about him was his openness and lack of religious fanaticism. He said: “What happens in the afterlife? I doubt that anyone of us will know the answer while we’re here. I always say that the most important thing is to lead a decent life, and the rest will take care of itself.”

Though we spent almost an hour chatting to this kind old lady, we never got her name. The wheel in the corner is still used for weaving and at the time of our visit she had actually begun to weave socks for her grandson who visited her every now and then. The dog on the bed is named “Bobik” that name is about the equivalent of Fido in the English-speaking world. She said that Bobik was lucky to be let in indoors. He quickly jumped on the bed and made himself comfortable. Good for me, I feel he adds to the shot.

That’s all for now folks. The next time you’ll hear from me, I’ll be…don’t even know where.