If They Ask [Antigua, Guatemala]
I like nothing better than to wander side streets of a new place, camera in hand, at my own pace, my full concentration focused on capturing whatever captures my mind’s eye. For taking photographs has always been a way for me to understand the world around me and to share that understanding with others.
Sometimes, this initial understanding happens subconciously. Consciously, I just go through the motions: choose a shutter speed, an aperture, compose the elements within the frame; click.
As I walked down a side street in Antigua, cherishing the wonderfully warm light of early sunset, I rounded a corner and came upon these two boys. That eye of mine in my mind yelled, “Stop! Take a photo.” I knelt down and took this picture first, almost didn’t take it, annoyed that the boy on the right kept pushing himself into the frame, while I really wanted to take a picture of the boy playing the flute. I finally put down the camera and motioned that I only wanted to take a picture of the flute payer. I took a few, got back to my feet, smiled a smile thanking them, and turned to continue on. The other boy deftly inserted himself in my path, hand held out, mumbling “money, money.” I gave him a couple of quetzals. He moved aside, and I wandered on, pleased to have captured photos of the flute player.
What was that all about?
When I returned to my office, and began to edit photos from the trip, I was surprised to see how uninteresting the photos of the flute player were, yet how interesting (to me at least) was this photo of both the boys, the other boy’s hand extended well into the frame in a universal beggar’s plea. This was the real photo, the one that had worked its way into the back of my mind. Now it began to slowly move up the queue of thoughts seeking my full attention. Here was yet another image of begging, though this time, one with beggars of a different sort. These boys were clean, well dressed, one musically talented, the other with significantly developed asking skills. They certainly weren’t homeless. They didn’t look like their lives depended on a next meal. They didn’t smell. Here were two young, ambitious boys, trained actors, skilled at the art of benefitting from the good graces and compassion of others. They were dupers.
Yet they asked. “If they ask...”
Sometimes, this initial understanding happens subconciously. Consciously, I just go through the motions: choose a shutter speed, an aperture, compose the elements within the frame; click.
As I walked down a side street in Antigua, cherishing the wonderfully warm light of early sunset, I rounded a corner and came upon these two boys. That eye of mine in my mind yelled, “Stop! Take a photo.” I knelt down and took this picture first, almost didn’t take it, annoyed that the boy on the right kept pushing himself into the frame, while I really wanted to take a picture of the boy playing the flute. I finally put down the camera and motioned that I only wanted to take a picture of the flute payer. I took a few, got back to my feet, smiled a smile thanking them, and turned to continue on. The other boy deftly inserted himself in my path, hand held out, mumbling “money, money.” I gave him a couple of quetzals. He moved aside, and I wandered on, pleased to have captured photos of the flute player.
What was that all about?
When I returned to my office, and began to edit photos from the trip, I was surprised to see how uninteresting the photos of the flute player were, yet how interesting (to me at least) was this photo of both the boys, the other boy’s hand extended well into the frame in a universal beggar’s plea. This was the real photo, the one that had worked its way into the back of my mind. Now it began to slowly move up the queue of thoughts seeking my full attention. Here was yet another image of begging, though this time, one with beggars of a different sort. These boys were clean, well dressed, one musically talented, the other with significantly developed asking skills. They certainly weren’t homeless. They didn’t look like their lives depended on a next meal. They didn’t smell. Here were two young, ambitious boys, trained actors, skilled at the art of benefitting from the good graces and compassion of others. They were dupers.
Yet they asked. “If they ask...”
posted by Rick Albertson at 7:26 AM
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