I have a new favourite site that I’ve spent a fair amount of time on, JPG Magazine. it’s positioning is made clear by it’s tag line: "JPG Magazine is about imagemaking without attitude". I’ve had a great time looking at other peoples work and some of the stories (mostly Photo Essay) have kept me reading and looking at the accompanying photos for hours. What is becoming obvious to me is that I don’t have a critical eye. I likes what I like.
There is one Photo Essay that really grabbed my attention, at first I clicked on the link because of what is going on in Kenya right now. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, shame on you. Ellen McManus spent some time in Kenya and submitted her story (short) and photos (not nearly enough) to JPG Magazine. One photo (shown here) in particular just broke my heart. It’s labelled Gibson’s tears. It also made me think back to a business trip I did to Kenya early last year. I assisted a newspaper to launch a new business news web site using Open Source Software. I reflected on how different mine and Ellen’s experiences must have been. I spent my time in a bubble. I stayed in a compound of businessman apartments, had supper at 5 star hotels and worked in an office block that would not be out of place in downtown Johannesburg. I did walk around a bit during lunch time times but all I saw was hardworking people doing business, shopping and getting on with things. I met some amazing people who I keep in contact with via FaceBook once in a while. The trip was fun and educational on many levels, but it didn’t change my life, and I regret that. I now wish I had seen more.
The only real memories I have of the trip are:
- One evening while heading back to my apartment in a taxi two police men jumped in and started to order the driver to drive around while they joked with him and completely ignored me. I had visions of ending up in a cell for some reason and never seeing my wife again, but after 20 minutes they asked me where I was going and then told the driver to drop me off. I asked the driver what was going on as he helped me get my bag out the boot of the car and he said his tires were smooth and he’d have to spend the night in jail but will be okay. I admit to have been very nervous.
- When I arrived in Nairobi I was struck by how clean the city was. I was also amazed by the number of vendors that sold things amongst the traffic while driving in from the airport. It seemed you could buy anything while sitting in some enormous traffic jams. One particular vendor locked onto me, and no matter what I said he wouldn’t leave. The slow rate of traffic meant he could stroll next to the car and show me every one of his 100s of pirated porn DVDs, with a justification as to why each one was unique and exactly what I was looking for. My driver thought it was hysterical.
- The drivers in Nairobi make our minibus taxi drivers look like rank amateurs.
- I saw no aggression what so ever.
I want to go back there and spend more time getting to know the people and the country. I want make sure that the people I met there are okay. I want see for myself if an African country can move past this trap that we keep on falling into. I want to meet Gibson and just see if he has stopped crying and maybe just hold him for a while.