The old men had gathered to celebrate a wedding. Two men in their twenties; a bunch of young boys and girls some distance away. The women were elsewhere. As we left, the old men began singing, dancing slowly. In a decade or two, these rituals might be nothing more than memories; the stories those young boys and girls laughing and playing over there in the shade might tell their children. "I remember one day when the old men were at the wedding a foreigner arrived. He had long pale hair and a big camera. Now we don't get married like that. No one knows how to do the ceremonies properly anymore. But there are lots more foreigners."
All content © 2008 Pete McGregor
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6 comments:
I have not commented on all your photographs individually, but I hope you might realise that I return to them many times, and see different aspects every time. The textures are particularly beautiful. It's a look into another world from grey, cold England.
However, I still need that book!
Whew! This man has lived long and experienced much.
Oh yes, I'm sure he has! I'd love to sit down with some of these old guys (probably over a glass of something barely drinkable and liver-crippling) and listen to their stories. But they speak no English, and I had only a handful of words of the local language. Only one of my two companions that day spoke a little English, and I struggled to make sense of that; just enough to understand what was going on.
R.R., thank you! It's a good feeling, knowing my photos are appreciated and bring warmth in a cold climate. And as for the book, er,... keep prodding me, please.
Hello,
I found your beautiful photographs while goggling while exploring various textile images from India.
Want to say thank you, for each and every marvelous shot!
You're welcome, rochambeau. I'm glad you appreciated them :^)
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