Day 6, Saturday, March 8
Saturdays are normally designated as
Saturday Specials where all the kids come from the surrounding areas
to play games, eat and just generally have a good time outside of the
slum area. Today, however, is “International Women's Day”, an
annual event where over 600 women come from all over then area and
the surrounding villages. I would have to estimate there were well
over 600 women, kids and men there. Lots of music, activities, and
food. All of us volunteers were there to great them as they entered.
Of course, with camera in hand, I set off into the massive crowds
and started asking if I could take photos. Once the first shot was
taken, I was surrounded everywhere I went. I took over 200 photos
today – and, looking at them now, I can honestly say that in this
batch I have some of the most amazing photos I have ever taken I in
my life.
The eyes; deep, dark, intense. I had
heard a rumor of a little girl with blue eyes; with the thousands of
little girls running around, what were the odds of finding her. And
then, there she was (or perhaps there are more than one). I captured
her with her mother and some other ladies. I asked if I could take
her photo individually. Then I moved in for the close-up. The end
result was more than I could have asked for. Her face against the
back-drop of colorful saris; those piercing blue eyes clear and
brilliant.
A little further on, a mother asked me
to take a photo of her with her daughters. Just as I was getting
ready to click the photo, the two girls on either side of her face
moved to nearly cover the mothers face. Sometimes fate just creates
the image for you.
Of course, you have little children
that are a little intimidated by the camera. The mother tries to get
them all perfect, standing them up straight or posing them. But to
me, it's all about capturing them “in the moment”, regardless of
how they are. Crying, upset, scared. I have my favorites in just
about all categories.
I must have been taking photos for over
two hours straight; I barely realized how hot the afternoon had been,
the sweat rolling down my face. I literally had to be stopped from
taking anymore, because I would still have people asking me for
“photo, photo”. I even had people trying to give me 50 rupee;
why would I take money from anyone, let alone these people, when I am
doing things I love to do.
So Saturday, evening around , Ajay is
rounding up all the volunteers to take us to some seminar. No one
wants to go. We are all hot and tired after a long day. But
apparently he keeps insisting we “have” to go. So we take
rickshas to somewhere in town and enter a large conference room.
It's crowded, and we are a bit late. They have some seats reserved
for us up front. We still have no idea what this is even about.
Look down at the brochure and see the presentation is being conducted
in Hindi. We are all expecting this, whatever “this” is, to be
over in maybe an hour, or at least until a break so we can make our
escape. One hour goes by, another half hour, then another half hour.
No break. We sit through 3 full hours of a loud Hindi speaking man
amplified by loud speakers directly in front of us. Seemed like an
Indian version of a motivational speaker, reinforced with references
to chakras. He was getting the rest of the audience all riled up and
very into it. We westerners, not understanding any of what was going
on, were dozing off – literally. At least now all of us can boast
we sat through a 3 hour lecture in Hindi and survived. We should
have t-shirts made. At least when we were done with that, we found a
nice restaurant nearby and laughed about it the whole time.
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