Kibera is the largest and probably most famous slum in Africa. Over a million people living mostly on less than $1 U.S. a day. During my Kenya trip I spent a lot of time there, partly for work and partly to hang out with some friends I’d made. One of the things that stuck me about the place was how happy the children seemed, despite their circumstances.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I’m firmly in the “Lord of the flies” camp when it comes to my opinion on children, but I will grudgingly admit to their occasional cuteness.
The children of Kibera warmed my heart in ways I will deny ever admitting, so before I ruin my hard faced image even more I will simply present a gallery of ‘cute little slum dwelling poor African children™’, go and pour myself a Gin and Tonic and mourn the loss of the Empire ;-)
“Lavosti and Oren, Impromtu jam, Nairobi April 2010”
A few days after arriving in Nairobi, the house where I was staying, legendary for its parties, was host to the birthday party for a very lovely man called Sam Hopkins (Founder of SlumTV).
He turned out to be a ‘diamond geezer’ and was one of the people who made my Kenya trip so memorable.
The outside patio at the party turned into a jamming area with many musicians from many countries,
(Israel, Kenya, Italy and Germany to name but 4)
Yours truly played his thighs as bongos for so long that my thighs looked like this in the morning:-
But I digress, When I heard the guy in the video, Lavosti from the hip-hop collective Ukooflani, start blowing into his hands and this amazing trumpet like sound issuing forth, I stopped slapping my thighs and ran and got my camera…..
The video above is all I managed to capture before the song ended , more beer arrived and the jam moved on.
Lavosti is backed on guitar by Oren from the band Jahcoozi (there will more of them in later blog posts).
I couldn’t believe he was making that amazing noise with just his hands, and boy could he sing too.
He tried to show me how to do it, but I was embarassingly bad and probably a little too far gone to try by then.
I hope you are as amazed by this little slice of musical genius as I was.
For part 2 of the Lamu posts, first a little history and some dry facts:-
Lamu town was founded in the 14th Century by Arab traders and until 1907, when it was abolished, its main income was from the slave trade. The Portuguese invasion began in 1506, the Portuguese having a virtual monopoly on shipping along the East African coast. In the 1580’s Lamu led a rebellion against the Portuguese prompted by Turkish raids. In 1652, Lamu was assisted by Oman in lifting Portuguese control. Lamu’s years as an Omani protectorate mark the town’s golden age. During this period, Lamu became a center of poetry, politics, arts and crafts as well as trade.
Since the 1970’s its economy has been primarily based on tourism, although it does still function as a busy port. The town’s population are predominantly Muslim.
Ok, thats enough of that……….
What this means in practise for slowly de-stressing photographers on the run from a life in a country they have grown to hate and the craziness of Nairobi is;- beautiful buildings with intricately carved doors and cool breezy courtyards (a prime reason for its UNESCO world heritage ranking) , a maze of tiny streets (which reminded me of a cleaner version of parts of Varanasi in India) , amazing sea food, a few choice bars (which I’m told during the high season are filled to bursting with Kenyan prostitutes from the mainland) and a promenade bustling with life.
There are the inevitable hassles of silver tounged beach boys looking to make a fast $ from tourists or find a rich western girl to take them to the bright lights of the big city and some ecological issues caused by the towns ever-increasing waste management issues and thirst for electricity.
However, For me, it was a glorious week of sunshine and relaxation. (Big thanks to Hassani , Maffi and the Germans I hung out with while I was there ;-)
And so, a gallery of unashamedly tourist shots, with a few Uchujinesque gems thrown in for good measure.
Lamu Town, Kenya’s oldest living town, a UNESCO world heritage site and, for me at least, a crazy 14 hour matatu ride from Nairobi.
During this years excursion to Kenya, I spent a week there, swimming, eating amazing sea food, drinking beer and fighting off the confidence tricksters known as the ‘beach boys’.
It’s a pretty idyllic place, rumor has it that even Princess Stephanie of Monaco has a beach house a little further up the island in Shella, the rich tourists town.
Usually when I’m on ‘holiday’ proper as opposed to ‘travelling’ I like to get taxis everywhere, it makes me feel rich and decadent, a feeling that despite my anarcho-marxist ranting I really rather enjoy.
Lamu, however has no cars, one of its great draws for us tourist types (oh , that and the fact that it’s over a thousand years old).
The ‘Lamu Taxi’ as its affectionately known is therefore the humble beast of burden, the Ass or Donkey.
So, as a tribute to these hard-working domesticated members of the horse family, a gallery of Ass ;-)
(completely unrelated picture-But , really, THAT is what you call a beard!) Things have been a bit slow here on the blog for the past week or so as I’ve had my head deep in CSS and HTML updating the main Uchujin site. There are still quite a few Kenya pictures to come though and…
The third and final part of ther Isiolo series, was actually not shot in Isiolo at all……..
If you get in a jeep and drive a few hours north of Isiolo, through increasingly empty terrain (save for the antelope, giraffes and other assorted wildlife) you come to ‘Archers Post’, basically a village around a catholic mission (or should that be the other way round?) and if you drive for another hour or two even further North you come to Sereolipi, and then you really feel like you are truly in Africa™, nothing but the mud huts, tribal people and African™ bush as far as the eye can see.
The main tribes in the area are called the Turkana (in their oral traditions they designate themselves the people of the grey bull) and the Samburu (They refer to themselves as Lokop or Loikop the meaning of which even the Samburu diagree on)
Much has been written about them and they have, like most heavily adorned African™ tribes, been photographed by everyone and his grandmothers friends dog.
However, I thought , seeing as I was there…………..
So, some bargaining with sugar and tobacco later, allow me to present a series of portraits of Turkana and Samburu tribal women in all their glory.
For part 2 of the Isiolo series, some pictures of the town itself and its environs.
Isiolo has grown exponentially in the last 5 or 6 years as the road that leads there has been rebuilt and now actually resembles what most of us would refer to as a road rather than a mud track. As one drives into town the two buildings that immediately jump out are the huge cathedral and the Mosque. (The Italian priest who built the cathedral apparently died when he climbed up to fix one of the windows above the altar and fell, hitting the large cross on the way down.) Churches seem to be everywhere you go, no matter how remote the place.
The people were very friendly and inquisitive, it seems that although Isiolo is on the main route north to Lake Turkana that few tourists stop there for any length of time. At least here the kids didn’t run away crying when they saw me (granted that happens almost everywhere not just in small African towns.) They were not too keen on having their photos taken though, a phenomenon I encountered through much of Kenya and which I am told is due in large part to the thousands of photographers that visit Africa, take pictures of the poor with their big expensive cameras and leave, leaving the local population feeling somewhat exploited.It’s such a shame though because around the golden hour the light is simply majestic.
The other thing that struck me (though not unique to Isiolo) was the hand painted shop fronts, often named after events that were taking place at the time they were built. Which goes some way to explaining why its ok to have a “Twin Towerz (sic) Hotel”.
It’s worth noting that the last picture in the slide show shows a red shirt marking the spot where a man was eaten by a crocodile less than 2 weeks before the shot was taken, the red shirt was all that remained of the unfortunate fellow. In fact there were many places, especially near the rivers and lakes, that my guides said we couldn’t walk, because as it was rainy season and the usually barren landscape was a riot of greenery it was too easy for crocodiles and other predators to hide, making it too dangerous. I was wearing a red shirt that day so I decided to take their advice.
During my Kenya sojourn I was lucky enough to stay with a very hospitable Italian man, his Turkana wife and the 19 members of their extended family just outside Isiolo, a small town about 6 hours north of Nairobi. The friend who suggested I stay there told me “it’s like the edge of the world”. I didn’t quite understand what she meant untill I went there. Isiolo is just a small Kenyan town, interesting enough but fairly unremarkable, however a mere 10 minutes walk outside the town it feels like you have stepped into some National Geographic Africa photo spread, it’s all mud huts, naked children and heavily adorned Turkana tribe men and women.
Magical.
This is the first post in a series about my all too brief stay “at the edge of the world”. Long exposure (seconds) high ISO shots (some pushing the limits of the 5DmkII) of the house where I stayed.
To whom it may concern:- I’m back in Tokyo, in body if not in spirit. My month long sojourn in Kenya which I had hoped would shake up the snow globe in my head has proven to have had quite the opposite effect and has made me realise that the snow globe was in a…
Or, My feet have become unbearably itchy……. Haven’t really been able to update the blog this month as I have been working like a crazy person and preparing for my trip to Kenya and Tanzania on which I am leaving next week. That means another month where updates will be almost non-existent as I’m unsure…
Last week a make-up artist friend, Yuko Goto, asked me to shoot for a friend and client of hers Asoh Kaho (www.kaho.jp) , a Japanese traditional musician and dancer. The shoot took place at the Akasaka Prince Hotel, in the rather beautiful 2 storey old building, which reeked of money and decadence ;-) It was…
Located on the east coast of India, sixty kilometers from the Orissan capital of Bhubaneswar, lies Puri, one of the great pilgrimage sites dating back to ancient India.
Held annually on the “second day of the bright fortnight in the month of Asad” (June-July) according to the Vedas, Rath Yatra– the Festival of Chariots of Lord Jagannath– takes over the small coastal town, as upwards of a million devotees flock there to commemorate the journey of Jagannath- Lord Krishna incarnate- from Gokul to Mathura.
The throng fills the Bada Danda, the grand avenue, and pull three richly decorated wooden chariots- each towering over ten meters- resembling temple structures and containing the presiding deities of the main temple, Lord Jagannath, Lord Balarama and Goddess Subhadra, two kilometers through the packed streets, from the 12th century Sri Mandir temple to the temple of the trio’s aunt, Gundicha. This is the only day when devotees, who are not regularly allowed in the temple premises (such as non-Hindus and foreigners), can get a glimpse of the deities as they parade through the Bada Danda.
As a glimpse of Lord Jagannath on his chariot is very auspicious, thousands risk their lives fighting the enormous crowd. Those few who are able to touch the chariot or even the ropes with which it is pulled (considered by some to be the threads of salvation itself) are thought to be lucky enough to confer the results of countless pious deeds. After a nine-day sojourn at the Gundicha temple and countless festivities, the divine summer vacation is over and the three deities return to the temple of Lord Jagannath.
Indian Poets and scriptures have repeatedly glorified this special festival. There is a famous song still sung in the Orissan language, which says that on this occasion the chariot, its wheels and the grand avenue all become one with Lord Jagannath himself. It is said that when the British first observed the Rath Yatra in the 18th century, they were so amazed that they sent home shocking descriptions of the irresistable force of Jagannath, thus giving rise to the term juggernaut.
Though many foreign accounts of the festival have been dismissed by Orissan scholars as the incorrect and disrespectful statements of infidels, one such Friar Odoric (ca. 1321 AD) is quoted in Hobson Jobson as stating, “Many pilgrims who have come to this feast cast themselves under the chariots so that the wheels may go over them saying that they desire to die for their God and the car passes over them, and crushes them and cuts them asunder and so they perish on the spot.” The fact remains, however, that many Hindus believe that a death under the wheels of the chariot would bring them salvation. An issue of the Puri Gazetteer of 1929 mentions some suicides occurring in this fashion while scholars admit that evidence exists that points to many instances of people lying down their bodies before the chariots, allowing the wheels to crush them.
These days thousands of gun-toting policemen, para-military personnel, bomb squad and anti-terror squad personnel are deployed en masse with elaborate arrangements made, which in an effort to try to control the million strong crowd whipping itself up into a religious fervor, while also attempting to diminish the scores of pickpockets and other criminals that prey on the faithful, turns the entire city into a locked down fortress.
Allegations of poor crowd management were heard from Orissa State Congressional President Jayadev Jena, after a stampede in 2008 after six people died and dozens were injured, in which he stated, “the police take care of the important people and care less for the common devotees.” Despite such problems, Puri’s Rath Yatra remains one of the world’s most spectacular religious festivals and a remarkable congregation of over a million people.
**The video below was not used in the original piece so I am presenting it here, it was shot with my old camera a Nikon 8800, so the quality is not what I am used to now with the full HD of my 5D mk II , but hopefully it gives you some idea of the craziness and scale of the festival.**
Even having spent more than 2 years in India, I have almost never been scared there, but my forays into the crowd at Rath Yatra scared the s*%t out of me.
I’ve been to some big concerts before, at Wembley Stadium in England for example, with 80,000 people and felt the excitement, understood the raw power of tens of thousands of people together in the same place, focused on the same thing.
Rath Yatra was really different.
Maybe because it is a religious festival, inspiring the kind of devotion that rock stars would cut off their left testicle to inspire in their fans, or maybe because the number of people was so much larger.
To be in that mass of seething humanity, over a million people, the ‘group mind’ feeling was truely terrifying and humbling.
It remains one of the most awe inspiring things I have ever witnessed or been a part of.
Nothing like a good name drop, especially if it’s someone revered by millions of people world wide as a living god. I recently came across this picture thanks to my dearest friend Falsalama (see my portrait of him HERE). The original photo was taken by Claire Pullinger and this must have been taken in 1999, when Falsalama and I were soundmen for His Holiness in Bodh Gaya, India for his teachings over the millenium.
That’s Falsalama and me in the bottom left hand corner, looking tired and much much younger than we do today.
Wish I had a better copy of this photo, this was scanned from a calender that Claire Pullingers photo was used in, apparently.
Anyway, whatever, it’s a good excuse for a blog post and it’s visual proof that I sometimes need for when I’m drunk and start telling stories that start with “when I worked for the Dali Lama…..”
In honor of my dear friend Jon Ellis (he of “it’ll all end in tears” fame) and his 3 accomplices, Thomas Orand, Toshiya Watanabe and Dairou Kogas’ exhibition at Place M in Shinjuku, Tokyo, running until Feburary 14th 2010, I am posting 3 of my recent favorite pictures of the man who makes Andrew Eldrich look not goth enough.
Behold, Mr Jon Ellis……….
Oh and go to the exhibition, its really very very good ;-)
Once again while the (allegedly) omnipotent, omnipresent one was having a day off, last Sunday, the (allegedly) evil horned one and I were not. I don’t know what Mephisto was up to, but Jim O’Connell and I were at a private party in Kabukicho, Tokyo shooting some more poledancing pictures for my “On the 7th…
A selection of photos from my “Let the poets cry themselves to sleep” series recently appeared on the CNNgo site.People started twittering about it, then someone Dugg it and then all hell broke loose.
(Protestor holding a banner with Ichiro Ozawa(secretary-general of the ruling Democratic Party of Japan) and Yukio Hatoyama’s (Current Prime minister of Japan) faces added to Nazi propaganda poster declaring that- “My rights and rule are foremost” , “What is government rule, corruption?” ,”Mama can I have some more child allowance”) Over on “Magnesium” I have…
The latest shot from my “Talented Friends” series. As with all of the shots in this series, no compositing was used to produce this image. Eiichi “Scart” Miyamoto is an artist, photographer and an internationally known designer. He has the largest collection of cameras and lenses I have ever seen and he knows how to…
So I hadn’t really thought thru my naming system for these “from the archives” posts, as what was 2 years ago just a month ago is now 3 years ago……. Oh well, from now on they will all be “X years ago”……. So without further ado, a few from January 2007. (all at the previous…
I spent the new year with the wifes parents in Yamagata, stuffing my face and getting hammered on good whiskey with my father in law. It was damn cold and the snow fell continuously for days erasing all the sharp edges from both the physical landscape and my overactive mind. The quiet stillness of a…
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.AcceptRejectRead More
Privacy & Cookies Policy
Privacy Overview
This website uses cookies to improve your experience while you navigate through the website. Out of these, the cookies that are categorized as necessary are stored on your browser as they are essential for the working of basic functionalities of the website. We also use third-party cookies that help us analyze and understand how you use this website. These cookies will be stored in your browser only with your consent. You also have the option to opt-out of these cookies. But opting out of some of these cookies may affect your browsing experience.
Necessary cookies are absolutely essential for the website to function properly. This category only includes cookies that ensures basic functionalities and security features of the website. These cookies do not store any personal information.
Any cookies that may not be particularly necessary for the website to function and is used specifically to collect user personal data via analytics, ads, other embedded contents are termed as non-necessary cookies. It is mandatory to procure user consent prior to running these cookies on your website.