COVID is crushing everyone’s dreams of getting back out into the world. Which means my Uganda photo workshop, originally planned for this October, will most likely be postponed (just like every single other thing in life right now…no surprises there).
However, I feel like I need a space to dish out some photography stuff. Important shots, tech tips, backstories, etc. It’s a chance for me to share and a chance for you to experience, learn and take whatever you can from each post.
This is for photographers, aspiring photographers, voyeuristic photographers or literally anyone who wants to look at pictures and read about them. Most often, a still photo has to do all the talking for itself. And if shot well, it can do that. But, half the fun in photography is all the stuff leading in and out of the shot.
So, here it is.
Taking a cue from a photographer friend of mine who does something similar, Fridays are now dedicated to digging deeper into the photography side of some of my favorite shots. Each crush will be one ‘good shot’ and the specs behind that experience. The rest is just illustrated narrative.
If any of the 7 of you followers remember, I started this back in 2015, got 4 posts in, then had a baby. Well, my world fell apart at that time, for obvious reasons and I couldn’t get back in a groove. I’m going back to that first post from Guatemala and will be mixing it up moving forward from there.
So, without further ado, I give you…
Photo Crush Fridays: Girl In The Mercado
Gear: Nikon D600; Nikon 35mm f/1.8
Settings: ISO 320, 1/100, f/2.5
Getting There: This trip to Guatemala began similar to the past one, with a few days in Guatemala City. Guatemala City is what it is. Like it or leave it. It is a microcosm of the constant juxtapositions of the wealth and class disparities of it’s population. Corrugated metal shacks cling to the hillsides just out of view of the decks of the $500,000 homes above them. It is Central America’s largest city, home to nearly 4 million inhabitants. It is broken up into 21 districts called ‘Zona’s’ (zones), each maintaining a unique vibe, some being quite a bit more dodgy or downright dangerous than others. Guatemala City has the 3rd highest murder rate in the world and is home to shot-gun toting guards and extortionary kidnappers. On a more positive note, however, it is also home to several million people living normal lives amidst the chaos of rumbling buses, exhaust, sky high modern buildings and hundred year old crumbling churches.
In the middle of this is the central mercado. A photographic candy store, if you will. Aisle upon crowded aisle of merchants displaying their wares and customers doing their daily shopping. Outside bustles with fruits, vegetables, beans, corn, and a million different assortments of things to eat or cook with. Inside is level upon dark-bunker-like level of stores packed to the ceiling with all kinds of goods. A pick-pocket playhouse. A friend of mine told me a story that if you are caught stealing in this place they take you out to the dark alley in back and shoot you. No chance for due process. Urban legend? Definitely keeps you on your toes.
What it says: This photo shows the daily life that takes place in this mercado. Just a little girl out doing the daily shopping with her mother or auntie or grandma, disgusted at the fact that she is standing in the middle of a bunch of dead animals still half way bleeding and hanging from hooks. The light coming in from an overhead skylight, the dress, the boots, the expression, the colors, it all comes together in this moment.
What is doesn’t say: Is that I had precisely that, a moment. Maybe a 30 second moment to see, evaluate, set and shoot. We were all leaving this floor and walking up a staircase to the next one. I turned around after shooting a counter full of dead fish to see this little girl, illuminated in light like a saint. I ran down a few steps and took 4 shots from this side of her and ran around the other kiosks to get a quick 5th shot of her walking out of the market with the woman. Honestly, it wasn’t enough. At the time, I didn’t think I got anything. Not what I was seeing in my head, anyway. I smiled, nodded, and let them pass. This image also doesn’t say that the stench of hundreds of pounds of raw meat packed into a hot, humid, maze of a warehouse buzzing with flies and people and carts of chickens on the way to slaughter, is much more nauseating than it sounds in writing.
I was enthralled with the raw meat floor of this market and engulfed with claustrophobia on the other floors. After an hour or so of wandering, we managed to make our way back to where we could see the sky again.