I liked the mother and her son from the moment I saw them, and I love this series of photos. I took them in Andong Village, a slum that I often visit about 25km outside Phnom Penh. The people who live there have been through great hardships, and they are still in a tough place. The stress of living in such conditions often erupts into fighting within families and between residents. Yet a mother’s love for her son will shine though almost any circumstances.
This is just a photographic sketch I made one afternoon in Phnom Penh. I take photos like these as a way to observe and learn; and I enjoyed talking to the people as I photographed them. It was in February, just before Chinese New Year. I walked into Wat Lanka, a Buddhist temple, and saw several young men and one older man at work. I don’t think any of them do wood working as a profession, though I could be wrong. My impression was that they showed up and learned. Perhaps they are carving images of Buddha to earn merit, or dollars (the statues were being made to sell). Buddhism in Cambodia is very practical. Young men become monks for spiritual reasons and/or because they want a place to live, food to eat, and an education. Most are monks for a few years, and some continue for life. I didn’t know what motives these men had for their labor, but I admired the care they put into the task.
I’m terrible at recognizing famous people. They have to REALLY stand out for me to notice. Even the 7 foot tall Korean pro wrestler that Hitomi spotted going through security at the airport could have slipped by me unnoticed (big but not famous enough). But even I couldn’t miss spotting Bob Sapp when he came walking toward me. Everyone else noticed, too.
I could say something here about Japanese people loving their celebrities, or idols as they straightforwardly name them. But celebrity worship is everywhere. Honestly, as you can see, people were respectful and calm. I only saw one person grab him by the shirt, and I think that was one of his handlers telling him to hurry. I’ve heard before that he’s a “gentle giant” (amazing for a guy who made his living as a modern day almost-bare-knuckle fighter), and he lived up to that reputation. I saw him hoist a couple of kids in his arms so their parents could take pictures.
About five years ago, Bob Sapp was an everyday image: on TV and everywhere you looked. Now he’s not, and his K1 career is over the hill and gone, but maybe he’ll make a comeback in the popular culture. He’s pretty funny.
I went to Meiji Jingu today to photograph the New Year’s rituals. I saw lots of interesting people, including lots of young women in kimonos (because it’s “Coming of Age” day), but these Shinto wedding photos were my favorites.
Our community has an annual festival (matsuri) this weekend. Yesterday we had perfect weather, so we all walked over the enjoy the festivities: taiko drums, local vendors in stalls hawking their wares, crowds of families and children, and dancers. Last year I photographed the dancing, and I wanted to try my luck at that again. First, I walked over to see the taiko drummers, but there was no way to get close enough to get the kind of shot I wanted.
While I was walking past the events, I thought about how much I enjoy these brief periods of warm community in Japan. It’s as if festival crowds emerge from hiding. If so, I wish I could figure out where they’re at the rest of the time.
The dancing is particularly energetic and colorful. Last year they performed in large troupes, but yesterday evening I only saw this group of local dancers ranging in age from about seven to seventy. I saw two or three people with Down’s Syndrome in the mix. Again, what a diverse community! But…wait, they are all wearing the same clothing right down to their slippers, and their moves are perfectly choreographed (well, most of the time). The sameness struck me as a feature of community when it appears in Japan. When my wife saw these pictures, she spontaneously made the same observation. Being in a large group all dressed the same and moving together provides a kind of security that allows extraordinary things to happen.
This dancing is a blend of traditional movements with thoroughly modern innovations. The pace is rapid; it’s fun and a real workout; and you get the impression of hip-hop somewhere in the background. The kids love it. There are more traditional dance groups in the community, but they are mostly made up of old women.