Easterm winds. Flat Sea

Sdot Yam, Israel. December 2010

When I left Masai Mara after years of driving around the biggest Savana plains of Africa, I missed exactly that. The feeling of being in an open place where you can drive hours without meeting anyone, the feeling that the sky and the land below them are endless. One almost wishes to go and look for the end of the world.

Israel has its deserts and as small as they might be, they can give you this feeling, but I found that the sea replaces much of that need in my life and that Kayaking is almost like taking the jeep for a drive in the sea of grass. Israel does have a problem to stand in line with Masai Mara when it comes to wildlife, but it has its spots and its moments. Again, much of it I found in the sea.

Yesterday morning, I went with my Kayaking club mates for a safari. On the rocks, just where we entered the sea there were the most Cormorants I had ever seen together. Using the skills I learned from the Leopard in Serengeti  J (4 posts ago), we stalked these birds. We gently came eastern to their rock and the wind did the rest. Within no time a huge cloud of birds was up in the air.

How did that woman say it? Happiness is when you are being nostalgic about the present…watching that cloud of birds was pure joy and a great moment of happiness. I am not sure that the fish farmers growing fish in pools along the coast felt the same about that massive cloud as it approached their pools...

A hot dry December in Israel

Sdot Yam, Israel. December 2010

So... We did have the mother of storms just this month, and I had my first attempt of editing anything. And now I am playing again. That major storm was an empty promise. While Europe is in the Ice age, we have a strangely hot and dry winter. Flat sea with eastern winds every morning, and almost no waves for play.

Perfection

Ayder, Turkey. September 2008

I got to Ayder with a lovely group, 6 guys that were celebrating their 40^th birthday. The tour, like most of our tours, spent 2 nights at the village. On the afternoon of the full day we had there, I 'deposit' my whole group for a treat at the hot springs of the village and went to meet with a friend. Ayder is a Swiss looking village on the slopes of Kachkar Mountains, facing north to the black sea. It has 300 rainy days a year and most of the summer it still keeps cool which makes it a very touristic place. In fact, during the years more and more people keep hotels and pensions rather than their own place. I met Ayder the first time at the end of the summer of 1993. It had a muddy path crossing the place and it was not very developed. All had changed there but the atmosphere stayed the same. It is a place to visit withut a spesific plan. Endless possibilities going up the mountains and any kind of accommodation one could ask for.  

That was my second season guiding in Kachkar and I knew the routes we were using during our tours, but I felt like I know too little. Mehmet my friend promised to take me to a special place and he kept his promise very well. We went up to a Avuzor Yayla (a temporary village used only during the summer time) that I had never been to before. It was a beautiful afternoon and after guiding nonstop for several weeks I finally had some time alone. Climbing up the steep road there was this one single moment that I cherish. We stopped in a good view point looking at the thick forest and for one split of a second, the sun went out of the clouds sending one of its last rays for the day, touching the trees with soft light. Then it was gone. Collecting itself to light the other side of the world and I felt that I miss the moment a little before it was gone. Someone once told me that happiness is being nostalgic about the present. I was a happy person that afternoon, surrounded by all the beauty of the world.

The next morning I took the group up that road. Mehmet was suppose to join us but he said yesterday was just too perfect. The air was as clean as only high mountains air can be, visibility was amazing and we took great photographs. But it was just as he said it, yesterday was just too perfect.

Rising Before the Sun

Sahara, Morocco. October 2010

Early morning we got up to walk in the Sahara dunes. I normally tell the clients that I get up half an hour before the sun does and if they want they join me for a morning walk to see the sunrise and photograph the sand dunes. After the sun is up there is a very limited time in which the contrast of the dunes and the shade is great, then when the angle of the sun no longer gives that contrast there is nothing to look for with a camera. Sometimes the opening for great photography is over an hour; sometimes much less, all depends on how clear is the air.

That time it was going to be great but before the sun came up I had all the girls of the group walking on the face of the dune. The sand was cold and we were too early so we were walking and moving to try and get warmer. It reminded me of the days I would look for an angle to have a Giraffe standing between me and the sun to create a good silhouette, or a Lion for that matter. One of those typical photos that was always hard to get. Try and explain the Giraffe to stand still exactly when you need it to…

Well, the girls did very well. Already the morning hunt for a good photograph was successful.

Winter is here, at last

Sdot Yam, Israel. December 2010

Winter finally arrived with impressive winds and huge waves. Not so much rain though… I just returned from Tanzania and had time to play with my new underwater camera. These are the results.

Mother Leopard

Serengeti, Tanzania. December 2010

 She came down the rocks slowly, walked between the vehicles that were standing there and prepared herself for a kill. Up the rocks she just came down from were waiting her 2 cute cubs. We were on our way out of the Serengeti and surprisingly the group was quite disappointed. We saw much but the Lions were always far and everyone else seemed to be talking of a Leopard that we didn't find.

Well, this morning we did and after playing with her cubs she was going to get some food.

Predators are much liked by tourists and photographers. And while you can learn the movements of Lions or Hyenas within their territories, you can't really learn the Leopard. It doesn't have its own territory but moves much within a range. 1 Leopard can move above 20km a day or stay up the tree as it pleases.

She didn't need to run much and the Gazelle was already in her mouth. As much as people want to see a kill when they come to Africa, they very often lack the "stomach" to watch it. Maybe it was the fact that we had just seen her cubs up the rocks but this time my group was all for the Leopard. Kids, parents and grand moms. And of course, me and the drivers. I must say, even as I lived in Masai Mara as long as I did, I had never seen a Leopard kill before. I saw the moment after, or the moment before. I even saw one huge male Leopard, trying to hunt at night and failing repeatedly. But I had never seen an actual kill.

When it was all done and the Leopard was sitting comfortably on her rock again, while her kill was on the tree waiting, I heard the kids asking the drivers how rare it is to watch such a thing. 'Maybe once a year', said one of the drivers. I sneaked a look and said in Swahili for him only to understand that for me it was a first. Slowly the 3 of them had to admit that it was a first for them as well…

Yolldash

Cappadokia, Turkey. May 2008

Yolldash was, or still is, a Turkish dog. He is a mixture with Kangal, a Turkish dog very much loved by the Turks. I met him on the streets of Kaimakly, a small town in Cappadokia, on the way to check a route we wanted to add to our 4 by 4 tours. He was very young and very much alone. We stopped by him and couldn’t resist taking him along. A dog with the Kangal's 6^th finger shouldn't miss a chance to find a home in Cappadokia, we thought. We took him to a vet in Urgup and checked that all was ok with him. He was just a little too thin, apart from that he was well.

I gave him the best Turkish dog's name that I knew of. Yoll-Dash, A partner for the road, and so he was. As the guides team in the middle of preparations for a very busy season, we couldn't find the time, or didn't want to, to find him a home nor did we have a place for him. So he came with us everywhere and at night, as we stayed at one of the big hotels in Cappadokia- Tourist Hotel, we left him in the car, in a box we fixed for him, with hot bottles under the towels to keep him warm. It was May in Goreme and the nights were really cold. Somewhere along the second week, the team of the hotel has noticed us rushing at night to the car. As they learned about Yolldash, he became everyone's favorite dog.  The hotel team gave him an empty pool in the middle of the hotel grass to stay in, and we started to keep him there during the days while we all went guiding our groups.

Yolldash was growing fast in that small pool and slowly managed to have a pick at us above the pool's wall as we left him. He wasn't a happy dog when being left alone but he never stayed alone for too long. Soon he was famous among our groups and the kids would come to play with him.

Yolldash lived with us at Tourist Hotel from May to September. Then, when the days were getting too hot the whole of the company, guides and operation, moved to Kachkar. Umit, one of our Turkish guides, took him along and found him a home.  I have never seen him again but knew he was doing well and was a big dog. The owner said we have spoiled him too much and he was demanding that much attention in his new home as well. It wasn't a compliment to the dog or to the way we took care of him, Kangals are known to be very tough dogs. Farmers keep them as shepherd dogs to protect the life stock from wolfs. They normally feed them very little, the dogs always find their own food, hunting and scavenging. When I returned to Cappadokia in the end of that season to guide one single group, no one was there. Same routesthat I had known for years, same hotels and friends along the way, but all along there was something missing. Only as I returned toward Goreme in the end of the trip, I have noticed my anticipation for a meeting that will not accrue, with Yolldash.

For me, Yolldash was a true partner for the journey I had that year. One of the most difficult things for me as a guide is the fact that you are alone. Alone with the group. Alone with your decisions about the tour and so, with the filatures or the successes.  You are surrounded by people almost 24 hours a day, but you are on your own as strong as the operation behind you might be. Having a dog in such a situation is no option at all. You take very little things with you, mostly stuff you need for the tour, and you move from place to place with no real home anywhere you go. That year, having so many groups in one place, the company I worked for had all the operation team and a huge team of guides together in the center of Cappadokia. I would normally take the long tours that went out of that center and so escaped the big crowd. But in the end of every week I had a few days with friends and with Yolldash. He was a big part of the happiness I experienced that season.

Just the Right Click

Masai Mara, Kenya. December 2001

Some moments would have passed me unnoticed unless captured well enough. Such was a split of a moment in this Lions honeymoon.

Living in Masai Mara, Kenya and guiding night safaris (using night vision equipment) meant that I was following 3 different prides of Lions in the area of the lodge, and tried to know where they are at least every afternoon. Lions tend to leave their group when they are ready to mate (that is…when she is…) and mainly do what they had left for, for several days. They say they need above 100 sessions before she can conceive and that they mate every 45 minutes. All of course depends on the Lion, the season, availability of food and so- their strength. One thing is sure, they don't move much during their Honeymoon unless really disturbed so, when there are honeymooners around, tourists and photographers tend to stick around.

In one grey morning, driving back into camp, there seemed to be a new couple up the road but the area was so wet that I had stayed on a distance. I put my camera on standby and gave it a shot. Latterly, that was all I did. I had very little light and not the right equipment and I don't think I had stayed there more than 15 minutes. It was pre digital cameras so watching the results meant; waiting for a drive to Nairobi- that use to happen about once in 2-3 month, sending them to the lab and then framing and sorting out quite a lot. I think I have managed to look at this slide about a month after it was taken and it caught me by surprise. It was a moment I didn’t even remember that was there, not as excited as it appeared in the slide anyway. A moment that remained with me only thanks to a lazy click at the right time.

??? Excuse Me. Do I Know You

Biograd, Montenegro. September 2004  

I had started to work in Montenegro about 6 years ago but it took me a long time to get to know it. In the first 3 years I had taken 3 tours a year at the most, normally in the end of the season. Hence, I didn't get too involved with the place the people or my work there as a guide. The point where it had all changed was a funny moment.

During my first tour in this photogenic country, we were driving up on Biograd's most beautiful road and came across an old lady. Her eyes looked as if she was smiling with them, her lips were stained by the Blueberries she had picked and eaten and she had no problem to have her photo taken.  I loved this photo taken of the two of us and it had a place of honor on my fridge door at home.

Since then, I had driven this road every tour I had guided in Montenegro and saw the old women herding the sheep and picking Blueberries, walking easily at high altitude in serious slopes as if they were teenagers. About 4 years after my first tour, I was looking at one of the women and thought she was familiar. She had long white hair, loose, and something in her eyes made me remember.
When I greeted her one of my group members asked me whether I know her. Of course I do, I replied, this is the woman from my fridge…

Childhood Memories in Edirne

Edirne, Turkey. November 2009

My dad was born in Edirne, Turkey. No one knows exactly the date or the year. At 1944, when he was about 12 years old, following his Zionist passion, he left his family in Edirne and came to Israel. His cousin did the same a few years before him. We learned very little about their lives in Edirne as kids, no matter how much we had tried to inquire. But one story we all remembered, saying goodbye at the train station to families they had never seen again.

When I came to Turkey the first time and found myself at the old train station in Istanbul, I had mistakenly thought that this is where he had seen his dad in the last time. I sat aside and cried like a baby. Only later did I find out that this was far from being the right location..

My dad and his cousin refused to go back to their home town for many years but we have finally managed to convinced them last year and joined. All their kids. 65 years have passed but within a very short time they started to speak Turkish which they thought they had forgotten. They run around the streets looking for shreds of their childhood and finally, in one fogy morning, we went to the train station. That always seemed to me as the most emotional spot of their lives. It was the place where they had realized the meaning of their decision for the first time, the place where they said their last goodbyes, to families they were not going to see again. One can hardly imagine such a moment.  

When we got to the station, us the young generation, felt like we were stepping on stones of their painfull memories so we walked carefully. We couldn't bring ourselves to leave the place and took quite a lot of photos. But when we have finally managed to get over our excitement and look at my dad and his cousin,  we saw that the excitement was entirely ours. They didn't seem like the place meant to them what we thought it did. Looking at them from the side I thought that this is where their childhood ended and their journey began.

Natural Born Model

Zanzibar. November 2001

I had lived in Kenya 5 years before I finally crossed the border to Tanzania. 10 years before that, when backpacking through Africa- East to South, Tanzania was still closed for Israelis so it was always the unknown part of East Africa for me.

Living in a Masai territory was quite frustrating experience photography wise.  The wildlife was fairly cooperative but the people…that was another matter altogether. Masai people don’t like to have their photos taken and one should respect that and forget about photography unless organized and prepaid for.

5 years in Masai territory have passed and there I was, walking through one of the small villages in Zanzibar's east coast. I had my camera on me but as a habit was not even thinking of using it, until I noticed that gorgeous kid trying to get my attention and posing for the camera. It was before we had the ability to show people their photos right away and she was not asking for anything. She just had a great time having her photograph taken, and so did I.

Like Tel Aviv in Summer Time

Biograd, Montenegro. September 2008

Montenegro is an amazing place with beautiful landscape and great playground for tracks and 4 by 4 tours.  Mountains are not high, but impressive. People have horrible reputation yet very welcoming and pleasant. Weather tends to be friendly, when you pick the right season. But whether or not you get good weather in autumn, well… that is entirely a matter of luck. All one can do, is get the right gear and hope for the best.

When people ask, I always recommend- trust no one and get prepared for the worst. That is, when they ask me.

The autumn of 2008 was quite rough in Europe and I was waiting for a group in Podgorica's air port. They came down from a warm Israeli weather, and knew nothing of the cold wave that was running through Europe. They said my boss told them that Montenegro is just like Tel Aviv in summer time. We drove up the mountains that week, on iced roads. Photographing frozen plants and snowy picks. We bought warm cloth everywhere we could, and every evening sent photographs of frozen people to my boss, under the title - Tel Aviv in summer time…

Memorable Trees

Masai Mara, Kenya. April 2002

I had lived in the middle of one of the widest savannah of Africa for 6 years. A sea of grass wherever your eyes can see. Spectacular wildlife sheltered by endless sky. For me it was a great place to get lost in order to find myself, and so I did.

Finding your direction in such a place may be a tricky thing. You mark yourself rocks and trees that may help and learn the language of the bush- names that the local drivers and guides have used for years. Very close to leaving the reserve I had noticed that I base all my directions on trees that reminded me of people. As if I was driving in a book telling the story of my life there. One morning, going with a friend to one of the areas of the reserve that I knew less, we drove into a thick fog and that got worst very fast. We had 2 compasses; every one of those had another idea as for where north might be. So I drove until I found a tree that I knew well, and that pointed me to the right way back to camp.

Just before leaving the reserve at 2002, I set to photograph all those trees and wrote the stories of the people they reminded me of. I had a feeling then, that those people are treasured in their branches and will live there forever.

A Magical Morning @ the East Coast of Zanzibar

Zanzibar, East coast. March 2009

It was my last morning Zanzibar. All was already done. Group's bills paid, gear packed away, goodbyes said. But I had another photograph to take- the women at the algae farms. The low tide enables interesting farming in the shallow water- growing algae- Gracilaria. Zanzibar women go to the shallow water in the low tide, singing their way to work, bending over the sticks to which they attach the algae.

The sky was perfect that morning and I walked into the water under an amazing cloud. It was a magical time to say goodbye to this peaceful island. I approached one of the workers and wanted to ask her to if I can photograph. In Africa, as in many places around the world, the answer is normally a price. And I had no small change with me. As she rose from her work to answer, I was surprised to find that this flexible woman was quite old. Shikamo, I greeted her in Swahili, the way you should greet an old person.
That caught her by surprise.
A muzungu tourist (Swahili nick name for white people) that speaks Swahili. She smiled a wide toothless smile. I have asked her whether I could photograph and she hesitated as she answered that it'll cost me money. She was more asking then saying but I went on asking for her price. 500 shilling she said, again more asking then saying. At that time this amount was less than half a dollar. I told her I don't have that much and her smile was still there. She asked how much do I have. There was something amazing in this woman's eyes. They were smiling.
Pole mama, mimi niko na 10.000 shilling too. Sorry, I said, I have only 10.000 shilling.
Sawa sawa hamna shida, she replied- it's ok, no problem.
To her absolute surprise, I handed her with the red note. She was laughing dancing and singing, calling all her friends to look at this crazy muzungu that has just paid her about 20 times what she had asked for.
 I knew it was going to take quite a while till I will be in Zanzibar again and that I don't need that bill, I also knew that at no other point of the last week would I have hand that note, less than 10 usd to this woman.

 That morning conversation and her reaction made me so happy that I wanted to dance with her. Instead, I thanked her dearly and started to work with my camera.

It's all a Matter of Timing

Sahara, Morocco. March 2010

I have started to guide in Morocco early 2010. Guiding long days in this huge country, having to cover too many kilometers per day, made me work hard on the timings. Because sometimes it is all about timing. Sahara was one of these places were timing was crutal. You don’t want to get to camp too early because of the heat, and you don't want to miss the sunset. During the second trip I have guided we came to Naji's camp in Shegaga, the dunes section of the Sahara, right on time. We took our shoes off and climbed the highest dune above our camp just in time to see the sunset above the dunes and went down to camp. The evening was nice and cool, and I was sitting with my group chilling  out when one of Naji's handsome relatives started to prepare the candle holders for night fall. He was dressed up with the traditional Galaba and shash, and the light of the candle was gently showing his beautiful face. I have managed to click about 3 clicks before the moment was gone.

Never mind, I thought to myself, I will be here at least once a month in the next few months, and every evening one of Naji's handsome relatives will have to light the candles, and I shpuld be coming in with my groups ata bout that time.

But the opportunity was never there again. I was there every month, climbing down from one dune or another, and Naji's relatives were lighting the candles ever evening. Still, in a funny way, it was never there again. It is all a matter of timing after all...

A friend suggested to start blog my traveling. As much as I could relate to it I was under the frustration that when I do interesting stuff, I have no time, and when I have the time there is normally very little to write about.

I have been traveling, photographing and writing for many years now. I know that when I don't write the world can just pass by me, so I have decided to collect small moments that were photographed, and write the small stories behind them. Because writing, as steel photography, is saving those small moments that would have been gone unnoticed.

You are welcome to join.