יום שלישי, 2 באוגוסט 2011

Lion's Print


Samburu, Kenya. July 2011
It was just another good hot morning in Masai Mara. Must have been somewhere around March of 1998. I went out with a friend on a footpath we use to walk quite often just outside of the Lodge he lived in and there was a Lion footprint in the fresh mud. We both came up with the idea to cast it with plaster and went to get some plaster to do it. We didn’t estimate the size well and mixed too little, we poured more, adding a new mix to the already dried plaster in the footprint. In short, we made what we call in Hebrew- BALAGAN, a total mess.
When waiting for it to dry we started to learn from out lesson and planed to make many more, but when lifting it- it was perfect. I still have it in my house, and that plastered lion print takes me right back to that hot morning in Masai Mara so many years ago.
Yes, we had tried to make more, I have a box full of them put away somewhere. Nothing came out like thiat first one.
While guiding groups in Africa I have little chance to play in the mud with plaster, though every good footprint brings up the wish, so occasionally I photograph them.
This Lion footprint was taken in Samburu- July 2011. Just looking at it made me think of the one I have at home and wondered if my friend that is still leaving in Mara had ever tried again to cast a good print.
This photograph is also the last one that was taken and stayed with me when my camera was stolen. A good Masai would say that as long as it was in the camera, the power of the Lion  protected it from being taken away.

No Image

Kenya. July 2011
I would have liked to put a very good photograph that I took above this post, but I am afraid it will be impossible. It is no longer  in my possession. I can still see it very clear though, so clear that if I had good drawing skills I would have been able to recover it perfectly.
I have arrived to Samburu R. in Kenya as a safari guide of a very nice group. On the first day I had asked every member of the group what would he like to see the most during the next 8 days safari. People came up with their wishes. Leopard, Cheetah, Giraffes, the big migration of Wildbeasts and Zebras that started to come into Masai Mara just that month.
For myself, I wished for the ultimate photograph. One of those that while clicking you already know that it is one of the best you ever took, one that holds the moment in a perfect way and can hand it well even to someone that wasn't there when you took it.
Our Second day in Samburu, while watching 4 Grevy's Zebras grazing I had that chance. From nowhere came a big male Zebra looking for his females. He run around them kicking and barking and took a sharp turn while facing our vehicle. There was a moment there that his striped body leaned to the side due to the sharp fast turn, clouds of dust came up from his fast run and his nostrils were wide open.  I could hear my own click and felt that my smile is from my head to toes. I was in the perfect position and was just playing with the settings of my camera to try something new. It was perfect and I knew it even before looking at it.  
For the next 2 days that this photograph was in my possession I was looking at it so many times that I can still see it in my eyes very clearly. I admired this photograph and felt that my mission was accomplished. I also had a growing fear of loosing it. Little did I know that my camera along with all my photographs in it was going to be stolen only 2 days later.
3 years I have traveled with this camera everywhere I went. I has became my traveling body until someone in Lake Naivasha Country Club has decided that he would be better off with it.
Theft is a strange thing.  Someone is going through your personal stuff, taking things that might mean money for him, but mean much more to you. As someone that can get sentimental even to hair band that had traveled with me somewhere special, yes I admit- I was very sentimental about this camera. It was a very big part of my life. And along with loosing it, I lost a week of photography and I lost my perfect photograph.
The next 2 days I spent between my group's activities and taking care of paper work. The management of Lake Naivasha Country Club was more worried about their reputation then about the well being of their client and made it an even bigger head ace.
I use to say that the most perfect shots are the ones stuck in your mind after having missed them. The ones you never took. Wrong setting, wrong position, battery died on you or you just didn't have it with you. We all know those frustrating moments so much that it seems like we are ever ready. But I can say now that the best shot might be one that you took perfectly, but will never be able to enjoy again.

יום חמישי, 17 במרץ 2011

Yoga for Elephants




Samburu, Kenya. August 2010
Samburu N.P can give you the best Elephants show around. Young clumsy babies are everywhere, big happy families are moving gently in the thick bush showing no signs of stress, that is, if you can read the signs well. Of all those, young Elephants never fail to amuse. They look as if they can barely control their directions or manage to walk without stepping on their own trunk. One thing about a young Elephant, as amusing as this sweet baby can be, it always have a BIG worried mom somewhere within site.
As I was watching this young Eli displaying its yoga abilities, I remembered an old story. A French photographer was working in Samburu N.P some years ago and was following Elephants much of his time. One morning he was watching a baby Elephant for such a long time that when they got use to each other and felt comfortable enough, the small calf came closer to the car. The photographer was happily organizing himself for close up shooting, little did he care about the mother. But as it turned, she didn't like the situation. She came rushing in, causing great damaged to his vehicle and equipment. He was left with the cloth to his body, his camera and his great new photographs. Every now and then it's good to be reminded of our place in all this…

יום שלישי, 8 במרץ 2011

The Nomads of Morocco

Atlas, Morocco. May 2010
In a country occupied by many different empires during the history and with such a big variety of landscapes and geographical conditions, people live where they can. Being strong meant that you could keep yourself in the fertile areas of this big country but then had to protect yourself from invasions of the inhabitants of the less fertile areas. The weaker you were the closest to the Sahara you found yourself as a place to live.
In Morocco, as many other African countries, identity is more by the ethnic group you come from then from the fact you live in Morocco.
There are the Arab Moroccans and the Berbers and even these are divided into different ethnic groups one can recognize by the different languages.
There is white and there is black.
There are farmers and there are nomads. Those that live in the most difficult areas, having no land of their own and hardly any property.
During 2010 I was guiding quite a lot in Morocco and met Aisha's family quite a lot. I started to stop with my groups to visit her. Most cases her husband wasn't around and she felt quite comfortable with the people sitting in her tent, playing with her kids. On my second visit she marked on her belly and explained she was pregnant. 2 month later she wasn't and there was no baby around. The Moroccan guide working with me said the woman in these areas never rest, one baby goes out, second being conceived.
Aisha and her kids seemed to be very happy to have their photos taken and watch it with us on the camera screen, never once did I hear her asking for those photos but I have organized a small photo album to give on my last tour before the winter started. Not much for a family that has almost nothing but something that I thought they would be happy to have. The morning of that last tour up the Atlas mountain was very cold and I started to have my doubts about spending the winter so high. Although everyone kept telling me that they normally stay around even in winter, we didn't find Aisha and her family that day. They might have moved to the lower part of the Atlas for the long cold winter, or found shelter in one of the caves in the area. Whatever it was, that wasn't their first winter to survive in such harsh conditions. Thinking of them while sitting in my small hut back at home in the mild winters we have in Israel, I thought how these people redefine for me the meaning of have or don't have. And how having too much takes down your appreciation to what you have.

יום שלישי, 22 בפברואר 2011

The Rocks of My Childhood


Faran Vady, Israel. February 2011
As a kid I have joined kid's activities, involving nature walks and studies. It very much paved my way on. Environmental Studying High School, Guiding kids on nature tours during my army service, then finding my way to Africa.
Last weekend, I had an invitation from one of the kids I use to hike with, to relive the adventure almost 30 years after we started these hikes. The invitation was for a hike in the southern part of Israel, the dry desert of Israel, the Negev. I have hikes in the Negev during the past few years several times but there was something different in this hike. We both lived in other places in the world since we last hiked together in this area, and changed a lot the way we hike. No more running, heavy duty carrying and counting k'm. Just a calm walk, quiet and pleasant. More exploring than running through an area.
Taking this photo it was suppose to show me as a silhouette on the desert's impressive rocks. But looking at it I thought it looks more like me image was curved out from the rocks. That set me thinking of the rocks of my childhood, and the place they took in building my personality and my path in life.

יום ראשון, 20 בפברואר 2011

Painful Dance





Arusha N.P, Tanzania. December 2010
It does look like a well choreographed dance- Necking. 2 mail Giraffs, bouncing around, pushing, hitting neck to neck in their fights. A Giraff head is quite heavy and the swing of the long neck looks almost unnatural. It accelerates the movement and the hit of the neck is very powerful.  Sometimes you can hear the sound from a distance and as much as it is beautiful to watch, it never seem to be a pleasure to take part in it
These 2 males were in Arusha N.P. We stood by them for a long time wondering whether what we are watching was a proper necking. They were very gentle with each other, very nicely rubbing each another's neck as it was for the attention rather than a fight. We left them dancing and went around the park. When returning an hour later it started to warm up a bit and sound more like a fight. As we were on the way to catch our flight out of Tanzania, we didn't have the chance to see the end of it and congratulate the winner…

יום חמישי, 3 בפברואר 2011

A World of Sands







Sahara, Morocco. 2010
Sahara. Ask anyone what comes in his mind when he hears the word and most of the people will picture sand dunes, Huge ones. Truth about the Sahara is more in what the Tuareg call it. The thousands deserts. Sand dunes are just a part of it, but a great part indeed.
Every time I have a group coming down to the Sahara, we spend a night in a nice camp planted in the middle of the sand dunes. It is a way to get all the luxury services tourists want and still feel that you are out there. In the evening we can sit out under a canopy of endless sky, it's beautiful. The morning in the Sahara is my favorite morning of the tour. I get up early before the sun does. Some clients join for a walk to see the sunrise, other prefer to sleep on, but I am going for a hunt. The great hunt of photos. About half an hour after the sun is up, it shines on the dunes in a angle that brings up all the beauty of it. It can last for long or just stay there for half an hour, depends on the weather, wind and season. But it's there. I was once walking for my morning hunt with one of the clients. He was an engineer in some big hi-teck company and never spent a night out in nature before. Sahara was a revelation for him. But when he saw me looking with my camera to the same direction, selecting the right angel to frame the right photo, he couldn’t understand it. He kept asking what was I looking for. I found that I can hardly answer that question so I finally said- Perfection. 2 days later he looked at all the sand photos on my computer and said he never saw it there, when it was unframed.
I have thousands of photos of sand dunes from my morning hunts in the Sahara, selecting those 6 wasn't easy. Perfection is in the eye of the beholder.