Troubled Water

It's essentially the same picture as my last post, I know, but at the Ferry rather than train station. I was out this morning trying to make some contacts for our assignment and get some ideas. One idea that I'd been sitting on that immediately came to mind was photographing at the dump here. People, I've been told, live there including orphans and there is a culture, as in other developing countries, that work by rummaging through garbage. However, I came across a huge obstacle and was able to get out unscathed.

In sort of a Sopranos-like situation, as I was going into the dump, a group of mostly well-dressed young men and a few scruffy guys started heckling me and surrounded me in a circle. Everybody was questioning me, talking at the same time. I could see by the worried looking dump workers in the background that these guys were no good. I think anybody would have had that same "get the hell out of here, now" intuition in this situation. I did get out alright. One of the worried workers came down to me to see if I was okay and told me they were bad guys. It was an adrenaline rush and I'm angry, but I'd still like to get back there sometime to photograph.

It's he aspect of being "out on the street" again as a photographer after years of being an editor that I most dislike. Being harassed or roughed up by police, random strangers, "bad guys," etc is something that was always discouraging to me and took a lot of self-searching to see whether it was all worth it. When I was much younger and gung-ho, it didn't bother me, but as I've matured, married and had children, it does much more. I've been in situations where I've actually gotten hurt.

I realize that I probably sound like a baby, especially considering the much more considerable risks our colleagues (maybe you) are taking covering war and civil strife. But it's still fresh in my mind, and my feelings are still raw.