Moria and Anita Kalbeliya gypsy sisters, Rajasthan
Incredible India!
That land of colour, chaos and contradictions.
I’ve only just returned to my quiet little corner of the NSW southcoast after three weeks of travelling in magical, manic, northern India. My suitcases are full of trinkets bought from street children and beggars, my shoes are full of desert sand, and my external drives are full of pictures. It will be months before I can fully sort out my thoughts and impressions. So, I thought I’d prepare a short post in the mean time.
“Short” turned out not to be so simple! I love what little I have seen of India – but I can’t claim to begin to understand it. To a Western-raised mind, it truly is a land of contradictions.
The caste system is a case in point. Codified almost 2000 years ago in Brahminical texts, four broad castes were defined, based on their functions – their roles – in society:
Brahmana (or Brahmin), tolook after the ‘head’; the religious and spiritual endeavours, and education;
Kshatriya, the ‘arms’, to take care of public service, law and order, and defence;
Vaishya, the ‘stomach’, to deal with the commerce and business; and
Shudra, the ‘feet’, to perform semi-skilled and unskilled labour.
Castes were determined by birth and could not be altered. While this system may have ensured stability, it didn’t allow movement or intermarriage between classes. Worse, it created an underclass and excluded and ostracised whole groups of peoples as Harijan or “children of God” – more commonly known as Dalits or achuta: “Untouchables”.
While I was in India, I was told that the caste system itself was outlawed, but I can find no evidence supporting this. Since 1950, it has been against the law to actively discriminate against someone based on their caste, or to practice “untouchability”, but in practice, prejudice and even violence against India’s lower orders is still commonplace (e.g. Untouchable @ National Geographic Magazine; Human Rights Correspondence School).
Rajasthan’s desert nomadic peoples are a prime example of India’s contradictions. Even though they were “Untouchables”, gypsies were hired in the old days by kings and maharajas to provide exotic entertainment – “the Bopa are talented musicians and singers and the Kalbeliya are dancers and snake charmers” – and today they still subsist as semi-nomadic street performers. They are, however, still outsiders, and are seen by other Indians as “squatters and hustlers” and “dirty and aggressive beggars”. I was told, sotto voce, that many of the women are “entertainers”. Indeed, in some areas of Rajasthan, in the absence of educational and employment opportunities, prostitution has become their main source of income.
The two gypsy women I met, Anita and Moria, might be outside the Indian caste system, but they are proud, self-possessed, and sure of their own value. Even if Karl Grobl, our photo-tour guide had not warned tour participants of their toughness before he negotiated a contract with the sisters to pose for us, I would have felt no inclination to cross them. These young women, aged 18 and 25, with four small children between them, may be dressed in beads, fancy embroidery, and sequins, but they are as hardy as tempered steel!
Gypsy Sisters Wagons, camels, and the hills of Pushkar provide a backdrop for our Kalbeliya models.
Gypsy Dancing Anita dances as Moria and Pushkar fair-goers look on.
Skirts and scarves flying …
… the women manage to dance and twirl …
… on rough sand with no music!
Anita Posing
Moria and her Famous Dimple
Moria Posing
Sisters Chatting
Moria and Anita
It is hard to imagine what these bright, industrious women would have made of the their lives if they had had the kinds of opportunities we take for granted.
Perhaps they would change nothing –
The apparent contentment of many of India’s people is, for me, one of the most perplexing contradictions.
Thanks SO much, Karl. I do love the opportunities you provide! 😀ReplyCancel
Jan Lively -November 30, 2013 - 12:46 pm
Wow Ursula. . . .of course you remain amazing in both words and images.
Thanks for sharing and thanks for your part in helping to make Pushkar (before & after) so very memorable.
And I do so like my new moniker. . . Pushkar People. It was indeed wonderful being a part of it all !ReplyCancel
[…] Kalbeliya Gypsy Sisters Sisters Anita and Moira, dressed in their finery, perform dances for fair-goers. (See also: A Gypsy Portrait) […]ReplyCancel
[…] experience that – while I’ve already shared some of the images I made there (see: A Gypsy Portrait, Faces at the Camel Fair, and Scenes from a Fair) – I still have a large body of work to […]ReplyCancel
Horse Carriages and Dusty Streets The colonial hill town of Pyin Oo Lwin, Myanmar, is an odd mix of dilapidated development and old colonial grandeur.
Pyin Oo Lwin (or Maymyo), a small town67 kilometers (42 mi) east of Mandalay is an odd place, with it’s dusty streets and Wild-West look. According to Wikipedia: “The town began as a military outpost established near a small Shan village with two dozen households…”, becoming a permanent military town by 1896. Tour books will tell you the town still feels “anglicised” from the days of colonial rule, but this is only noticeable once you are away from the inner-city rubble and litter.
I’ve written about the town, and the flower markets in the streets outside it, before:
It was after our morning stop at the flower markets that we ten photography enthusiasts, along with photographer Karl Grobl and local guide Mr MM, piled into gaily painted wooden pony carts for a tour of the town and its surrounds.
Pony and Cart These dainty ponies hardly look strong enough to manage the cart and driver – even without three sturdy passengers with camera gear!
Decorated Pony With their plastic flowers and gaily decorated harnesses, the ponies were almost as colourful as their carts.
Boyz in the Hood A pony cart provides a nice (albeit unpredictably bumpy!) elevation from which to watch the life in the local streets.
“City” Street In spite of the shimmering heat, the puddles from the last downpour remain.
Tourists in the Pony Traps Soon we are out of the downtown, and into greener areas…
Life isn’t Perfect … but even here, things can be tough.
Candacraig Our first stop is at Candacraig, the oldest hotel in Myanmar.
Inside Candacraig Originally built in 1904 by the British Bombay Burma Timber Company for their expatriates, Candacraig is now a government-owned hotel.
Upstairs Candacraig Paul Theroux, the American travel writer and novelist, tells of his stop here in The Great Railway Bazaar (1975).
Bathing For all it’s teak splendour, Candacraig is little improved. People still bucket-bathe out the back.
Makeup Ready While we were there, Candacraig was being used as a set…
Singing On the Porch … for a music video. We weren’t sure if this was for a song, or part of a movie, as the actors were an ethnic minority whom our guide had trouble understanding.
Horse Carriage Meanwhile, our ponies were grazing.
Pony Driver
Pots and Pans Back in town centre, I had the opportunity to wander through the shops…
Market … and the fresh-food markets.
Flowers for Sale Here, too, Pyin Oo Lwin’s famous flowers are for sale.
Smiling Woman But, it is the people I enjoy the most.
Delivering Coconuts
Selling Rice
Selling Flour and Grain (The beetle-chewing starts young!)
At the Mechanics The absence of protective clothing in high-risk work areas is always noticeable. Of course, the weeping goldsmith flowers on the bike will appease any mischievous Nats (Burmese spirits), so everything will be fine!
At the Mechanics
Grocer Bottles, boxes and bags…
Selling Flowers – and just about everything else!
Truly a town of contrasts.
But, as is the case elsewhere in Myanmar, the smiles are never hard to find.
Mural #12 – Native Heritage – Chemainus First Nations Named for a legendary chief, the town of Chemainus, in the Cowichan Valley on Vancouver Island‘s east coast, has a rich First Nation cultural heritage. Painted in 1983 by Paul Ygartua, Vancouver, B.C.
Do you remember The Little Engine That Could? The story about the little blue engine who took on a job that was far too big, but through positive self talk (“I-think-I-can, I-think-I-can, I-think-I-can”) succeeded in pulling a long train over a high mountain pass?
Well, this is a story about The Little Town That Did.
Once upon a time, nestled between a mountain range and the Salish Sea, in the temperate District of North Cowichan on the east coast of Vancouver Island, there was a small town called Chemainus.
This small town always had a big spirit: it was named for the native shaman and prophet “Tsa-meeun-is” (Broken Chest), who, according to legend, survived a massive wound in his chest before becoming a powerful chief to his people: the Chemainus First Nation.
The rich natural resources of the Cowichan Valley provided all the necessities of life, first to generations of First Nations people, and then to the immigrants who came looking for riches and a better life.
Mining, fishing, and forestry were the original industries in the area, and the port of Chemainus was one of the first ports in the Pacific Northwest. Germans and Scots came to make their fortunes in the mining and lumber industries. Chinese worked in ‘bull gangs’, struggling to move huge lumber planks to the waiting ships. A sawmill was completed in 1862. Then the railroad arrived in the 1880s, bringing more work, and a wave of Japanese and East Indian labourers.
Life was good, and the people believed the riches would last forever.
But, with lumber the only viable industry, the town’s fortunes rose and fell with the price of wood products. By the late 1970’s, MacMillan Bloedel, who owned the mill, estimated losses of more than CD$15M in a two year period. The town was on its last legs.
Fortunately, Chemainus was still home to people with strong spirit and big vision. Using a grant from a provincial redevelopment fund, community leaders and a young Mayor Graham Bruce agreed to a proposal from local German immigrant Karl Schutz. Since the early 1970s, Schutz had been promoting the idea of having large, outdoor murals painted around the town. In 1982, the time was right and the first five murals were completed.
The next year, the mill, which had operated off and on for 120 years, closed for the last time.
But, the people of the Cowichan Valley didn’t lose hope. The Festival of Murals Society had been established, local and international artists had been commissioned, and the beautiful murals – all portraying local life, heritage, and history – were on track. The little town of Chemainus had put itself back on the map – this time as a popular tourist destination.
Tourist Transport Tour operators take visitors around the murals by horse-drawn carriage or by small steam train. During high season, locals dress in period costume to enhance the visitor experience.
Mural #11 – Temporary Homes Even chains get the local treatment! Painted in 1983 by David White, Nassau, Bahamas
Mural #18 – Julia Askew – first child of European ancestry born in Chemainus (February 22, 1871) An old school house gets a new treatment as a boutique fashion store. Painted in 1986 by Elizabeth Smily, West Vancouver
Mural #31 – 10th Anniversary Mural – The Lumber Barons JA Humbird (left), mill manager from 1924 and HR MacMillan (right), who bought the mill in 1944. Painted in 1992 by Constance Greig-Manning, assisted by Bill Manning, Kenilworth, Ontario (now residing in Chemainus).
Mural #36 – The Hermit Every laneway holds history… This one tells the story of Charlie Abbott, a long-time Chemainus character, who wandered into town in the 1970s and created a garden of paths and trails in the forest nearby. The Hermit Trails are now popular walking paths. Painted by Paul Ygartua (Vancouver BC) in 2004.
Trinkets for Sale Local shops attempt to benefit from the influx of tourists ~ selling a range of trinkets.
Old-Timers on a Bench Not all of Chemainus’ art-works are murals – a number of sculptures are installed around town.
Mural #22 – Leonora Mines at Mt. Sicker (right panel) Copper was mined at Mt. Sicker from May, 1897 to November, 1908. Today, virtually nothing remains of the once-thriving community. Painted in 1988 (with additions in 2001) by Peter Bresnen, Halifax, Nova Scotia
Mural #13 – Billy Thomas William Ishmael (Billy) Thomas, was the first male child of European ancestry born (1874) in the Chemainus Valley. He lived there for all of his 102 years. Painted in 1984 by Sandy Clark, Victoria, BC
Rope Master Bits of old machinery grace the flowerbeds around town.
Mural #1 – Steam Donkey Hauling logs out of the forest was a difficult and dangerous task. This steam donkey started work in Chemainus in 1885. Painted in 1982 by Frank Lewis and Nancy Lagana, Victoria, B.C, based on a 1902 photograph.
Mural #35 – 20th Anniversary Mural – First Chemainus Sawmill 1862 – Waterwheel Crescent This waterwheel is a replica of those that powered the early mills. Originally part of the grounds of the mill manager’s house, Waterwheel Park is now open to the public and includes a children’s playground. Painted in 2003 by Sylvia Verity Dewar, Chemainus, BC, with construction assistance from her husband Russ Dewar.
Mural #7 – Logging With Oxen In the 1890s, oxen were one of the main forms of “power” in logging. Painted in 1983 by Harold Lyon, Fountain Hills, Arizona
Mural #28 – No. 3 Climax Engine This little steam engine, painted on the side of what was an artist’s studio, hauled logs out of the Chemainus Valley in the late 1880s. Painted in 1991 by Dan Sawatzky, Chemainus, (now Chilliwack, BC).
Mural #26 – Chemainus – The War Years – Circa 1915 (detail) Farmers watch as soldiers go off to war. By the end of 1915, over fifteen percent of the local population had gone to fight – many never returned. Painted in 1989 by Susan Tooke Crichton, Halifax, Nova Scotia
Mural #19, “Mill Street in 1948”, Old shops and buildings lead down old Mill Street to the wharfs on Chemainus Harbour. Painted in 1986 by Mike Svob, Coquitlam B.C
Doll on the Stoop An old “character” welcomes us to one of many coffee shops.
Mural #3 – Steam Train On Bridge Over Chemainus River Locomotive No. 4 steams across a log bridge over the Chemainus River. Painted in 1982 by Paul Marcano, Victoria, B.C. (now Chilliwack)
We enjoyed following the yellow foot-prints along the sidewalks as they guided us to the various artworks, and we liked what we saw – but we didn’t get to see all of the forty-plus murals scattered around the town. Part way through the afternoon, the autumn skies closed over, the rains came, and we had to escape back to our car.
I’m not sure if the people of Chemainus will live happily-ever-after.
But, they’ve given themselves a new lease of life and determined their own path to the future.
Hello Congratulation, wonderful, excellent photos.
Just a correction CHEMAINUS is located in the CHEMAINUS Valley NOT Cowichan !!!
Karl Schutz Founder CFOM.ReplyCancel
Oh dear! Thanks, Karl – I’ll fix it as soon as I’ve got proper Internet!ReplyCancel
Troy Crabbe -July 11, 2015 - 5:01 pm
my grandfather lived on river road his whole life after fighting in world war two. he also gave back to his community by gardening and leaving a stand for others to have. No money was ask just to take what you need leave some for others. he was an icon of the town. if any honor you would give him some honor for all five boys of his help threw out the town. Frank, Buddy ( Alex), Mike ,Brian, and Ricky crabbe. those who know my family which is all of chemanius for they save many lives. thats my grand fathers book. I am the grand child of Alexander Crabbe. the second chapter of his family the or his book of life. thankyou for your time. God bless my home town and the ones that care.ReplyCancel
I went back to my original sources, and changed my wording to “Cowichan Valley Regional District” as this seems to include Chemainus (http://www.cvrd.bc.ca). I hope that’s ok now! 😀ReplyCancel
Hello Ursula – Thank you for writing about our community and our beautiful murals. I note some corrections that should be made. Re your July 11, 20125 post to Karl Schutz, Chemainus is not in the Cowichan Valley Regional District (CVRD), rather it is in the District of North Cowichan, and it is in the Chemainus Valley. Also, we are located in the temperate Chemainus Valley, not as you note at the beginning of your post. Another correction is in #31. It is Humbird, not Humberg, and he is not shaking hands with MacMillan. Mural #13 was painted by Sandy Clark, only. Thanks for making these changes to make your post more accurate.
Sincerely. Shannon Bellamy, Vice President, Chemainus Festival of Murals SocietyReplyCancel
Kylemore Abbey The ultimate anniversary gift: in 1867 Mitchell Henry, a wealthy London doctor, started building Kylemore Castle for his wife.
It seems like half the North Americans I have ever met have at least a drop or two Irish in them!
Not surprising, I suppose, in view of the continued growth of the Irish diaspora. Three million people outside Ireland (a country of less than 5 million internal residents) have legal claim to citizenship, and between 80 and 100 million more have Irish roots.
And those roots – even when well watered down – run deep! When was the last time you were in a city without an Irish pub? When was the last St Patrick’s Day you weren’t surrounded by “the wearing of the green”?
This connection goes both directions. In 1998, following the landmark Good Friday Agreement, which aimed to restore some peace to the island, the Republic of Ireland amended its Constitution. The amendments de-emphasised territory in favour of characterising the Irish nation as a community of individuals with a common identity, and included those beyond national borders “… the Irish nation cherishes its special affinity with people of Irish ancestry living abroad who share its cultural identity and heritage (Article 2, Constitution of Ireland).”
My little bit of Irish ancestry hails (albeit several generations ago – back in the 1840s) from the the Mayo-Galway region. Perhaps that is why, in spite of foul, wet weather, I felt right at home in the rugged west coast of Ireland.
Of course, after ten days of walking in the rain, we were also revelling in having the freedom of movement and shelter from the elements that a rental car brings. But, whatever the reason, we loved our three days in Galway and the wild Connemara region within it.
Here is just a taste of the wild, wild west coast.
Loch Lurgan or Cuan na Gaillimhe Looming skies stretched over the beach and water, as we lunched looking south towards Co. Clare, where we had stopped to eat only two days before.
Bicycle in the Rain We had to time our runs between shops, as the weather alternated between “raining” and “pouring”.
“Swim between the Flags” With the potential for rough seas, the lifeguard shelter is probably necessary. The only swimmers we saw were divers in full wetsuits. Galway Bay is cold!
Stone Fences The plots of land between the fences are so small, it is hard to imagine what they could be good for!
Heather and Broom The plants look rugged; I guess they have to be to survive in the west winds.
Connemara Peat Pile Peat farmers have a hard life – but fortunately are blessed with good hearts. My husband dropped his cell phone while I was photographing somewhere around here. What are the odds? A peat farmer found it – in the middle of a grassy nowhere! – and after we realised it was missing and phoned it, we were able to drive back and collect it.
Peat Cart
Hills and Bogs It’s a wild land, with a lot of open space.
Bóthar an Chladaigh As we drove along the Beach Road, Clifden, to find our accommodation, the light was falling over the moored boats on the low tide.
Clifden Boats Row boats take shelter at the boat launch.
Clifden Roads The narrow Sky Road winds across rough country.
Cows Gentle-looking bovines watch our passage.
Currach A traditional Irish row boat sits alone on the rocky shore.
Diamond Hill Rising out of the grasslands and bog cotton, Diamond Hill sits in Connemara National Park.
Diamond Hill Trails Paving stones, dirt paths, and wooden walkways lead up Diamond Hill. Footing was rather treacherous in the rain.
Bridge over Tumbling Waters
Misty Mountains By the time we got to the top of Diamond Hill it was raining heavily and blowing hard – but it was easy to see how magnificent the view would be on a nicer day.
Connemara Ponies The harsh landscape here has given rise to a breed of hardy but beautiful ponies. This little colt, who is only weeks old, stayed close to his dam.
Frog in the Grass
Connemara Bridge Back on the local roads, it is like driving through a different time.
Kylemore Abbey Our next stop is the fairytale Abbey, which started life as a private castle in 1871. After changing hands several times, it was bought by the Irish Benedictine Nuns in 1920. Until June 2010, the nuns operated a boarding and day school, with alumni including Indian royalty and Anjelica Huston.
Chaffinch (fringilla coelebs) Birds hang around the coffee shop, hoping for crumbs.
In the Drawing Room Part of Kylemore Castle is restored and open to the public.
The Church Margaret Henry, for whom Kylemore was originally built, died in 1874 after contracting dysentery in Egypt. She was 45 – and left behind nine children. Her grief-stricken widower, Mitchell Henry, built the gothic church, a cathedral-in-miniature, in her memory.
Woodland Walk It is a pleasant walk around the grounds, surrounded by trees and flowers.
Family Outing Some of the trails follow the lake. Others wander up into the surrounding hills.
The Connemara Giant “Conn, Son of the Sea, Built in 1999 by Joyce’s Craft Shop, for No Apparent Reason” in a little town called Recess. (iPhone S4)
David Howley and Garry O’Meara Where else would you finish up a few days of seeing the sights in Galway but in a pub? J. Conneely’s Bar in Clifden is known for its traditional music and these guys were terrific – in fact Garry is Ireland’s Junior Banjo Champion.
Wild, windswept coasts, quirky and original crafts, fairytale castles – beautiful, intelligent Connemara ponies; mountain ranges and piles of peat…
Love stories and stories of loss and hardship – warmhearted, hardworking people, always ready to share a tale, a pint, and a tune.
[…] our way to Dublin (The Guinness Storehouse), zig-zagging across the country from the Connemara (Glimpses of Galway), stopping at sites from the Michelin Guide that took my fancy along the way […]ReplyCancel
Battle of the Marionettes Life imitates art at the Mandalay Marionettes Theatre.
It was hot. And dark. And – unless you enjoy clanging discordant pentatonic music – noisy.
It was almost time for the evening performance at the Mandalay Marionettes Theatre. As we filed into the tiny space, a small band played Burmese classics to welcome us.
Welcome Music The Mandalay Yoke-Soun-Thabin Band plays the musical prelude.
Marionettes for Sale While waiting for the performance, I amused myself by examining the marionettes on the walls.
Saung – Traditional Burmese Harp The sounds of the saung were much more to my musical tastes! It’s a boat-shaped, sixteen-stringed harp made from padauk (pterocarpus) wood, acia catechu wood, and deerskin.
No Strings! The first act is a traditional burmese dance –
Burmese Dancer – performed by a beautiful young child.
The White Horse According to myth, the Himalayan Range was home to many animals and demons. The horse’s head is the first constellation in Buddhist cosmology.
Monkey King As anyone who has watched the classic Japanese children’s show Saiyūki, or Monkey Magic, knows, the monkey king is ever-present in Buddhist stories –
Himalayan Scene – and, amid the crashing and banging of cymbals and gongs, there is bound to be a battle.
Belu Demons Battle Scene Whew! We have a victor!
Zaw-Gyi, the Alchemist Another popular traditional character, the Zaw-Gyi, is a demigod who lives in the forest.
Comical Dance Portraying two popular rural villagers, an old bachelor and an old spinster, this was meant to be a humorous and romantic dance. Truthfully, except for the costumes, I couldn’t tell the difference!
“Anything you can do…” A marionette watches while a child takes its turn at the dance. I was amused that the child, too, had a puppet-master.
Puppet Master
The Prince and Princess The last piece, about a prince coming home from his studies and introducing his intended to his family, is considered “the most beautiful and sentimental performance”. (Fortunately, we were given programmes; I would never have deduced the story otherwise!)
Enter the Clowns The Prince and Princess are flanked by clowns who are meant to entertain them. The back curtain is raised again, allowing us to watch the puppet masters at work.
Watching the Puppet Master Elderly Puppet Master U Pan Aye clearly takes joy in the dance his Prince is performing.
Female Puppet Master Soon, it is the turn of the protege to operate her Princess.
Puppet Master U Pan Aye After the performance, the Puppet Master comes out to meet the small audience, smiling with pride at our pleasure in his show.
YokeThay, traditional Myanmar puppet theatre, dates back several centuries. It was entertainment, held in high esteem by royalty, but also served to communicate news, stories, and moral lessons to everyone. Today, with more modern entertainments readily available, traditional marionette performances are a dying art.
This small troupe in Mandalay is working hard to pass on all the requisite Burmese traditions (dancing, music, sculpture, sequining, embroidery, and painting) that go into keeping all aspects of this folk art alive. Tourists are their life-blood, as they bring their ancient art-form to the world, and once again use it to take part in social welfare and education in local communities.
The Mandalay Marionettes Theatre is specifically aimed at tourists: to give them an insight into ancient Myanmar culture. It was entertaining – but I was glad it only lasted an hour! The subtleties of the different performances escaped me, and the combination of noise, low light, and heat soon had my head pounding.
Temple on Mandalay Hill
I was pleased to escape back to my room, where I could look up at one of the temples on Mandalay Hill, and imagine those earlier days.
For, as the marionettes tried to show me, Myanmar is a magic place.
I hope the theatre can help keep Burmese art and culture alive for future generations.
This is the best reportage I’ve seen about the Mandalay Marionettes, bravo on great images and a thorough education about the performance. Can’t wait for your next blog post!ReplyCancel
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
Truly a town of contrasts.
Enjoyable & as always educational. : )
Thanks to my biggest fan! 😀
Beautiful images, expertly narrated…Bravo!
Thanks SO much, Karl. I do love the opportunities you provide! 😀
Wow Ursula. . . .of course you remain amazing in both words and images.
Thanks for sharing and thanks for your part in helping to make Pushkar (before & after) so very memorable.
And I do so like my new moniker. . . Pushkar People. It was indeed wonderful being a part of it all !
Aaawe, Jan, I’d do a trip with you and Lew any day! Thanks for your kind words – and chocolate; thanks for the chocolate.
[…] Kalbeliya Gypsy Sisters Sisters Anita and Moira, dressed in their finery, perform dances for fair-goers. (See also: A Gypsy Portrait) […]
[…] experience that – while I’ve already shared some of the images I made there (see: A Gypsy Portrait, Faces at the Camel Fair, and Scenes from a Fair) – I still have a large body of work to […]