Julien Dorol photos blog

I was walking near Pokhara, the lake is Phewa "in Nepal. I walked aimlessly, or intention to shoot anything. this was already several hours I hiking when I arrived in a small village bordering the rice fields.

A halt was well deserved and I decided to stop in a kind of coffee. I enjoy a quiet "Masala Chai" and then, a great lover of tea, I ordered a second. I let myself gently rocking back and forth by the incessant passing of all kinds: carts loaded with straw, rice, cycling, men and women returning from the fields, kids stalking poor dog who was peeled on the way back from the school ... I scrutinize tirelessly this sweet effervescence still soothes me.

Not far from me, stands a small audience. Some elders are gathered around a tree and actively discuss I do not know what subjects. Even if I try to jabber bases of the local language, I am unable to identify the subject of argument. But I'd give a lot to understand what it is.

Among the members of this mini senate, a man seems to stand out. It seems to be the oldest, and seems to have the respect of others. I'm already on my third Masala Chai when suddenly assembled dispersed leaving only the old man enthroned by his tree. Then it extends on the carpet on which he sat and began a nap. So i had a bunch of questions: Is it wise of the village, how old is he, he always lived here? Certainly. My imagination is bubbling.

After a while of reading (I always have a book with me when traveling), I decided to continue my journey and go quietly. The man has done with his nap and now sits in a squatting position, like the Asians do so well know for hours, smoking a cigarette with two or three friends. Really, this former seems to be a person of importance in this town.

While I get up and gather my belongings, I noticed that the man seemed puzzled by my person. I understand now that my hair's the subject of questioning. I will pay my consumption, and leaving the small "coffee" man calls me. Surprised at first, I look around me if we speak good words, silly reaction because all the attention of the man seems to be focused on me. Frankly intimidated, I approached the elderly man. It beckons me to approach a little more, looking for me he would look at my hair. Even more intimidating to be inspected by the "wise" of the village, I lean, leaving him plenty of time to satisfy his curiosity. analysis and capillary theories seem to be on track between former assistants, while sketching a smile, amused by the spontaneity of my monitors.

Once the results and conclusions drawn, the kindly old dismisses me approvingly. I lr wagging (so to acquiesce Nepalese) as a sign of respect and then, using all my insolence, I asked him if I can take a picture. The man accepts without hesitation and without delay I leave my camera from the bottom of my bag. I frame, trigger, the former pose like a movie star, I'm ecstatic. The latter, concerned about his image asks me to see the result. I turn the camera, consult the wise man once more these assistants and returned the case with me once more approvingly. I thanked him respectfully, then went back to my destination.

I especially like this picture because the former is an expression inspiring assurance of a man of experience (as I felt on seeing one else), and an air of star that I adore ...

But what pleases me most about this picture is that it is the result of a shared curiosity, an exchange where everyone has found his account.

This is how I conceive of travel photography, and I try to practice it.

Tags: nepal portrait man