Julien Dorol photos blog

I strolled calmly through the streets of a medieval-style city of Nepal. The weather was wet, it would certainly rain. The sun filtered through the cloud layer, spread a soft light golden hue. After a few detours and street corners, I arrived at one of the main squares of the city: a large area paved with red brick courtyard that serves as a Hindu temple that sits proudly at the end of the square.

I move to the old and imposing building and see him sitting at the entrance, an odd-looking character. It is a beggar who took up residence at the porch of the temple. It meets my gaze, then, under his thick whitish beard, gives me a smile. I hello, clasping both hands and one, a gesture of welcome, inviting me to settle down on the porch and spend a moment. I accept this invitation and sit at one end of the porch.

From this promontory divine, I watch the excitement of the place and I lost in my thoughts. I gaze at this stage at the pace that sometimes takes theatrical comedy areas: children fighting over a kite, dogs who run after goats that wander aimlessly around the square, women dressed sumptuous brightly colored saris, elders who spend time looking, tractor carrying fruits, vegetables, chickens, pottery ... the whole life flashes before my eyes endlessly. I guess there are a few centuries, the same scene is played the same way. An old man sat down near me and stared the sweet effervescence, just to let time slip.

A light rain began to fall eventually. Paving The normally dull and rough appearance, began to shine, reflecting the soft ambient light. The place seemed then drape a fabric woven with gold thread and the pavement shone like ingots sunlight. The atmosphere was amazing, almost unreal. The old man installed by me, as inspired by this peaceful atmosphere, began to hum a traditional tune somewhat melancholy. His voice, eroded by years, was in perfect harmony with the surroundings and made this magic moment. All the elements seemed to have combined to offer me this sublime spectacle. Leaning against the old walls of the temple, I was calm, serene, relaxed and deeply moved by such beauty.

I said then that the beggar had not asked for anything in this porch. It was like this one, like a guardian of the temple, told me:

- "Just take the time to discover what this place has ancestral to show you. Come hear what these walls, loaded with hundreds of years of history, you have to pass. Laying roof and observe quietly. "

I would leave the temple completely calm and I respectfully saluted the "gatekeeping" before descending the stairs.

I took a picture of this rather unusual Guardian a few days later. I returned several times under the porch of the temple for me to relax, read, write, think, and the beggar asked me every time the same way.

Sometimes it is good to slow down or even stop. Knowing time letting go without because of the imperative, losing time, we gain much sometimes.

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 break 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 relentlessly the sweet effervescence that 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 he covers 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. Certainly, the former seems to be a person of importance in this town.

While I get up and gather my things, I noticed that the man seemed puzzled by my person. I understand now that my hair's the subject of questioning. I'm going to pay for my drinks, and leaving the small "coffee" the 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 old 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" the village I am leaning, leaving him ample opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. analysis and capillary theories seem to be on track between the former assistants, while sketching a smile, amused by the spontaneity of my observers.

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 am in heaven. 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.