... at a School in Sinai, Egypt, 2000 by Cassian Edwards

A Day Talking Sea Turtles at a School in Sinai, Egypt, 2000.

In 2000 I worked on a sea turtle conservation project in Egypt, researching nesting distribution along the Mediterranean shoreline of northern Sinai. At the time little was known about where turtles nested along these beaches, and our study was the first to research the area between Port Said at the northern end of the Suez Canal in the west, and the border with Palestine and the Gaza Strip in the east. The main aim of our research was to a) find out where sea turtles nested along this 200km stretch of shoreline, and b) to estimate hatching success of each nest, i.e. how many of the eggs that were laid resulted in a turtle hatchling leaving the nest.

During the summer season female sea turtles crawl out of the ocean and up the shore at night time to nest, mainly where lights are low and human activity is at a minimum, leaving characteristic tracks as they do so. Once they have found a suitable spot - and so long as they are not disturbed - they will dig a small hole in the sand and lay upwards of sixty eggs at a time before covering the nest over and returning back to the sea. These eggs hatch approximately two months later, the hatchlings venturing down the beach and out to sea.

Working with my Egyptian colleagues we conducted daily surveys of sections of the northern Sinai beachfront over the summer looking for turtle tracks; if we found tracks we would then ascertain if a nest had been made and eggs laid in it, before recording the location and leaving it alone. Nests were then returned to on a regular basis thereafter, especially towards the end of the two month incubation period. By revisiting nests and counting the shells that were left behind, which would often have incomplete embryos in them, we were able to estimate the hatching success of each nest.

This photo shows residual Loggerhead turtle shells left behind in a nest that had hatched. Fifty-five eggs were laid of which fifty hatched - a hatching success rate of 90.91%.

Towards the end of my time in Egypt my team and I gave a talk about sea turtles to a junior school in the town of Sheikh Zuweid, near Rafah at the Egyptian border with the Gaza Strip. Most of the children were from Bedouin families and hardly any of them had seen a Westerner like me before! They had, however, seen turtle tracks and quite a few of them had dug up the eggs to eat; others had also consumed turtles caught by fishermen even though under Egyptian law it is illegal to do either. Likewise, many Bedouin women drink the iron-rich turtle blood as it is believed to help boost fertility. Yet the fact remains that the number of sea turtles in the Mediterranean Sea has sadly declined massively over the last few decades, and continues to do so.

So we were asked by the Egyptian Environmental Affairs Agency to talk to the children and their parents about the turtles, in the hope that in time perhaps they would act as the turtle’s future guardians. Class by class we went around the school talking about the natural history of these incredible animals, to the delight and intrigue of everyone, for most knew next to nothing about them! We also gave out notepads with pictures of turtles on the front and back with writing about their life-cycle inside, and we spent hours answering question after question about these animals which have been around since dinosaur times! The kids were fascinated!

Admittedly my Arabic wasn’t that great, in fact very basic, so it was my Egyptian colleagues who did most of the talking. But thankfully I had remembered to bring a camera with me, and I was able to capture the amazing attentive faces of these wonderful children, as well as the joy and excitement they expressed at having an ‘outsider’ and someone ‘new’ come to their school for the day! It really was a fun and eventful day, as I hope the pictures show. But the true magic for me was that last year I was contacted by one of the girls who I photographed at that school after she had seen a photo that I had posted online. Back then in 2000 she was 9 years old, but now she was 29, Dr Hasan, a dentist, and running her own dental practice in Cairo! And although she didn’t end up as a marine ecologist like me, she sure remembered all about the life-cycle of the sea turtle and that incredibly enjoyable day when I came to visit and talk to her school about the animals.

Cassian Edwards

The incredible story of Lidia, Jesús y Toti by Federico Borobio

We arrived in Santa Ana del Valle, Oaxaca, in the middle of siesta time. Almost like a stereotype, a skinny dog crossing the deserted central plaza, a woman half-opening the door of her house and peeking outside. Her face, the blue apron and the door in the same color immediately triggered my photographic alerts and I approached her. We began to talk immediately. Behind her we could see an old wooden loom and adobe walls. As soon as I asked her about it, she invited us in. In fact, she insisted that we do so and get to know the century-old house. I was accompanied by Ray, the 87-year-old street photographer I met in Oaxaca, and his good friend Carlos, who usually acted as the guide. So it was that we spent the afternoon with Lidia García and her dog Toti, a scrawny, lazy Great Dane who loved to be petted as much as he loved to sprawl in the fresh dirt yard.

On my side, I interspersed questions about her life and shooting with my little Lumix, while she continued talking quite naturally. She mentioned that she was in fact used to the cameras, as she had participated in several commercials and even in a movie, called Los Angeles. We were all dumbfounded: the charming Toltec weaver from this town with 2000 inhabitants, on film sets, was not in our plans. But this was just the first surprise, an introduction to the incredible story that was to come.

Lidia told us that her role was as the mother of a teenager leaving his small town in Mexico to seek for luck in the United States and help his family. We noticed that she slowly began to break down. Sadness came over her, eyes reddened, tears flowed. I lowered my camera. She took some time, pulled herself together, and began to explain to us the reason for the emotion she could not contain: the story of the film and her personal story were incredibly similar. Her own son, Jesús, had left as a young boy for the United States many years before, and she never heard from him again. Nothing, no contact, Lidia did not even know if he was alive. But it did not end there. No.

In fact, during the making of the film she was overcome with grief, which prompted the director to come over to see what was going on, and Lidia told him. Damian John Harper, born in Boulder, Colorado, was 36 years old at the time. Possibly the same age as Jesús. Moved, he promised Lidia that he would find her son. As you can imagine, by this point in the story, we were completely stunned and expectant of the ending. And the ending happened at the premiere of the movie: that day Jesús appeared and was reunited with his mother after years without any contact. Movie ending (worth the expression, of course). Ray, Carlos and I breathed a sigh of relief, incredulous, happy, smiling. Toti sensed the change in the atmosphere and saw the opportunity. He stood up on his long, gangly legs and joined the scene by promenading his head under Ray's big rough hands.

Federico Borobio

AI: artificial and human stupidity

The child was wearing a costume, but the AI was unable to recognize it as such.

However, we decided not to argue with FB and agreed to delete the image without penalizing the photographer.

This is such a sweet story by Dick Verton.

"Capturing the Spirit: A Visual Journey through the Galway Races" by Steve Scott

**Capturing the Spirit**

**by Steve Scott**

The Galway Races, with its rich and captivating history, dating back to the early 18th century began as a local affair has blossomed into an international spectacle, drawing race-goers and horse enthusiasts from all corners of the globe. Nestled in the heart of Galway, Ireland, this iconic event has woven itself into the fabric of the region's culture and holds an indelible place in the hearts of both local residents and racing enthusiasts worldwide, from the electrifying atmosphere of the Galway Plate and the Galway Hurdle to the elegance of Ladies' Day.

For Galwegians, The Galway Races are more than just a sporting event – they are an integral part of the city's identity and heritage. The races provide a platform for showcasing Galway's vibrant culture, hospitality, and sense of community. Locals take immense pride in welcoming visitors and sharing the joy of the races, making it a true celebration of their hometown.

Athenry Car Boot Sale

Steve Scott

The Valley Of Peace by Tanmoy Chatterjee

Once again, Tanmoy Chatterjee tells a strong story with his images of places and people, reconstructing his sensations for us. Tanmoy’s work is an excellent example of how to narrate with pictures and words. It’s a situation beautifully portrayed.

Capturing The Serenity Amidst The Shadows is a great caption for this story that tells us about a territory so out of the international spotlight but at the centre of a perennial conflict.

Capturing The Serenity Amidst The Shadows

In the heart of turmoil, the Valley of Kashmir emerges as a haven of tranquility. Captured through my lens a decade ago, these images defy the chaos that intermittently engulfs the region. The landscape, kissed by the Himalayan embrace, reveals a resilience that transcends conflict.

Markets bustle with life as artisans and merchants persist, undeterred by shadows that threaten to linger. Amidst unrest, families gather, sharing stories under starlit skies, and children's laughter rings through meadows untouched by time.
Pilgrimage sites stand as pillars of hope, their spiritual significance transcending the clamor of discord. These images reflect a Kashmir that yearns for peace, a Kashmir where moments of tranquility persist against the odds.

The valley's narrative ebbs and flows, yet these photographs serve as an enduring testament to a community's determination to embrace life amidst uncertainty. As the years pass, they remain a visual testament to a people's unwavering spirit, preserving hope for a future where serenity triumphs over chaos.

Tanmoy Chatterjee is a National Award Winning (Government of India), travel and documentary photographer based in Kolkata, India. With an experience of more than 20 years in this field, he has travelled across India, documenting various festivals, cultures and historical places.

The Festival Of Durga Puja

The Darjeeling Himalayan Railways

instagram

Learn more

Kids Playing in the Ghats of Kolkata by Debraj Purkayastha

**Kids Playing in the Ghats of Kolkata**

**Debraj Purkayastha**

Kolkata, also known as the "City of Joy," seamlessly blends traditions, culture, and memories with its bustling urban landscape.

One of the city's nostalgic memories is of children playing in the iconic ghats*, which have always been a hub of joy, recreation, and bonding for people of all ages, creating a lasting nostalgia that warms the hearts of those who have grown up witnessing these enchanting scenes. Located primarily along the banks of the Hooghly River, the ghats have been integral to Kolkata's culture and history for centuries, serving as gathering points for spiritual rituals, leisurely strolls, and heartwarming interactions.

*a flight of steps leading down to a river

DEBRAJ PURKAYASTHA PHOTOGRAPHY

Debraj Purkayastha

ghats of Kolkota

Focus On Christophe Boch

I chose to feature Christophe for this Focus On because his photographic style is refreshingly progressive. While we typically avoid images with exaggerated structure, Christophe's personal technique is exceptional and always unique. We love exploring different styles and spirits, so now I'll hand it over to him:

It's often difficult to me to find the words when I was ask to explain my Photographic Universe, and Especialy that "So Particular" style I put in the actual Photography Landscape. Usualy I was ask about technic, but for me technic comes in a second time only when I paint my Photographies. Yes like a said, I paint my Photographies, I don't edit them... It's totaly different in the Philosophy I bring throught my Photography Art.

I would particulary thanks my dear Friend Batsceba Hardy who told me "Ok" when I ask here if I can express myself "freely" in this interview.

Pearaps, I would really thanks again Progressive Street Photography, because like you know, my style will sweat perfect to the term of "Progressive".

I was born as a Medium, so since child I "See" and Fell some invisible things who surounded us. That's the reason my work is a real Mystical process and initiation in Other Worlds and Universes as thoose who we usualy know.

"Reality" like you cold that, isn't Real !

That's a fact ! We are All a Product of Cosmos before being childrens of Hearth. And my Cosmic vision, is Simply unique. I speak about cause it's important, but I was nursed by a Dog when I was a Child. So I have the Vision of an Animal, not as a Human.

When I start in Photography, I was working Only in colors, but always using the same Artistic Process, let my Soul play and Paint my works. I'm just the Eye who catch the Scenary. That's all, All who come after is my purest mystical Soul Expression. Without technic. Only Feeling. Feeling and only feeling. Cause if you look good at my works, You will see much more than just "One" Photography. You will find an Infinite numbers of differents pictures in just one of my catch.

Concerning the "Magic" that's most difficult to explain. I bring often High contrasts, Deep blacks, and Whites, always chasing Light in each catch, to bring out of my Pictures, What I see as Medium with a Cat Eye, and I'm sure of one thing, you Feel my Photography, before You watch it... So I let you try the Experience, to find in Yourself a Totaly other Dimension in your Own Art. That's what a teach to my Students. To dive deeper in their photos, to Bring out a Real Dimension and Show something more than just a pic.

I'm just a Visionar, before being a Photographer.

That's All.

If you want to know more, Feel free to contact me my Dear Friends.

An Other point I want to add, I try to use modern technology to bring out the Essence as The Giants like Cartier Bresson, Daïdo Moriyama, Marc Riboud had in their works at the All begining of "modern" Photography. Like I usualy say, I don't make photography, it's Photography who make me.

Christophe Boch

TheShooter

Trafalgar Square in 1984 by Eyal Izhar

Many years have passed and I'm almost certain it was the summer in London, 1984. Or maybe it was the summer of 1987 when I went back to London for my honeymoon. But how stupid i would have been to take the wonderful Metz 45ct and my old Hasselblad with me on my honeymoon. So yes, it was the summer of 1984 when I arrived on a vacation and was foolish enough and curious enough to be dragged along as a tourist with such equipment for street photography in a foreign city. An attempt to continue with my street photography ( I think this term didn't exist at the 80' ) , taking snapshots using a hand held Hasselblad camera, that I had already begun in Israel, exploring human behavior in open spaces, families and tourists in public, moving, relating to each other, exploring the relation to the surrounding, the subjects's physical gestures.
What caught my eye in Trafalgar Square was the human diversity, locals but especially the tourists who always intrigue me as a photographer. I'm fascinated by the observing and photography of foreigners from different cultures, who comes from afar and spends a short time in a new, intriguing and challenging environment when his foreignness, in clothing, in language, in awe of the new and unfamiliar is evident. People came to feed and take pictures and especially to be excited by pigeons. If there's a bird I really don't like, it's a pigeon. And on the streets, for photographers, it's not always easy with people. So that's Two barriers that need to be dealt with. And in general, to come from India or the USA to London, feed a pigeon and take a picture with it? Is this the best that London has to offer?
I don't know much about those taking pictures with pigeons: not the country of origin, not social status, not the purpose of the visit. I only know that they are so happy in those seconds when London's doves is with them , on them.
Each frame here is the single shot taken. Kind of high stakes. When there are only 12 frames in the roll, the camera has no motor, I couldn't shoot more and more.

Eyal Izhar

Place project: the reception hall at Ben Gurion Airport, Israel by Uri Zilberman

In the process of the project the focusing change from people to balloons. We noticed that the balloons actually talk instead of the people. Just like the body speaks for us. Just as the echoes of a headache, for example, are the words that are stuck in our head, the words that we are afraid to say - so the balloons also speak to us about our feelings. For example, that young man who holds a red heart balloon and indicates with an embossment that he is waiting for a beloved girlfriend or the grandfather who holds a balloon in the shape of a bear. It is not difficult to understand that he is waiting for a grandson or granddaughter. Or that group of young people who are holding a bunch of balloons designed in the shape of a flower and are probably waiting for older relatives. And let's not forget the street artists who specialized in designing different shapes for balloons. What does it mean? The shape is a language. Each balloon is a word, sentence, saying and even a whole story. No wonder I encountered in the reception hall those who held balloons for a long time and did not let go. If they slack off a little, the words will disappear out of the

Sharing the project I spent long hours at the airport. And I was amazed to see the amount of balloons there. That is, they also have a cultural-local aspect. In the old days, people welcomed those who came only themselves. No balloons, or flowers. Then there were the placards with the inscriptions of "Welcome back" and then moved to flowers. Now is probably the time of the balloons. It is enough to look at the ceiling of the reception hall. There are no end balloons stuck there. A carpet of balloons. There are special people who take down the balloons from the ceiling once a week. It’s, update their quantity and popularity. In other words, I have no choice but to concentrate on the balloons. I understood that they are the most accurate for the story of the meeting and with all the strengths and subtleties. If so, the more accurate name of the project is: balloons instead of people or the balloons that talk.

Furthermore, I noticed that the balloons tell the whole story. it even occurred to me that the balloons tell us the story of the meeting before the meeting, while waiting, even before the meeting. As the camera captures the moment, so the balloons are constantly holding emotions. They are the emotions themselves.

Uri Zilberman

Winter in Transylvania

Athenry Car Boot Sale by Steve Scott

Photography has always been a captivating medium for preserving memories and capturing the essence of a moment in time. As a resident of Athenry, Co. Galway, I have found myself drawn to a particular event that encapsulates the vibrancy and diversity of our local community—the car boot sale. This bustling gathering of sellers and buyers, held in the heart of Athenry, has become a significant part of my life, inspiring me to document its unique charm through the lens of my camera. In this short introduction, I will share my passion for photographing the local car boot sale and explain why it holds a special place in my heart.

One of the reasons I am drawn to photographing the local car boot sale is the incredible diversity it offers. Every month, people from all walks of life gather at this event to sell a wide range of goods, from antiques and collectibles to second-hand clothing and household items. The dynamic nature of the car boot sale means that each visit is a fresh opportunity to discover something new, capturing the excitement and surprises that unfold before my lens.

Beyond the commercial aspect, the car boot sale serves as a meeting point for the local community. It fosters a sense of camaraderie as neighbors, friends, and even strangers come together to exchange stories, haggle over prices, and form connections. These interactions create an atmosphere filled with laughter, enthusiasm, and a shared sense of purpose. Through my photography, I strive to capture these human connections, freezing them in time and showcasing the strong sense of community that thrives at the car boot sale.

Furthermore, the car boot sale provides a unique insight into the cultural tapestry of Athenry. From traditional Irish crafts and homemade baked goods to vintage artifacts that reflect our heritage, this event becomes a microcosm of our town's rich history and traditions. By photographing these elements, I aim to celebrate and preserve the essence of our local culture, documenting the diverse tapestry that exists within our community.

In addition to its cultural significance, the car boot sale also serves as a treasure trove of visual inspiration. The colorful stalls, interesting displays, and curious items on offer present an abundance of photographic opportunities. From close-up shots of intricate trinkets to candid portraits of enthusiastic shoppers, each photograph encapsulates a unique story, a moment frozen in time that allows me to share the captivating allure of the car boot sale with others.

In conclusion, photographing my local car boot sale in Athenry, Co. Galway has become a deeply cherished endeavor. Through my camera lens, I have discovered a captivating world filled with diverse characters, vibrant interactions, and a deep-rooted sense of community. This ongoing visual documentation not only allows me to preserve precious memories but also serves as a tribute to the rich cultural heritage and unique charm that defines our local car boot sale.

Steve Scott

A JOURNEY OF TRANSFORMATION by Prachi Nisha Shetty

DOCUMENTING PANDHPUR WARI

Life-changing experiences are often unexpected, taking us on journeys that challenge our perspectives and transform our lives forever. One such profound encounter in my life was documenting the extraordinary pilgrimage of Pandharpur Wari. This sacred journey, undertaken by millions of devotees, unravelled the essence of devotion, spirituality, and human connection. As I embarked on this adventure, little did I know that it would not only change my perception of faith but also leave an indelible mark on my soul.

The sun-drenched streets of Pandharpur reverberated with divine energy as the rhythmic chants of "Vithoba Mauli" filled the air. The annual Wari pilgrimage, dedicated to Lord Vithoba, had commenced. Armed with my camera and a heart brimming with anticipation, I joined the sea of devotees marching towards the holy city. The magnitude of this spiritual odyssey struck me as I witnessed people from diverse backgrounds united by their unwavering faith.

With every step I took, I encountered people with stories etched onto their faces. The devotion in their eyes was both captivating and humbling. Old and young, rich and poor, all came together, transcending societal boundaries. In their hearts, there was no room for differences; there was only the shared love for their beloved Lord Vithoba. The energy that surged through the crowds was electrifying, infused with an unyielding belief that transformed ordinary people into spiritual beings.

Pandharpur Wari not only evoked religious fervour but also offered a glimpse into the tapestry of humanity. As I interacted with fellow pilgrims, I discovered stories of sacrifice, resilience, and compassion. Strangers became friends, sharing meals and moments of laughter. The burden of their lives seemed momentarily lifted, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose. In that space, I witnessed the power of collective devotion and the beauty of human connection.

The Wari pilgrimage was not merely a physical journey but a cultural kaleidoscope. The music, dance, and rituals intertwined harmoniously, reflecting the vibrant heritage of Maharashtra. The rhythmic beats of the mridang drums echoed through the streets, invoking primal energy. Dancers twirled, their vibrant attire creating a visual symphony. I captured these moments, aiming to encapsulate the essence of this rich cultural mosaic, forever preserving it in my photographs.

Amidst the chaos and exuberance, I found a quiet space within myself—a sanctuary for introspection and self-discovery. Pandharpur Wari became a mirror through which I confronted my own beliefs, values, and aspirations. It taught me that spirituality transcends religious dogmas and resides in the depths of our hearts. I questioned my own faith, grappling with the concept of devotion and the nature of the divine connection. This pilgrimage offered me the opportunity to explore my own spirituality and redefine my relationship with the divine.

As the Wari drew to a close, an overwhelming sense of gratitude enveloped me. Gratitude for the privilege of witnessing this transformative journey, for the people who shared their stories, and for the profound impact it had on my own life. I realized that documenting Pandharpur Wari was not just about capturing moments through the lens but about preserving a sacred legacy for generations to come.

Documenting the Pandharpur Wari was an experience that shattered the boundaries of my own perceptions and allowed me to witness the boundless power of devotion and human connection. It revealed the intricate threads that weave us together as a society, reminding me of our shared humanity. Through my photographs, I hope to convey the vibrancy, beauty, and profound spirituality of this pilgrimage. Pandharpur Wari will forever hold a cherished place in my heart—a testament to the transformative power of faith, culture, and the indomitable spirit of the human soul.

The pilgrimage not only invited me to witness the transformative power of faith in others but also encouraged me to embark on my own path of self-realization. As I reflect on the transformative experience of documenting Pandharpur Wari, the serendipitous alignment of my birthday on the 21st with the 21-day duration of the pilgrimage becomes a remarkable coincidence that deepens the significance of this journey. I sought to encapsulate the magnificence of this cultural tapestry, preserving the essence of these traditions within my 21 captured images.

Prachi Nisha Shetty

Pandharpur Wari

Luck, money and work

On June 3, I went with two friends to the city of Florida, about 100 km from Montevideo, to see and photograph the celebration of “San Cono”, which takes place every June 3, on each anniversary of its arrival to the city.
It was predicted that it would rain but except for some slight drizzle and heavy and threatening clouds, the weather accompanied the walk.

“Cono of Teggiano” was an Italian religious born in the city of Teggiano in the 12th century AD. in the Salerno region (Italy). Considered a saint by the local inhabitants, they transferred their cult from Teggiano to America, especially to the Uruguayan city of Florida 138 years ago and people came to pray for luck, money and work.

That day in the lottery game, the numbers corresponding to June (6) and 3, are limited since there are thousands of people who bet on those “lucky” numbers.

Beyond the traditional procession, which always takes place at 2 pm, there are many other celebrations that constitute a great popular festival and tourist attraction, so we assumed that it would be a good idea to visit and take photos.

Throughout the week there are musical shows, a paragliding show, a circus, rural tourism proposals, activities at the hippodrome and many others, apart from the religious celebration itself.

The image of the saint is not administered by the religious authority but by a community of descendants of immigrants who publicize the festivity.

Since we arrived in the city, the great movement of buses from all parts of the country that brought the pilgrims was appreciated. There were closed streets, full restaurants and thousands of people everywhere. A true festival of colour, aromas, music and the bustle of street vendors.

Since the early morning, around the Chapel of San Cono, a huge fair has been set up with stalls selling candles, stamps, key rings, pins and images of the saint everywhere, but in addition to these religious objects there are stands with stalls selling food, clothes, toys, stones, jewellery and thousands of other things.

Some people arrive the day before and make a real camp near the chapel with the objects they sell.

Outside the procession circuit, the locals also offer all kinds of things at their doorsteps, from pizza, hot water, empanadas, caramelized peanuts, churros, hot dogs, puffed corn, barbecue, and even clothing or handicrafts. The city seemed to have been transformed into a large outdoor mall.

Usually the chapel is visited by thousands of people, but on the day of San Cono an immensity of men and women, children and entire families arrive.

Everyone tries to get close to the image of San Cono, touching his clothes, caressing him, leaving him offerings, giving him money and hanging rosaries, bracelets, watches, rings and all kinds of offerings.

At the back of the chapel there is a room for offerings. There are various bicycles, bridal gowns, diverse clothing, sports shirts, showcases full of valuable rings, necklaces, bracelets, watches and other diverse jewellery, dolls and the widest variety of imaginable offerings.

That room is guarded by the police and you can't take pictures. When I consulted the reason for this ban, they told me that it was because that room had been robbed on a few occasions and they did not want its content to be disclosed.

With difficulty we found a restaurant where we could have lunch since they were all full. What predominated in the gastronomic offer was the traditional roast, chorizos, but also schnitzel, fries with the inevitable fried egg on top...

At 2:00 p.m. the procession began punctually, some people walked barefoot carrying the sculpture of the saint on their shoulders through the streets of the city and accompanied by thousands of faithful despite the threatening rain that day. Prayers and thanks to San Cono were constantly passed through the loudspeakers distributed along the route.

We walked with the pilgrims, I was able to do some "close-ups", and then we walked around and photographed places in the environment, as well as interesting characters that we met along the way, most of whom were completely oblivious to the celebration, and many others who also offered something at the door of their modest houses on the outskirts, which allowed us to complete the stories that occur during the festivity and that I want to share with you.

Eduardo Storch

The houses near the tracks By Miki Shauder

I agreed to publish this photo shoot in its entirety, with so many images because I think Miki wanted to show a reality, so difficult for many of us to understand, used to comfort and so many useless luxuries. On the one hand his reportage shows us images of absolute poverty and on the other it offers us such joyful expressions.

This is the true spirit of a street photographer, who doesn't look for images for the sake of the image, but wants to show us reality and make us think, both about good things and bad things. Thinking is what we should all be doing when we look at an image, rather than have the photo safari spirit. As one of our photographers says, in some countries it is easy to find images ... this time without any filter.

peace and love

In Calcutta, I searched the neighbourhood where people live on the railroad. This is one of the poorest and most overpopulated neighbourhoods of this city, where many hundred thousand of homeless people live on the streets. Getting to know this neighbourhood which is called Anand Nagar, the City of Joy, got me thinking. I come from a different culture but I could clearly see the happiness in the eyes of the railway people in spite of their poverty. It would be nice to see this joy in the eyes of all humans. I believe that a street photographer must face these realities with a different eye, and ask himself many questions. I've tried.

There is a very famous book that talks about the city of joy, it's a novel, but it tells of true stories.

City of Joy by Dominique Lapierre

The train passes every few minutes in the morning, during which the railroad people lead their lives, brush their teeth, wash their faces, prepare breakfast and wash the dishes.

The houses are a bedroom only, a bamboo ladder and ropes used to climb to the second floor where the small children usually sleep. And inside the small shrines, there is a small temple for prayer.

The trains pass a tiny touching distance from the house and the living area. In crowded areas, there is a small separation fence, and in other areas, the house is right on the tracks without any separation.

At the same time, on the train, people stand at the doors and in the aisles, whether on their way to school or work and look at their homes and the people on the track.

The bags are hung outside the train on the windows to save space.

In India the problem of violence against women on convoys had reached such dimensions that in 2009, in addition to the dedicated carriages already present by law for two years, the then-new minister Mamata Banerjee had set up the Ledies Special, trains entirely prohibited to the men, who connected the suburbs to the city centers of New Delhi, Calcutta, Mumbai and Chennai.

Miki Schauder

Fascinating days in Kolkata by Patricia Kerkhofs

When diversity meets in harmony, we experience the blessings of civilisations instead of their clash.

My photography intends to show these moments of harmony while being briefly part of a world outside my usual cultural environment.

The look and the attitude of a child reflect perfectly the unbiased curiosity for the things to come, for a step outside their comfort zone.

I approached them sensitively and thoughtfully. I was instinctively verifying if they really wanted to be photographed or not.

A child lives the moment without prejudice but with the necessary level of precaution for the evil traps of an urban jungle. Although they are fragile little human beings, I am fascinated by the light in their eyes, the light of joy and hope. Irrespective of the chaos surrounding them, the noise and the erratic behaviour of the world of adults, I cherish this moment, this fascinating cocoon of honesty.

I have tried to capture a little moment of friendship, of inquisitive looks, of sympathy between two human beings of different age and of very different backgrounds.

However, my intention is not to ignore the challenging daily circumstances these children are facing, certainly those belonging to inferior caste such as the dalits. They carry serious responsibilities within their families and share in the heavy duties and sufferings of every days live.

Consequently some photographs will expose less gloomy faces but mature expressions of worries and sorrow. But my intention is still the same, capturing a moment with deepest respect for the cultural particularity of the society these children are living in. My street photography during these few days was one of true love and admiration for the incredible and wonderful city of Kolkata and the children conveying hope for a better future.

It was a life changing and enriching experience that I shall never forget.

Kolkata, the city of joy, you will always be in my heart as well as the lovely children.

Instagram

Life in transit: airport photography by Ubo Pakes

Recently I have spent quite a lot of time at international airports due to the stopovers at long flights. These airports are like mini cosmoses where people from literally all over the earth gather, stay for a while, and move on again. These mini cosmoses appear to have two main goals. The first is of course the obvious goal of traveling and catching connecting flights. But these airports also seem to be huge commercial hubs where no expenses are spared to entice people to spend money. There are all kinds of luxury goods on display and some shops have large LCD screens or other devices to advertise their products or projected lifestyle.

Many of the people however that temporary inhabit this cosmos appear to be very much busy with their own things. Looking for their next gate, keeping family and things together in the hustle bustle of the airport, looking for a place to rest or refresh or just communicate with the rest of the world with their gadget. There are people walking around everywhere. Even though the airport is for all these people a place in-between travel, everyone seems to be busy I was fascinated by how many people just pass by the shops and their screaming ads without paying attention.

These backgrounds however also presented themselves with other opportunities. These tend to change contents or show moves and animations. I started to work on a series of photos in which I let people walk in front of these screens as a silhouette, so that they are anonymous, a scene where the background is just as important as the person in front of it. An image then emerges of an anonymous completely artificial world that the airports have become. An image that is as fleeting as the time people spend in this place. A place where persons and environment are connected, but also appear to be oblivious of each other.

The Patron Saint of Impossible Causes by Federico Borobio

**The Patron Saint of Impossible Causes**

**Federico Borobio**

I had been in Mexico City for a week, and it was time to get out of my colorful and friendly neighborhood of Coyoacán to seek out the intensity of the Centro Histórico and its surroundings. As almost always, I made the trip to my destination without any particular expectations. Letting things unfold, with my antennae open but relaxed. On the spur of the moment, riding the subway again felt exciting. I had last done so before the pandemic.

I got off at Hidalgo station, and as I climbed the stairs I came upon a series of stalls of religious items spread out on a wide plaza. It was a good surprise. Promising. These kinds of expressions always catch my attention, and I began to walk through them taking my time, not rushing, letting whatever was going to happen, or not, happen. A few minutes later, with my peripheral vision I perceived that from my right an important movement of people was approaching. They began to approach and pass by me. More and more, until I was surrounded, since I was in the middle of the way of that large group carrying statues of a saint, flowers, posters. On the spot I started to shoot my camera. Some watched me with curiosity, others stopped to pose, most of them continued on their own and moved forward. At a certain moment, I noticed a small commotion: a woman was handing out bottles of water (the sun was already beating down hard at that time of the day).

After the first moment of bewilderment (I had just come out of the subway in an empty square!), I began to accompany the group, who in their advance crossed the square and continued until they turned the corner, where they were lost from sight. I followed them, of course, and finally the mystery was revealed: indeed, I was in front of some kind of procession, as meters ahead I could see a grand church. I would later learn that it was the church of Saint Hippolytus and Cassian, built in 1521 and known as the Church of Saint Jude Thaddeus. The interior was packed. On the street, a crowd lined up to enter. People kept arriving from all corners. Between photos, I was devouring everything with my eyes and chatting with the attendees to understand a little better what was happening there: I knew then that they were celebrating St. Jude Thaddeus, patron saint of the impossible, lost causes, those super difficult ones. I felt it completely appropriate to my idealistic personality, always ready to challenge that kind of epics of dubious outcome. I had never heard it mentioned, and although I am not religious, a believer or whatever you call it, I immediately thought "this is the saint for me." The "official" day of St. Jude Thaddeus, I later learned, is October 28. On that day the place explodes with people. But in Mexico, and in many other places on the continent, he is also celebrated on the 28th of each month. Of course, it was February 28, and I got off at Hidalgo station. A date with destiny, at least photographically speaking.

The parade of devotees continued all day long. To thank, to give, to ask, to nourish their hope. Very humble people in their great majority, carrying images, portraits, t-shirts, caps of the saint, flowers. Children in costumes, with the color green (hope) of the saint always present. Many gave away holy cards, flowers, candies, coffee, food, or just water to endure the heat and the long lines.

I was especially entertained chatting with a young member of a group of volunteers dedicated to helping people with social problems, addictions, work, housing. Most of them come to the great Mexican capital looking for an opportunity that usually costs more than imagined. Impossible, lost, super difficult causes. Those where a ray of hope can make a difference. He told me his name was Marcos. That day he and his companions were collaborating in the organization of the human tide, giving directions, helping an elderly person with the stairs, bringing calm to a disturbed or exalted person, lending a hand in whatever was needed.

After chatting for quite a while with Marcos, if we can call a bombardment of questions from an inquisitive and somewhat out-of-place Argentine photographer a conversation, I received his kind gift of a St. Jude keychain, which would remain with me for the rest of the trip and which I keep to this day. I carried it on every outing of the Patitas Machucadas Tour, day after day and, I must say, I felt accompanied and protected by the little image.

I do documentary, social and street photography. I love walking the streets, observing and conversing with people, getting to know their lives, strengthening ties, and that all of this permeates my work. Some recognitions and exhibitions:

- Sony World Photography Awards 2023. Shortlisted photographer in the Latin America Professional Award.

- Mobile Photo Awards 2022. Honorable Mention.

- Pinélides Fusco Award for political photography. Second Prize and collective exhibition. Faculty of Arts UNLP. La Plata, Argentina, 2020.

- Collapse, from the euphoria of change to the Argentina of helplessness. Book and traveling group exhibition. Faculty of Philosophy and Letters and other spaces. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2019.

- Workers Workers. Group exhibition organized by Mónica Hasenberg. Buenos Aires, Argentina, 2019.

- Group exhibition of the Jalón Ángel International Photography Award. Museum of Zaragoza. Spain, 2019.

- Mobile Photo Awards 2018. Honorable Mention.

recursosculturales

Federico Borobio

Bygone Era by Steve Scott

This splendid locomotive stopped at my local station in Athenry Co. Galway for everyone to see, and appreciate.

No 131 was built in Glasgow in February 1901 for the Great Northern Railway (Ireland) and ran between Dublin and Belfast.

I enjoy photographing steam trains for their timeless beauty and captivating nostalgia. The sight of billowing steam, elegant locomotives, and vintage carriages evokes a sense of wonder and transports me to a bygone era. Each photograph I capture tells a story, capturing the power and grace of these magnificent machines, the details along with the people that work on these locomotives, from the gleaming brass fittings to the rhythmic chugging sound, create a sensory experience that I find both thrilling and soothing. Preserving these moments through photography allows me to share the awe-inspiring the allure of steam trains with others and immortalize a piece of history that continues to mesmerize and inspire.

Steve Scott

no. 131

Kathmandu in the seventies by Alain van Hille

There was a time when Nepal was happy and pollution hadn't started to darken the Kathmandu valley.
Rivers were full of water, There was still a King and no Maoïsts, and bicycles were plentiful and more numerous than cars. Every evening one could dream of looking at the sunset on the Himalayan peaks.
Those times are long gone, but the images are still there to remind us it was not an illusion. Kathmandu was a Shangri-La.

Early in the morning when the lights of dawn break through the mist that soften the valley, I took my bicycle and waited for life and colours to appear as I travelled through the labyrinth of streets, paths and courtyards of the city.
It is a labyrinth of moving images and lives that randomly trace paths of destiny waiting to be deciphered, caressed by the eye. It is enough to wait when moving, to be the nomadic spectator in the heart of the rhythmic beats of the city. Contemplation is action. Above all, don't provoke things, life in Kathmandu is rich enough to do just that, wait! Wait and let the senses be intoxicated with the images that present themselves.

Kodachrome

Alain van Hille

flickr

The laundromat by Tali Nevo

Mumbai’s Laundromat employs roughly 7,000 workers and is called “Mahalaxmi Dhobi Ghat” which means the place where men wash and dry clothing. It has been operating for over 140 years and not much has changed since its very founding.

Mumbai’s Laundromat serves the mass public who cannot afford to purchase laundry machines or simply do not have the space at home to do laundry.

They also launder for hotels, restaurants, and hospitals – each industry according to its specific needs and standards. Each load is done separately, such as colours, jeans, whites, delicates, and so on.

Despite the vast quantity of laundry they receive and handle, they are highly careful and take full responsibility for damaged or lost goods.

The old steam irons they use are heavy and each weighs at least 5 kg, I tried to lift one myself and immediately put it back down since the weight was too much for me to hold in a single hand. I don’t understand how malnourished teenagers and even children are able to work with these from dawn until evening.

Entire families live within the laundry complex and there are in fact full communities that live there. They cook, shower, and even learn there. With my own eyes, I witnessed children playing in between the rows of hanging laundry. They were entertained and looked genuinely happy. One can hear the laughter echoing throughout the alleys.

Mothers with small children juggled washing laundry in large tubs while also watching their children at the same time.

I wandered in between giant outdoor sinks and the endless rows of hanging laundry on ropes.

I entered the expansive ironing room and visited one of their “apartments” which is a single room meant for an entire family. I realized that this is the best possible reality for them, they work hard and are genuinely proud of what they do.

For a moment, I sat on the side and thought to myself how simple life truly is.

Perhaps it is in fact us who have gotten accustomed to the endless rat race of life, complications, and stress.

.

The day that I decided that I was out of excuses was the day that I decided to realize an old dream of mine.

I would put aside all of the chores, which never end, and make time to study photography.

And so, after over two decades in various managerial positions in the hotel industry – including event management, marketing in large chains and hotel management – I decided to move forward with my favorite part of the hospitality industry: the people, encounters and trips, leaving behind the demanding managerial lifestyle.

I knew it was love as soon as I took up the camera. The ability to see everything from a different perspective of deep observation, quickly capturing a moment, a look, a movement. Wherever I look today, I see things differently, through the lens. I see the second for the right shot to introduce a slightly different viewpoint.

I am realizing my love for hospitality through my business – Bayit BaTeva in the Upper Galilee where I live and my love for people, encounters and trips, through my lens.

Since then, my passion has been to perpetuate the people, encounters, places and special moments, the diverse landscapes and fine details.

Today I am fully captivated by photography, seeking to convey my point of view.

You are welcome to visit…

Tali Nevo

Broken Dreams Beneath the Ashes by Anwar Ehtesham

Once again, the city of Dhaka, Bangladesh's capital, was struck by a devastating fire. This time, the blaze engulfed Bongo Bazar, the largest retail and wholesale ready-made garments market in the city, comprising approximately 5,000 outlets. The fire broke out on April 4, 2023, quickly spreading and leaving the city's oldest neighbourhoods covered in thick black smoke.

The recent fire, while not resulting in any loss of life, has had a profound effect on those affected. Bongo Bazar and four neighbouring clothing markets were ravaged by the blaze, leaving approximately 400,000 business owners without a means of livelihood and around 1 million workers without jobs just before the country's largest religious celebration, Eid-ul Fitr, which marks the end of Ramadan.

The bustling Bongo Bazar was a haven for small business owners and aspiring entrepreneurs who invested their time, energy, and resources to create better lives for themselves and their families. However, the fire destroyed their dreams, leaving them with the daunting task of starting over from scratch.

The victims, many of whom were sole breadwinners for their families, now face financial turmoil, struggling to make ends meet. The loss has put their aspirations of providing for their families, sending their children to school, and building a stable future on hold.

As the community copes with the aftermath, it's essential to prioritize safety measures and take the necessary steps to prevent future incidents.

Camera: Ricoh GR 3

Anwar Ehtesham