Pakistan has a reputation in Canada as a place that is rough and dangerous - and in some areas I suppose it is. There are people here who genuinely wish others harm and who are willing to harm themselves in the process. Nevertheless, it is also a country filled with people who are just simply getting along like everyone else. Most are friendly and warm, and most will welcome you when you greet them. Like most people everywhere I go, they are interested in learning about foreigners and their countries, and they enjoy having contact with them.
I had intended for some time to take some pictures of the day labourers who wait for work on Street 16 near where we used to live in Islamabad, but I didn't get around to it before leaving Pakistan last January. Every day, throughout most of the year, you can see these men hunkered by the curb, often sheltering under trees from the sun or rain, their tools arranged in little pyramids before them - a sort of advertising: I can do whatever can be done with these implements. Hire me.
Thing is, I generally try not to take pictures of people without permission when traveling in the developing world - I find that it is somewhat objectifying to do so sometimes, and besides, some people just don't want to have their picture taken. Also, in Islam (at least as practiced in Pakistan), some people believe it is against God's law to allow themselves to be photographed. So it's really much more respectful to ask.
And anyway, this is a great way to meet people!
Despite what I just said, most Pakistanis seem to love photographs - when they are in them. Someone once told me, but I don't know if it's true, that it's considered lucky to have your picture taken with a foreigner, but that doesn't explain why people so often approach me when I have my camera in hand, and ask to have their picture taken. In the case of these day labourers, this is exactly what happened, so I didn't have to ask for permission - they called to me as I was coming up to them and practically started to pose on the spot! I was only too happy to oblige, of course, as that's why I was there. We chatted for a few minutes (as much as possible considering we had a language barrier), and a couple of them told me their names, but except for one who was named Ali I forget them. Perhaps they'll remember mine.
I had intended for some time to take some pictures of the day labourers who wait for work on Street 16 near where we used to live in Islamabad, but I didn't get around to it before leaving Pakistan last January. Every day, throughout most of the year, you can see these men hunkered by the curb, often sheltering under trees from the sun or rain, their tools arranged in little pyramids before them - a sort of advertising: I can do whatever can be done with these implements. Hire me.
Thing is, I generally try not to take pictures of people without permission when traveling in the developing world - I find that it is somewhat objectifying to do so sometimes, and besides, some people just don't want to have their picture taken. Also, in Islam (at least as practiced in Pakistan), some people believe it is against God's law to allow themselves to be photographed. So it's really much more respectful to ask.
And anyway, this is a great way to meet people!
Despite what I just said, most Pakistanis seem to love photographs - when they are in them. Someone once told me, but I don't know if it's true, that it's considered lucky to have your picture taken with a foreigner, but that doesn't explain why people so often approach me when I have my camera in hand, and ask to have their picture taken. In the case of these day labourers, this is exactly what happened, so I didn't have to ask for permission - they called to me as I was coming up to them and practically started to pose on the spot! I was only too happy to oblige, of course, as that's why I was there. We chatted for a few minutes (as much as possible considering we had a language barrier), and a couple of them told me their names, but except for one who was named Ali I forget them. Perhaps they'll remember mine.
