A little family history on Christmas Eve Morning…
Posted by Accidental Tourist
I woke up this morning to find my mum cleaning out the bathroom.
She walks out with an old cologne in her hand.
"Your dad used to wear this when we were dating back in the 70's."
The Brut bottle has always been in the bathroom cabinet since I was a little girl. Dad never seems to use it. The sentimentalist in me thinks that he's keeping it as a memento of his wilder and younger days with my mum. Or simply because, he has moved on to something more modern like Calvin Klein's "Eternity". Mum said she never threw it out coz he used to use it all the time.
I took a whiff of 36 years old cologne ..woody, musky...ok that describes 90% of all men's cologne. It smelled sweet at the same time. Not as masculine as i thought it would be.
Here comes the history part. Mum said that it was THE Cologne back in the days 'coz Muhammed Ali, the boxer, endorsed it.
A quick google on Wiki showed that Elvis Presley used to wear it.
It's still being sold and in UK, they have a special Christmas set every year. It would be nice if I can get a set for my dad. If he starts wearing it again. I think my mum would like that.
Merry Christmas, everyone. 
A picture does not tell a thousand stories…
Posted by Accidental Tourist
I've been photographing in nursing homes this week. Today was the last day of the shoots and we were scheduled to shoot in a rehabilitation centre for elders. I like to call it Grans Day Care.
I was in a zone. I knew what the client needed and was ready to go in, channel my inner auntie-ness and make the images that are required. They pointed out to me who are the people that I will be photographing. I did a mental count of what images that we had and what we needed. An old lady was sitting in a corner, doing the hand pulleys movement. I thought to myself that this picture will probably trump the one that I did a few days earlier. The background was cleaner and this old lady had a nice smile. She was hard of hearing so I could only point to my camera and signal that I was going to make some pictures of her. She smiled and nodded her head. After making my pictures, I excused myself to photograph the next patient.
After an hour of photographing a couple of patients, I sat down to talk to this lady who was recovering from a stroke. "Miss, you must take picture of the lady who has both her legs amputated. She's an inspiration to everyone in this centre." she said in mandarin. This amputee works harder at her exercises than anyone in the centre. I asked her to point out to me who she was. It was the first lady that I had photographed at the Hand Pulley Station.
Convinced that my first picture did not do her justice, I waited for her to walk at the standing bar. She had prosthetic legs fitted. Second time round, she held her head high when I took her picture walking down the bars. She knew that I had found out that she was an amputee. No words were needed. I gave her a thumbs up sign.
It didn't hit me until this evening while driving home alone, how little my picture tells of her. Yes, it shows a proud woman who has survived a double amputation. Nothing in my picture betrays the fact that this woman had tried to kill herself when they had to ampute her legs. Neither does it show her struggle or her journey on how she became who she is now. No, it doesn't tell a story. It's 1/60 of a sec of moment that I met her. Suddenly, it hits me how superficial a photograph can be.
Walk in the park
Posted by Accidental Tourist
It was an after dinner walk. The plan was to make some pics in the park. Pretty landscape pics for the Mid Autumn's Festival. Then i chanced upon this man sleeping on the bench. Squint your eyes a little to see him. The lights in the background are glaring. He became part of the landscape. I can't help but notice the irony of the scene infront of me. There's this nice condo in the background but a man is sleeping in the public park. It wasn't my plan to romanticize this image with the twinkling lights. I had a fixed lens on and really did not want to go up to him just to take his picture. The guy is sleeping for christ's sake! Not every homeless man is a documentary project.
But it did get me thinking. For the past year or so, I've felt that people are de-sensitized towards documentary work. I've seen people going to exhibitions and turning their nose at documentary projects. Another pic of a starving kid in a diaster area? So what? The general consensus i get is the photographer went there and he/she "documented". Anybody can do that, right?
Perhaps it's really the influx of digital photography. We see more pics now than ever. You can shoot and put it on the web in a matter of minutes. You can download iphone apps to view photo essays. RSS feeds, facebook, websites/blogs, twitter etc. Photo competitions seem to be happening everyday.
Let's not forget that it takes effort to research and commitment to work on a documentary project. It's time spent trying to pursue a cause or a mission. Time that could have been spent with family instead of the company of strangers whose stories that you want to tell the world because you believe in it. Believe it or not, but we have to pick our moments too. If your subject is crying, the right thing to do is to comfort them, not stick your camera in his/her face. Human being before photographer. At least that's what I believe in. How do we compose the picture to tell the story best? For the hardcore ones, they want to change the world through their pictures. Eradicate poverty/women trafficking/child abuse/pollution/changing landscapes, etc etc....You might think it's naive but at least, someone believes in it to keep trying.
Perhaps Susan Sontag puts it best -
"..., objective image yielded to the fact that photographs are evidence not only of what's there but of what an individual sees, not just a record but an evaluation of the world."
If clothes make the person…..
Posted by Accidental Tourist
...then I must look like a Hobo when I'm shooting.
Last year, while shooting in Indonesia, I had to go to my client's office which was located in Bank Indonesia. Bank Indonesia is the regulating body for all the banks in Indonesia. It was 6.30am in the morning and I had to run in to sign a document before heading out to the villages to shoot.
A photographer's outfit is carefully thought through for the sake of functionality. Since I was going to be out in the rural areas, I had the good sense to wear :
1) Three quarter pants so that my bottom of my pants won't get dirty on the dusty roads. Laundry is a bitch when you're on the move that you can't get it dry in time.
2) Trekking shoes - Brown so that if it gets dirty, you can't tell.
3) Dri-fit top - I sweat like a pig. Not kidding.
But Client forgot to tell me that there's a STRICT dress code at Bank Indonesia, even at 6.30am in the morning. Office Wear only. I got stopped by the security, of course. The security called my client's office and thankfully, the person that I was meeting managed to convince the security that I was not a Hobo and will just be in and out of the office. Nobody will see me in my rags.
I understand the security guards' position. Bank Indonesia is an important organization in Indonesia. It has a certain image to upkeep as the top financial institution in the country.
But it got me thinking too. I was told that most of the Micro-financing institutions cater to the clients for the exact same reason. They can't afford to dress well to walk into a big commercial bank. Most of them wear flip flops in their villages and sometimes, that pair of flip flops is all they have. I know it's hard to imagine but for the brief moment , when the security guard turned me away despite my pleas that I was legit and asked to verify my claim by calling my client, I wondered how the villagers feel when they step into a swanky bank.
In the outskirts of Jakarta, the women in a village meet at a Grameen Meeting.
Micro-financing in Indonesia is a big business. However. due to the sheer size of Indonesia's population of more than 235 million and the huge number of more than 40 million Micro and Small Enterprises (MSEs), the lack of access to capital and financial services remains a major constraint for many Indonesian households and enterprises. It's also hard to define MF in just one word in Indonesia. Different MF systems are designed to catered for the the different needs of the Indonesians in different areas of the country.
On the other hand, I was also stuck by the stories of the women who were working in Micro-Financing. There's always a sense of community and social responsibility that puts me to shame. They have a saying in Indonesia that money kept in a mother's sarong is more secure than a dad. A mother will spend it on the family whereas the father will spend it on himself. Ok , I know it's stereotyping but I can't help but think about all the men that I've seen hanging out at the Warongs (Street Food stalls) in the middle of the day.
Anyway, I decided to name my photo essay the title "Of Sarongs and Tempeh". I've struggled with the edit of this series of pictures for a very long time. A part of me really wanted to focus on the women that are involved in Micro-Financing but at the same time, I think Micro-Financing is not just about the women. It's really a means of making a living when you have nothing to your name.
Note: For the long winded version, please go to http://cameraobscura.busdraghi.net/2010/deanna-ng/ . :)
If time stands still….
Posted by Accidental Tourist
I got woken up by a phone call at 7.30am this morning. I couldn't make out what the lady was saying. When she started crying, I realised that it was Aishah and she was trying to tell me that "Grandma" has passed away. In my morning stupor, I told her to take care of herself and I'm sorry about Grandma's passing
I laid in bed trying to process what just happened. Mdm Mariam has passed away. I just visited her a couple of weeks ago. Strangely, i flipped through my mental album of her. There were very rare occasions when she looked happy. You can't blame her. She was in pain and hanging in there for her family. There was always a sense of woefulness surrounding her. She was a strong-willed arab. Walked out of a bad marriage. Raised her daughter single handed after her second husband died in a war. I didn't think she will be one to shy away from a fight either. I liked her feisty spirit. I was amused when she told me that she used to be in a secret society. She did what she did to survive.
The day passed but I felt like I was trapped in a different time zone. Going through motion. Dealing with death still doesn't come easy for me. It hits you like a curve ball when you lest expects it. I know she's in a better place and that's all that matters.
Dear Me…
Posted by Accidental Tourist
Dear Me,
Before the vacation euphoria fades off, I just wanted to say that I'm glad that you had a good break. It's been a non stop year with the Life Before Death project, new clients and that first solo show you were so nervous about.
I'm glad that you took Mum along. Even though she's a polar bear who turns off the heat when it's 7 degrees outside, she's still one cool mum roughing it out with you backpacking in Japan. I'm not sure it makes up for all the time that you were away and not being there for her but it's a start.
Thank god that you didn't bring your DSLR or obsessed about the best angle for your picture or try to build your portfolio on this trip. Wasn't it nice to play tourist for a change? To sit and observe. To talk to the person right next to you.
So here's my proposition for the remaining of 2009. Read more or at least , try to finish up the books that are on the shelves. Listen to the music that you used to love. Watch a few more movies. Stop obsessing about photography. Get inspired somewhere else.
Love,
Me
Some things never change….
Posted by Accidental Tourist
10 years ago, clients would tell me to take only bluebird taxis when I'm in Jakarta. 10 years later, client still tells me to "walk pass all the other taxi drivers and look for the guy in a white shirt/blue vest and the logo that looks like a phoenix. "
The first visit to Jakarta was with Mum and brother. All i remembered of that trip was the river was polluted, squatters living their lives next to it and of course, my brother and I puking our guts out in the hotel room 'coz of food poisoning.
In my first job, ex company sent me to Jakarta during the riots (or rather, despite the riots) to do training session for clients. It was scary for the fresh graduate out of school traveling alone and looking at all the trucks with protesters driving by. It didn't help to find out there was a protest on the airport highway the night before but the protesters had dispersed due to rain.
Forward to present day, I'm still none the wiser . Walking out of the airport, i totally missed the guy in the white shirt and the blue vest. Yeah, i felt pretty stupid walking up and down looking for the "Bluebird". Jakarta doesn't seem to be what i remembered it to be. Building looks bigger and expensive. Malls are filled with the latest IT gadgets. Hey, the telcoms were having an Iphone event today and the best part is, you don't have to queue to get one. The shops are filled with factory outlets. How about a burberry polo tee for $20?
No shopping for me since it's only day 1. So i'm off looking for bluebird taxis while i'm in jakarta and pretending to look like i understand bahasa indonesian.
The tide will turn….
Posted by Accidental Tourist
....or so they say.
I've been feeling pretty lousy for the past 2 weeks. Mr Phua passed away 2 weeks ago. It was a shock to me 'coz i had just visited him a week before he passed. It's a constant reminder that life is unpredictable. He was a great man. Always thinking of others even though he was bed ridden and had great difficulties communicating.
Another hospice patient that I have been photographing went into a coma earlier this week. The family was planning to take him off life support as he has signed his AMD. I just got the SMS where the wake will be held. It was hard for me to say good bye to him on Monday. I knew that it was going to be the final goodbye. But it was harder to see how sad his wife was and for her to deal with the pain of facing his death. She herself said it, " I thought i was prepared for this moment but i'm not."
I'm sorry that I have to refer to him as "The Hospice Patient" but the family has requested to stay anonymous. It sounds really cold and distant. Hence, I would refer to him as "The Awesome Dude". I've grown to really like the families that i have spent time with. It saddens me when i hear of their passing. Even though I've known them for a short 6 - 8 months but the intensity of the time that I spent with them makes me feel like I've known them for a longer time. It doesn't help that life goes on as normal for me. Even though, friends have said that I need to emotionally detach myself, i think it's only human nature to feel sad.
It's probably not my place to say this but when things quiet down and I had time to think about it, I'm reminded that "The Awesome Dude" was a really really lucky man. His wife was one of the nicest ladies i have ever met. Ever so warm and kind. Once they found out that he suffered from a similar form of Motor Neutron disease that Mr Phua was suffering from, they treasured all their previous moments together with their children. The wife told me that they talk to each other every night until they fall asleep. Sorry that I'm sounding preachy but how many of us actually treasure the time that we have?
One of the things that Mrs Phua had taught me was to count my blessings. She was thankful that Mr Phua and her had 5 good years of retirement before he fell sick. If she can count her blessings and see the lighter side of things, who am i to complain about the little inconveniences in life?
When a tree falls in the woods….
Posted by Accidental Tourist
...if you don't hear it, has it fallen?
There’s always tomorrow….
Posted by Accidental Tourist
....so i thought...wanted to print a picture of Mr and Mrs Ng Wai Mun and frame it up for them but I just found out that Mr Ng passed away this evening...I got caught up in work....lame excuse, I know. 
This is Mrs Ng's favorite 'coz she said it reminds her of his smile.
RIP, Ah Pek.