[Leica] Shooting Stories

[Charles <chaslor@mindspring.com>]

A week or so ago I related a Leica experience for the first time and Ted 
Grant was kind enough to welcome more. So here's another. Traditionaly, I 
just watch and lurk and absorb, the photographers way, but I feel 
compelled to relate an experience.

In Central America a few weeks ago, I was on a "self assignment". I 
decided on a small village in Guatemala to spend a few days. As a bit of 
background, I'm primarily an advertising photographer that was on an 
editorial assignment in Central America then spent a week doing personal 
work. The day I arrived in a certain village, I happened upon a bizarre 
funeral procession. Outragious religious outfits, wailing old women, 
chanting men, chickens scurrying out of the path, otherworldly. As I 
arrived, I noticed across the procession from me, arriving at the same 
time, a traveller. The first non hispanic in days. Around his neck was a 
black M6. Around mind was a chrome M6. We converged on the best vantage 
point and were quickly admonished for taking photographs. I then noticed 
another camera around his neck, a Leica SLR. A quick "how d'ya do" and we 
both set out to figure out how to get involved in this thing. He 
determined that the family had no objection but these "cerimonial 
leaders" did'nt approve. After following the procession into a very 
bizarre graveyard and finally figuring out that I was'nt going to get the 
shot, I headed back to the village. A little later I met up with the 
traveller and we struck up a conversation. It turns out he is a street 
photographer. Roams the Earth taking photos. We sat for a beer and 
exchanged lifes. He pulled from a little leather pouch about 20-30 small 
BW prints that he described as his "lifes work". Stunning photographs. 
From all over. Mostly Eastern Europe. He was from Greece. Obviously 
inspired by HCB, he captured the joy, the despair, the common, and the 
moment of life. He owns nothing except what he carrys. No home, 
apartment, spouse, no possesions to speak of (his Leicas are all he cares 
about). Says he keeps a few things with friends back home. A small bank 
account to keep him alive. Survives off photo grants and the sales of a 
few photographs. I on the other hand have a wife, a child, a house, a dog 
and cat, 2 cars, a studio, a business, and all the other baggage 
associated with life as I know it. It turns out we envy each other. Me, I 
envy his freedom, his experiences, his work, his ideals; but not his 
lonliness, his longing for stability, his isolation from society as we 
know it. He envied my stability, my business, my ability to transform a 
passion of photography into a sucessfull career, my domestic life; but 
not my baggage, being forced to shoot endless stupid things, the anchor I 
must carry. 

During the next three days we wandered the village taking photos and ran 
into each other frequently. Not a big place, 6 or so blocks each way off 
a central square. We drank together, swapped stories, exchanged ideas and 
ideals. We had much in common yet were so different. I am totally amazed 
by the fact that in this whole world, the two of us happened upon the 
same village at the same time for the same reason, to shoot. And the bond 
we experienced was felt in that first moment, we saw ourselves across 
that funeral procession, Leica in hand. It was the M6 we saw first. We 
knew in each other a purpose. During lunch one day, we exchanged cameras. 
Each of carried only a 35 on our M6, he a Summicron and I a Summilux. He 
felt that I did'nt need that extra stop and offered and even swap. HA! He 
changed me. I see differently becouse of his eyes. He (and many more like 
him) is down there somewhere. In a remote village of the Third World, 
making photos we all dream of making. Photos of life. 

I apologize if I ramble on and on but it seems as though this has 
relevance in our lifes.

Charles