A typical wedding day starts early, full of activity. Hopefully it involves a beautiful sunrise, a delightfully leisurely breakfast, and then a bustle of fun as guests arrive and the day continues. But not many wedding days start 9000 miles from home. Except this one. It was Christmas Eve back in the United States….
I sat on the motorbike, holding on for dear life; one hand gripped her jacket and the other clung to the metal grip behind me. Her driving was impeccable – no danger there – but we were surrounded by hundreds (thousands?) of very erratic drivers, all powering their motorbikes through the narrow streets, and…
She handed her ticket to the bored high schooler. He didn’t really want to be there. A fair’s a fair, said his eyes. And too many enthusiastic, sugar crazed individuals were making his life miserable. But at least it was a paycheck, even if it was tedious work. She ignored his rude cynicism and bounced…
I sat at the kitchen table, practically squatting on a four legged stool that was designed for a person much smaller than me. My fingers – although well practiced after two weeks in the country – still failed me now (as they occasionally did) and I dropped my chopstick full of bamboo back on…
Even though there’s not even a remote chance I’ll see snow this Christmas, while I’m in a tropical location shooting a wedding in a foreign language, I hope your Christmas is cold and snowy and full of family.
I wake to the village roosters echoing their morning cry up and down the street. They never stop crowing, really. Or if they do, its for only an hour at 2am. But the cock-a-doodle-doos are more prolific in the wee hours of the morning. At 5am the streets are already populated. A boat chugs…
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