My Best Shots

Swiss photographer Rene Burri once said that his best shots only exist in his head. The same goes for me. Let me give you two. With the help of my words your mind will probably conjure up somewhat similar scenes.

The first one I did not take (for I had no camera at hand) was on a dirt road up in the mountains surrounding the Braziliean town of Santa Cruz do Sul. Ricardo, the owner of the school where I then taught, was slowly manoeuvring the van down a steep gravel road when all of a sudden an old woman carrying wooden branches on her hunched back appeared in the middle of the road. Without any haste she veered to the side, she didn't look up but concentrated on her path. To me, this was a scene from another century. How could she live up there? I wondered. Yet what stayed with me most was that she payed no attention to us, she was simply doing what she was doing and that was it.

The second shot I did not take was in Lat Krabang, near Bangkok, Thailand. Through the window of my hotel room a highway could be seen. Underneath the highway was a river. Every time I left the hotel, a group of ducks in a well-formed row crossed the street in order to drink some water. Afterwards they returned in the same formation. It was a remarkably organised procession that not only fascinated me but also a police officer on a motor bike who stopped, took out his handy and made the picture that I had wanted to make. Had I had the necessary mental presence, I would surely have photographed the photographing police officer on his bike.