Binita, Radhika and Deependra in front of a stack of dried rice stalks
Binita, Radhika and Deependra in front of a stack of dried rice stalks
Tupche, late 2002
Binita, Radhika and Deependra in front of a stack of dried rice stalks
Tupche, late 2002
Samjhana walking down the road on a hot afternoon
Betrawati, November 2004
Mother and child
Manamaiju, Kathmandu 2003
I had taken many photos in the area so when I walked past her house this woman recognized me. She motioned me over excitedly and, as I navigated the thin squiggly trail to her house, she brought her baby out from inside.
Her house is just out of frame on the left;
behind me there are terraced fields;
before me, there is the beautiful smile of a very proud mother.
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Srijana
Balaju Chowk, Kathmandu, December 14th, 2002
Srijana, 10, in front of her family’s restaurant.
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Bhai (younger brother)
Balaju, Kathmandu, 2002
Kiran and Jyoti’s uncle Arjun worked one floor down, in a small office that offered driving instruction. It was there that I’d sometimes drink tea with Arjun and his officemate—the tea was delivered by this young man.
The shop where he worked served three kinds of tea—milk tea, lemon, and black—all in small, piping hot glasses.
To allow him to carry multiple glasses, up and down stairs, or across a busy highway, he had a small circular carrier made from wire. He’d bring the tea and then return at a later time to pick up the empty glasses.
I would sometimes get lemon tea directly from his shop, so on this day I asked him if he’d like his photo taken. The tea shop where he works is unseen in the background—the man in the background who can be seen sitting is right in front of it.
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The three variants of tea served, all quite sweet.
Several blue Tata-brand trucks are parked in the background. Out of frame on the right is a small corner pharmacy, next to which is a large wall that is always covered by large wheat-pasted posters of the latest Bollywood and Kollywood movies that are playing in town.
Sogot on his grandfather’s lap
Betrawati, 2002
This porch, tucked under the eaves of the front of the house, is a great place to rest from the sun (or rain), and just watch life flow by.
Friends, neighbors, and relatives walk by on the wide dirt path out front.
In the mornings, sit here with a metal cup of buffalo-milk tea, blowing on it until it's cool enough to hazard a sip. Watch the children in their school uniforms, with their crisp white shirts and colorful ties, walking by from right to left, wool hats protecting them from the cool morning air. In the afternoon, see the same children come back the other way—now hatless in the afternoon's warmth—laughing and playing and chasing each other as they go.
On the far side of the path, eight steps made from large rocks lead down to a small path. You may hear the family's buffalo, or her newborn calf as you descend; reach out to give her a caring rub on her velvety forehead.
Forty meters on, beyond the rice field, feel the roar of the mighty Trishuli river as she crashes by. A deep, unending torrent of Himalayan snowmelt smashing and tripping and tumbling over boulders that survive only because they are larger than elephants.
Half a kilometer beyond, the brilliant green forested hills of Tupche rise up steeply. They become grey, then greyer still, then suddenly black as the sun drops behind them and the valley falls into night.
All of this is taken in by Sogot, as he sits here
on the lap of his loving grandfather.
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Busy mother with baby under her wing
Manamaiju, Kathmandu 2003
Walking home one afternoon, I ran across this woman taking in the family's laundry.
I love the cloth that holds the baby; it’s like she’s wrapped her son up in a piece of star-filled night.
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2011: With a freshly-printed copy of the original photo in hand,
I was able to find the mother and son again to take this photo eight years later.
Update: I recently ran across this photo that I took of them looking at the old photo.