Ilha de Moçambique - The People In The Street

It's quite a journey from London to Ilha de Mocambique. It takes almost 20 hours from check-in at Heathrow to arrival but after two flights, a long wait in Johannesburg and a couple of hours drive, a first look around makes it all worthwhile. Joined to the mainland by a new three kilometres long bridge, the island is a visual treat - full of colour, history, surprising architecture and friendly, welcoming people.

For almost four hundred years the town was the capital of Mozambique and the most important Indian Ocean port south of Mombasa. It boasts numerous mosques, three churches and even a Hindu temple (although there are no Hindus living here now).  There is also a huge 16th century fort which contains a small church, Capela da Nossa Senhora do Baluarte which dates from 1522 and is the oldest remaining European building in the Southern Hemisphere. These riches contributed to the island being declared Mozambique's first UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1991.

Most of the main sites are within ten minutes walk of each other but for me, as ever, it is the people and the narrow streets of the old city that I find most interesting. The island has two distinct parts, Stone Town in the northeast and Macuti Town in the southwest. Most of the landmarks are situated in Stone Town but both areas are rich in atmosphere and the chance to engage with local people.

I had read that it can be difficult to photograph people in Mozambique. Numerous internet articles talk about cultural and religious issues and the need to tread carefully. Others emphasise the likelihood of being asked for money in return for a picture.  However, I spent three days on the island and although there were some incidences of people requesting refreshco i.e. payment in return for a picture, it was generally for tiny amounts and not once did anyone refuse point blank to be photographed. This was in no small part due to my engaging a local guide to walk with me as I have about ten words of Portuguese and many older people do not speak English. I also found that those ten words were helpful in making a connection. Just being able to say good morning, thank you and please made a difference. I found most people I met to be friendly and even seemingly grumpy roadside vendors would give a big smile in response to an unexpected boa tarde.

Blue doors in Macuti town

More than 90% of the inhabitants of Ilha de Mozambique are Muslim. Many of the women wear the hijab or some other kind of head covering but this did not seem to impact on their attitude to photography. Walking through Macuti Town I came across two hijab wearing women and a small boy sitting outside their home. The scene was a riot of colour. The house had blue and white doors with bright yellow steps and exterior walls. One of the women wore an ochre hijab whilst the other wore a striking animal patterned headscarf and bright purple lipstick. I wished them bom dia and when they responded I lifted my camera to indicate that I would like to photogrpah them. They nodded agreement and after taking the group photo above, asked me to photograph them individually - something that was to occur several times during my stay here. Later that day when reviewing my day's work I noticed that I had also captured two children peeping at me through the doors. I was able to shoot several group scenes on the island, some of which are pictured below.

Family and friends, Macuti Town 

Sitting in the shade, Macuti Town

Everywhere I went in northern Mozambique I saw women wearing a white face mask called Mussiro. Originally a symbol of virginity, the mask would no longer be worn when a young woman married. Today it is used primarily as a cosmetic and has properties that prevent acne, provide protection from the sun and keep the skin smooth. It has even been worn by models at the Mozambique Fashion Week. Pipinia was chatting with a group of women when I noticed her. She was wearing Mussiro and very quickly agreed to be photographed. She had clearly done this before, humorously assuming a series of poses and expressions in the style of a modelling shoot. Still on the subject of modelling, a few minutes after leaving Pipinia I came across two young men sheltering from the hot sun in the doorway of a house. I liked their almost hipster style and they too would not be out of place in the fashion pages. 

Pipinia wearing Mussiro

Youth and style

Hey, I want to be in the picture too!

During the day the streets of Ilha de Mozambique were full of small children. Often they would call out hola, what is your name and where are you from. Sometimes they would also call out photo, photo and begin posing and making gestures that they can only have seen on cable TV. One group of small boys began calling to me as I walked along the main street. They were a jolly band with adult family nearby and so I began to photograph them. I soon noticed one boy from the adjoining house, leaning over the wall, desperate to be in the picture. At each click he leaned further across until he eventually solved the problem by climbing over the wall and joining the group. I only wish it was possible to encounter that level of enthusiasm everywhere in the world!

Silversmiths

Colours in Stone Town

There are a number of artists and traditional craftsmen working on the island. I visited a silversmith's workshop where I found a beautiful pair of earrings for my daughter. Three artisans were working there, in a simple blue painted room, their work displayed in a beautiful antique wood and glass cabinet. The simplicity of the scene and the beautiful blue backdrop were great examples of what makes this place such a visual delight.

A little later I met Hamis Hussein, a tailor. He works from his two room home where he both repairs clothing and takes orders for new garments. I asked him if this was a skill he had learned from his father. He said not and that his father had been a prominent official in the local administration during the Portuguese period. Hamis had learned tailoring at a practical school and established his own business. He is not sure of his age. He may be 72 but he has no documentation to confirm this. I was very taken by his calm attitude and kind face. I would like to be able to talk to him again some day. 

Hamis was not the only tailor I met on the island. When walking alone early one evening I noticed two men sitting in an alleyway at the side of a house. One sat by the door to the alley whilst the other worked at a sewing machine. The man by the door waved, smiled and called out hola as I passed by. Never one to miss the opportunity for a chat, however brief, I went back and learned that they were brothers and that both of them are tailors. Even in this alley, there was colour as one of them worked on a bright new garment.

Hamis Hussein, tailor

Brothers and tailors, Stone Town

Back on the mainland, there is a small but busy market at the entrance to the bridge. People come here to buy and sell fish, fruit, vegetables, electrical goods, second hand clothes, shoes and other items. It was a great place to photograph people, some of whom were very enthusiastic about having their picture taken. One elderly woman saw my camera and began shouting and gesticulating. At first I thought she might be objecting to my taking pictures. On the contrary, she was demanding that I photograph her saying take my picture, I am still beautiful. So I did. I took a couple of shots of her before moving in for a close-up portrait. I loved the result - a slight smile and her face half in shadow half in sunlight, every line telling a story.

Four friends

It was also here that I stumbled upon a group of three older men sitting on the steps of a shop, enjoying the afternoon sun. I secured their agreement for a picture and just as I was about to begin shooting, a fourth elderly man rushed forward to join them. They shuffled up a bit to let him in and then began a short conference with each other after which they asked me to take individual portraits of them as well as a group picture! I was very happy to oblige despite the fact that they would only be able to see their pictures on the camera screen. By this time a group of spectators had began to form which swelled to perhaps 20 or 25 people alternately laughing and cheering. A good natured crowd, they wanted to see the results too and I spent some time there holding the camera for them to see.

Later I noticed an elderly man laying back and supporting himself on his elbows. There was something very stylish about him with his colour matched trousers and hat, loose black overshirt and red slogan bearing tee. He asked me why I wanted to take his picture and expressed surprise when I said he looked interesting. His posture, outfit, yellow bag and contrasting yellow backdrop make this one of my favourite pictures from Mozambique. He seemed happy with the result and even waved at me as I passed by a little later on the back of a motorcycle!

Take my picture, I am still beautiful 

Man with style

Children of Lumbo

The motorcycle was my mode of transport for visiting Lumbo, a small town just a few kilometres away from the bridge but difficult to access by other means. It is a strange place. One side of the town has a lively market, a residential area and access to the sea enabling work in the fishing industry. The other side is a ghost town of homes and other buildings abandoned by the Portuguese during their mass exodus from Mozambique following independence in 1975. The town developed due to its being served by a branch of the national railway system that linked it to the much larger city of Nacala to the north. Trains no longer come here and the town feels cut off. The empty villas are beginning to collapse due to four decades of neglect and the effects of the climate. However, some of the larger, former administrative buildings are being used for educational purposes and the impressive Catholic Church is still in use.

Abandoned villa, Lumbo

Barber shop, Lumbo

Cine Teatro Nina, Stone Town

Former Chinese restaurant, Stone Town

Lumbo is not the only place in this area where there buildings have stood empty for years. Back on the island, the former Cine Teatro Nina closed a long time ago and although it seems to be structurally sound the effects of neglect are beginning to show. It stands beside a series of buildings constructed by the Portuguese including a former sports club and a Chinese restaurant. The interior of the restaurant is now exposed to the elements and the elegant tiles used to decorate the old counter can be seen from the street. With the exception of the cinema, this once impressive parade of buildings is likely to be lost forever if something isn't done soon. On the other hand, a number of buildings have been very well looked after and others are undergoing restoration. In Stone Town I made two great finds - a building with a beautiful wooden Art Deco influenced door and another with a stunning lobby complete with black and white tiled floor and original wooden bannister. These chance findings are the things that can make travel such an enriching experience.

I also had another chance encounter on Ilha de Mozambique. I wanted to see an exhibition of photographer Moira Forjaz's work at one of the island's galleries. Unfortunately when I got there the exhibition was closed. I stood looking through the windows when a small boy approached me and said there was another place to see the pictures. A little doubtful, I let him lead me to a house a couple of streets away where he knocked on the door and who should answer it but the photographer herself! She invited me in and I had a delightful half hour with her looking at photographs and hearing about her life. She was born in Zimbabwe but has lived in Mozambique since independence in 1974. An amazing woman, the book relating to her exhibition - pictures and stories of people on the island - will be available very soon. I have already placed an order.

Art Deco doors, Stone Town

Secret staircase

Retired fishermen, Stone Town

Fisherman in a red hat

I cannot finish without some reference to the fishing industry which remains important here. There is a small fish market adjacent to the beach and the catch can be seen being brought in all around the island. I photographed the little group of retired fishermen sitting in the street early one morning. The man in the red hat is also a fisherman. He was sitting on the beach with a group of his friends. I was struck by his style and poise.

I had just three nights on the island. Whilst it was enough time to see the sites and even to visit a couple of places on the mainland, it is the kind of place that draws you in and demands more time. I would have liked to meet more people, to hear more stories and find out more about the island's past. Maybe next year.

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I stayed in Villa Sands, a beautifully designed, extremely comfortable and centrally located hotel. My dietary requirements were very sensitively taken care off and the hotel also put me in touch with a superb local guide who helped me to capture the images used in this post.

The Lanes of Varanasi

Varanasi, also known as Benares sits on the banks of the River Ganges and is the holiest city in Hinduism and Jainism. It also played an important part in the development of Buddhism, the Buddha having given his first sermon at nearby Sarnath in 528 BCE. Archaeological evidence has been discovered dating back to 1800 BCE making Varanasi one of the longest continuously inhabited cities in the world.

The subject of many travel shows, it is known for its Hindu cremations on the ghats (steps) leading to the Ganges. It is a place of pilgrimage and a somewhere devout Hindus may go to die as played out in the recent film Salvation Hotel. But Varanasi is also a place full of life. Its narrow lanes and bustling bazaars are packed with shoppers, sellers, sadhus and pilgrims all competing for space with cows, goats and dogs. Above the lanes monkeys travel from roof to roof, sometimes descending to steal food from the market stalls. Travellers are often advised to "look up" so as not to miss delights above street level. The same is true here but it is also advisable to look down and step carefully due to the number of animals in the street.

During the few days I recently spent in the city most of the ghats were under water due to a particularly heavy monsoon. I spent most of my time doing what I enjoy most, wandering the streets, meeting people and attempting to capture the experience with my camera. I stayed in a hotel on the river side, stepping through the door straight into the lanes. Early morning is an interesting time to be out and an opportunity to see the city coming to life. At this time the lanes are full of pilgrims on their way to the Ganges for early morning pujas (prayer rituals), shop keepers opening up and small cafes preparing and selling breakfast to locals and visitors alike. Savouries, chai and other treats are on sale everywhere whilst fruit and vegetable vendors are already on the street, displaying their goods to passer-by. Turning a corner I noticed a woman crouched on the ground selling huge coconuts and a selection of green vegetables. She was accompanied by her son Jyoti, aged 8. I was struck by the contrast between her vibrant green sari and the terracotta coloured wall against which they had set up shop. But more touching was Jyoti's affectionate attitude to his mum as he placed a protective hand on her shoulder.

Although most of the ghats were flooded I was able to visit one that stands at a higher level. Groups of people and lone devotees were descending into the water whilst others sat on the steps, participating in prayers led by priests and sadhus. Others were purchasing ground haldi (turmeric) from women vendors which would then be used for ritual purposes and in some cases. Still others were being shaved by one of the many barbers who work on the ghats. The pilgrims included a group of men from south India. I observed one of them for some time. Of striking appearance, he alternated between prayers, making calls on his mobile and taking selfies. I couldn't resist taking his picture.

Varanasi receives visits from millions of pilgrims every year. There are hundreds of small hostels that specialise in receiving them, many of them charging very small amounts for a place to sleep and a little food each day. For the poorest of visitors a range of charitable organisations or private individuals provide simple free accommodation. Some of the pilgrims collect alms in the street either for distribution to charitable institutions or to sustain themselves whilst in the city and on the journey home. I came across a man sitting against a wall in a dark, covered alley leading to one of the ghats holding out a silver tin for passers-by to donate. The sunlight from the street pierced the darkness around him, lighting up the wall's crumbling yellow plaster and his brilliant ochre head covering.

Still in the lanes, I was approached by an elderly woman who invited me to take her picture. She explained that she was a pilgrim and that she was extremely happy to be in Varanasi. After standing for a photograph, she smiled and asked me for some money. I was happy to hand over a small amount of rupees and she was happy to receive them, checking that I was not angry with her before she moved on. I like her style. India is one of only two Hindu majority countries in the world, the other being Nepal. It is not surprising then that there are many Nepalese visitors in Varanasi, predominantly in groups and immediately identifiable by the small caps worn by most of the men.

Business of all kinds is conducted in Varanasi's narrow lanes. Spices, fruit, vegetables, religious items and clothing are available here as well as kitsch tourist souvenirs. Countless stalls offer chai (several cups of which I managed to consume each day) whilst others sell paan. Paan is a preparation that combines the betel leaf with the areca nut which is then chewed for its stimulant effects before being spat out or swallowed. When spat out it leaves deep red, stains wherever it lands. There are numerous variations of paan some of which add tobacco. Some vendors claim positive health effects for paan.  A character in Rohinto Mistry's novel Such A Long Journey sells paan that can address any or all of your problems. However the World Health organisation advises that consumption, with or without tobacco, increases the risk of oral cancer. Despite this its use is widespread in much of Asia and it is easy to purchase.

Varanasi is known for its many sadhus, Hindu men (and occasionally women) who live a life of asceticism having renounced worldly things. They are easily identified with their simple clothing which often includes saffron coloured robes and spiritual markings on their face and body. Committed to a life of spiritual discipline, meditation and self-denial some of them will give blessings and carry out rituals or other religious services for a fee. The sadhus pictured below were collecting alms and sitting on a platform on which various boarding houses were advertised. As if to demonstrate the visual delights of the city, they sat just a few steps away from a paan seller and a group of women enjoying a cooling yoghurt drink after a hard morning in the bazaar.

In Kolkata I made an early morning visit to an akhadi, a traditional exercise centre, to see kushti wrestlers practising their skills, lifting weights and performing gymnastics. It was a dark morning and the pictures I came away with were a little disappointing due to my poor low light photography skills. All was not lost as I had scheduled a similar visit in Varanasi. 

The Tulsi Akhada is located beside the Tulsi Ghat on the banks of the Ganges. I arrived at around 6.30 a.m. to find some of its members already exercising or preparing to take part in kushti. Over the course of an hour, perhaps 20 men of varying age arrived to make use of both traditional and modern strength building equipment and to participate in wrestling. There is evidence that these facilities are dying out as younger men in particular prefer to exercise in a modern gymnasium which is sad given their long tradition. These traditions include a strong spiritual dimension. The Tulsi Akhadi has a tiny Hanuman shrine and every morning a ritual is undertaken before the kushti begins. Wrestling is an important and popular sport in India and one in which the country has won several medals internationally. Many champions have been discovered through the akhadi system and its supporters hope that renewed interest in the sport will help ensure its preservation. 

Back on the lanes, the Trivedi brothers saw me before I saw them. They waved to me from the open window of their animal foodstuffs shop and invited me in to sit with them for a while. Their family has been running this business for three generations but has lived in the city for much longer. They were very proud to tell me that one of their brothers is a doctor and that another works in government. They also wanted to know about me and my life in London. When I rose to leave, a cow was standing at the door refusing to budge and making it impossible for me to exit. One of the brothers saved the day by climbing over it and enticing it away with a bowl of animal feed before joining the other brother at the window to wave goodbye. It is always nice when hosts don't want you to leave but this was something new for me.

There are delights and surprises hidden around every corner here. In close proximity to a shop-house with hand painted figures on the exterior, a goat passed nonchalantly underneath someone's washing line. And a few minutes further on I turned into a narrow alley where I came across a beautiful haveli. The external walls were decorated with paintings of dancers, aristocrats being carried by elephants, and other figures whilst a stunning arched entrance was surrounded with floral motifs. This building would not have looked out of place amongst the beautiful havelis of Churu, Rajasthan. 

Beautiful doorways are commonplace in Varanasi. Many of them have small representations of Ganesha, Hanuman and other Hindu deities above the entrance, protecting the home and those who live there. Others are decorated with hand painted designs indicating a recent wedding. One of my favourites has a brightly coloured sunburst motif, floral designs on the pillars flanking the doorway and striped vases on the lintels. Delightful.

During my recent visit to India I was fortunate to be able to meet many ordinary, working people and to hear a little about their lives. In Varanasi I met a 38 year-old weaver called Mohammed. It was well into the evening when I met him, still working at his loom where he had sat since early that morning. He looked younger than his stated age but was very thin and told me that it was difficult to manage with two children aged below three years to feed and clothe and eventually to send to school. He makes beautiful saris on a hand operated loom, hard physical work for which he receives just 200 rupees per day. The person who owns the business will employ many weavers. The saris are much prized and sell for 15,000 rupees or more. I met Mohammed on my final evening in Varanasi, a sober end to my time there.

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Moshe Gerstel and Haifa, City of the Future

During the 1930's Haifa was often referred to as the "city of the future". It underwent significant development in the inter-war years when the Hadar HaCarmel neighbourhood was established with Modernism as the dominant architectural style. Perhaps the most iconic of the new buildings was the market hall of Shuk HaTalpiyot on Sirkin Street.

The shuk was built in response to the events of the Arab revolt of 1937-39 which caused the Jewish residents of the mainly Arab lower city area to flee the area and Jews from across Haifa to no longer feel safe to visit the markets there. Consequently plans were made to build a major market in the centre of Jewish Hadar. The site selected was extremely challenging, located on a steep slope on rocky ground. Nonetheless a design competition was held and architect Moshe Gerstel, working with engineer C. Cohen submitted the winning entry. His design was judged unanimously to be the best as it addressed the difficult issues of the site and required only local materials. Construction commenced in 1939 and the building was inaugurated in April 1940 when the city's Mayor praised the architect who "with imagination and ingenious creativity gave this city of the future a structure in which she can take pride". 

Gerstel's design included a rectangular structure at the front of the  building and a circular market hall to the rear. The stalls were arranged over three floors underneath a glass roof that flooded the building with natural light. There were also to be stalls on the ground floor and in the basement. Horizontal ribbon windows covered the surface of both parts of the building, giving views over the city and the bay. The exterior is striking due to the bands dividing the levels and the decorative fins above the main entrance. The fins are separated by a glass ladder, allowing even more natural light to flow in. The shuk quickly became a focal point for Haifa's Jewish residents. Nissim Levi describes it as "...the biggest and fanciest shopping centre in the Middle East...The central structure was roofed with a brilliant glass ceiling and the sunlight that seeped inside glittered on the fresh fruits and vegetables and created a colourful celebration that the eye can never get enough of". He also recalled  the wide range of products available and the songs and slogans made up by the vendors to attract customers.

Sadly the building has been allowed to deteriorate terribly and when I last visited two years ago only the basement remained in use for the sale of produce. The ground floor had a few low quality stalls and the upper levels were sealed off. Many of the windows were broken and feral cats roamed about. Netting had been installed to prevent pigeons causing further damage but serious action is required if the building is to survive. 

Gerstel was an extremely interesting character. Born in Galicia, Poland in 1886 he studied in Lviv and Vienna, saw active military service in the First World War and then lived and worked in Bucharest from 1922 to 1935, where he designed many buildings. He made aliyah in 1935. Settling in Haifa, he established a life long friendship with Hajj Tahir Karaman, a successful Arab businessman and deputy mayor of the city. Although Karaman was an Arab nationalist he was not opposed to co-operating with Jews and recommended Gerstel to several other wealthy Arab families who commissioned him to design homes for them. Their friendship was so strong that when the Gerstel family were in financial difficulties, Karaman not only took them in but added four rooms to his own home for them. Gerstel designed a house for his friend in the same street as the Shuk and continued designing for the family even when they left Haifa after 1948.

Karaman's recommendations resulted in commissions for three adjacent residential properties on Tchernikovsky Street on Mount Carmel. These include the Agnes Khouri house at number 29, built in 1937 and which has a spectacular glazed curved corner. One of the three properties is now divided into two with a Jewish family living in one half and an Arab family in the other, perhaps continuing the architect's tradition of good inter-communal relations. Gerstel's star began to fade in the 1950's but he remained in Haifa until he died in 1961. Several of his buildings have survived until today.