Last night was brutual in terms of taking photos of both end-of-campaign rallies.  I had found out about the events at roughly noon yesterday while waiting to be transported to an English class in Lurin, Peru (which ended up being cancelled mid route).  There was literally no time available to place my name of the list of journalists and photographers, which ultimately left me fighting to take photos among the crowds. 

Keiko Fujimori of Fuerza 2011 held her rally in the Plaza Bolognesi of Downtown Lima at the end of Av. Colon., while Gana Peru's, Ollanta Humala returned to the "red plaza" (as it is referred to by many locals, due in part to the communist parties who have their offices located there) or Plaza Dos de Mayo, located roughly 1km from Keiko's event.   After spending an hour sardined into a small combi, I disembarked at Av. Venezuela, a few blocks from where I normally get off, thanks in part to the last minute route change.  At about 8:30pm I arrived at Plaza Bolognesi with my camera gear and my press pass hoping to squeeze in among the other photographers but was shot down when I ,at that moment, learned I was not on the list and therefore was denied entry along with many other journalists who found out the hard way. 



Keiko's rally was already underway and felt more like a concert than a rally thanks largely to the celebrity appearances of Eva Ayllon and Hermanos Yaipen.  Av. Colon was packed with supporters and curious pedestrians as the rest of the plazas five streets were closed off.  It was at this point that I was cracking my skull open to try and find a solution to my dilemma (having special press priviledges and access has spoiled me), when I received a phone call from Zdenka informing me that Humala was already giving his speech in Dos de Mayo.  Not wanting to waste anymore time, especially since Keiko hadn't shown yet, I began to hoof it over to the other plaza via the disable strech of Av. Alfonso Ugarte which connects the two plazas.  It was a dark walk over to Dos de Mayo, one which I was partially not looking forward to, given it's reputation as a high crime and theft spot (imagine it at night!) and I was not liking the prospect of having my camera stolen.  The feeling of uncertainty was intensified as I saw a couple leaving the Plaza, where a young man was doing his best to console his crying female companion who hystarically clutched her right hand while staring horrified at her bare ringer finger.  It's the kind of scene that can kill any or all remain confidence in a particularly risky situation.  After passing a temporarily erected metal gate I found myself in the lions den that was Plaza Dos de Mayo, a place that was swarming with throngs of people.  A sea of heads and flags was all I could make out from my initial location as I dove in among the crowd, following line of people who were pushing their way through the crowds.  I was at first hesitant to reveal my camera with no viable escape route but I managed to find a spot next to a few food carts where I was able to take a few shots quickly without drawing to much attention to myself.  I continued to burrow my way to Ollanta's stage but soon realized that it was going to be near impossible as it became increasingly difficult to progress through the crowds.  I made the most of it and took a few more photos (still not pleased with the overall situation), when Humala finished his speech, a bad time to be among the crowd.  Luckily I was able to menuever my way out before the congregation gained any real momentum.  Wanting a better vantage point I entered a nearby building and was granted access to the up floors, it was here that I was able to take photos of the plaza in it's entirety.  The crowd began to migrate down, what was once referred to as Av. Colmena, towards Av. Abancay on the other end of Downtown Lima (Cercado).  It was unbelievable to watch such a large amount of people advance in a singe direction, almost like watching cattle being herded.  Just as I was getting ready to leave one of the kind old ladies pointed out a car in the distance that was heading down the street in our direction.  As it got closer I was able to see the candidate Ollanta Humala standing on top of it as it slowly made its way through the people.  Quickly I switched lenses and was able to capture a few decent shots. 





Once Humala had left my sight I made my way out of the building and down the street following the same path of the crowd.  Police dressed in full riot gear lined the streets ready to handle the unexpected, in what would eventually turn out to be a fairly controlled rally.  A long walk later, and I finally found myself on the other side of Av. Colon and as I progressed the concentration of people continued to increase as elbow room went from scarce to nil.  Keiko had arrived minutes before and was well underway in her passionate and compelling (at least that's how she was trying to work the crowd) final sell.  Unlike Humala's presentation, Keiko had her stage full of well recognized public figures making a real spectacle of her show, as sports atheletes to ex-presidential candidates (PPK) made appearances.  The biggest difficulties of the night were met here as I made my way as close to the stage as possible, eventually stopping just short of the press box some 150 meters or so from Keiko.  Giving myself the all clear approval I pulled out my camera and began taking photos when I noticed a group of people forging a path through the spectators.  At first it was hardly a problem but minutes later Keiko ended her speech (with confetti and fireworks) and what started out as a non-threatening group of people trying to find a way out, soon converted into an ugly stampeed like display of young and elderly pushing  (practically fighting) to get the hell out of the plaza.  Instead of joining them I foolishly decided to wait and hold my position (against what was likely hundreds of desperate and impatient people), and as I waited I could feel the crowd gain strength as I found it harder and harder to stand.  At one point I almost lost my footing all together which could have been disasterous for me.  Not wanting to wait and see what could happen I saw an opening and fled the scene, eventually making my way back to Av. Arica and to my home.







Overall I am not thrilled with the photos I took last night but it was definitely interesting to be a part of a political rally of that size and scale.  Also I am grateful that I still have my camera. :) 

Since working at LivinginPeru.com I have done a lot of photography of special events and Lima's nightlife but last Sunday I got my first big break when I was sent to cover the presidential debate.  This was my first real assignment covering a news/political related event, and it was awesome!  The event was held at the well known Marriott hotel in Miraflores just in front of Larcomar and was scheduled to begin at 8:45pm.  Being new to such an event I arrived early in order to get a good spot among what I anticipated to be a heavily crowded press section.  When I reached the Marriott at 4pm the streets were barricaded in a two block radius of the hotel and the press section was already teeming with a good size group of veteran photographers and cameramen who had claimed their spot and set up their gear.  The press section was situated a about 25-50 meters from the hotels entrance with a blocks length of waist high metal fences and a stair step style stand for the press to position themselves for the candidates.  I was totally excited about being there but at the same time felt like such a rookie that I'm sure I must have let out the stench of one as the vets all seemed to have that same look on their faces which probably shared the mental thought of "great, who the hell is this fucking noob!"  To make matters even more embarrassing for myself I played the role of the guy who asks everyone 100 questions about photography and the biz, not that I really cared though since it was so interesting to hear how many of these guys got their careers started.



After waiting a few hours I met up with another co-worker and professional photographer from my job who after having just entered the hotel as part of (what I initially believed to be the more privileged journalists) a group of journalists who were going to cover the event from inside, had quickly turned around and left when she was informed of the reality of the controlled situation that had been arranged by the internal security.  Apparently all the press were crammed into a "special" room which had one lousy TV that would broadcast the event, while the photographers on the inside would be given the opportunity to take a five minute photo op of the candidates before the debate and nothing more.  It turned out that the best photo opportunities that night would be the ones taken outside.  One after another the candidates arrived in their security detail convoys and took turns posing briefly for the press before entering the hotel.  It all happened so quickly and I remember that when the walked towards the press section my body went into autopilot as I frantically took photos all while desperately trying to remain calm.  Though the area was fairly well lit, thanks in part to the camera crews of various TV channels who set up these huge spotlights which had what looked like big pieces of white paper taped to them in order the soften the light, I still had to use an ISO above 1600 for my f4-5.6, 55-200mm lenses.  The noise in my photos were fairly high but luckily I was able to tone it down later in Lightroom.


Once the candidates were inside Elie (the co-worker I mentioned earlier) and I went out and took photos of the supporters who had been corralled into their respective corners.  Just like any sporting event the supporters of each candidate were both watching the debate while cheering and jeering as loud as they could, a spectacle that was aided by the use of live bands, air horns (damn, were there a lot of air horns!), and music.  I rapped up the shooting at around 10:30pm, a little after the debate had ended, having spend six hours waiting and taking photos.  I was beat but it was an amazing experience, one I look forward to repeating in the future.


 

Here is a photo that was taken last night while I was shooting the Tricky (former member of the group Massive Attack) concert in the upscale Miraflores nightclub, Gotica (located in Larcomar).  The event lasted about an hour and a half but for me flew by in a matter of minutes.

I will post more photos of the event latter.

There were some things that I came to realize while shooting this event, one was that I realized just how difficult flash photography can be in a very poorly light and fast moving environment, another was the technical limitations of my camera in low light situations, and my overall surprisingly shocking low self-esteem while rubbing shoulders and competing for good shots with veteran professional photographers.  The culmination of these three things made last nights event a real nightmarish fiasco for this photographer.  More about this to come....

The blog Una Lima Que Se Fue is a vault full wonderful artifacts from Lima's past.  As the city of Lima continues to evolve the relics of a beautiful city slowly begin to erode from sight.  Thankfully this website is doing what few others have attempted and that is archiving the cities history and past, through the many aging photographs and documents. 

Today I found a photo that really caught my eye and just had to share it with you.  I'm not quite sure who the hooded women behind the baby is but the title reads: "Another Wet Nurse".  I'm not entirely sure what a wet nurse is but she looks like some kind of nanny.  Look it up on Wikipedia if you really want to know.

Last Saturday I had agreed to help paint one of the bathrooms at Zdenka's parents home in Breña (a task which turned out to be more trivial than I had anticipated).  The day was perfect, the sun was out and the sky was clear as far as the eye could see.  I took a colectivo as I normally do however lately it has been fairly difficult to find many due in part to the increase in police activity (these are either official and therefore legal or they are the more common batida which is illegal since the police are only looking for an excuse to harass and extort citizens, tis the season!).

Arriving at Plaza Grau in downtown Lima I saw several guys performing some pretty amazing displays of acrobatics in front of stopped vehicles.  These were just a few of many street performers that take to the city streets in order to earn a living or often just some extra pocket change.  I asked them if they would mind me taking a few photos and they agreed, and as a sign of good faith I donated S/. 2.

Here is a photo that was taken last Sunday while Zdenka and I were having a late breakfast at some cafe in the famous Plaza San Martin, located in the heart of Downtown Lima (officially known as Cercado de Lima).

This plaza is frequented daily by many tourists who also visit the principal plaza known as the Plaza de Armas (officially named Plaza Mayor de Lima) where the presidential palace and the municipality building of Lima are located. This area is also popular to many residents of Lima who visit the plazas which are linked by a very old and well known street called Jiron de la Union. Jiron de la Union is a commercial street that spans several blocks and is closed off to vehicular traffic. Here people are free to roam as they peruse the many stores and restaurants.

Plaza San Martin has a short history in comparison to the rest of Lima, in that it was constructed in the early 1900's following the subsequent demolition of San Juan de Dios hospital as well as a railroad station. The plaza was inaugurated in July of 1921 in homage to the 100th anniversary of Peru's Independence. The statue in the center of the Plaza was the result of a competition where Spanish artist/sculptor Mariano Benlliure won with his masterpiece which depicted war hero Jose de San Martin during his travels through the Andes, hence the name of the plaza as Plaza San Martin.

The buildings that enclose the plaza were constructed in gradual order and all share the same Neocolonial design being what was at the time popular.

**Edit**  Here is an old photo of the Plaza San Martin

As I write this email I am still taken back by the powerful words in travel photographer David duChemin's recent post about the reality of human existence.  "Life is too short", the title of one of his latest posts on his popular photography blog sends a strong and awakening message of the uncertainty of life and man's fallacy to truly appreciate his short time on this planet.

We have all heard this kind of inspirational prose before and while it might seem redundant to highlight one of the most commonly known and feared truths, the message still seems to resonate within us as our minds urge our bodies to take action, to make something worthwhile happen.

I personally never seem to tire from reading and hearing this message as it serves as a reminder to take advantage of what has been given to me.  Below is but just a paragraph or two of duChemin's post but I highly recommend going to his site and reading the rest.

"I had breakfast with a close friend of mine yesterday and it’s that meeting that is making me write this, because I can’t keep it in this morning. His wife, one of my favourite people on the planet, is fighting for her life against inoperable brain cancer. She’s fighting, but she’s not well, and the doctors are talking in terms of quality of life, not healing, not remission. My heart is breaking for her. My heart is breaking for him. A young couple that, like all of us, thinks they have forever together, have all the time in the world to chase their dreams. But we don’t. None of us do. It’s an illusion.

Life is short. We seem to think that we’ll live forever. We spend time and money as though we’ll always be here. We buy shiny things as though they matter and are worth the debt and stress of attachment. We put off the so-called “trip of a lifetime” for another year, because we all assume we have another year. We don’t tell the ones we love how much we love them often enough because we assume there’s always tomorrow. And we fear. Oh, do we fear. We stick it out in miserable jobs and situations because we’re afraid of the risk of stepping out. We don’t reach high enough or far enough because we’re worried we’ll fail, forgetting – or never realizing – that it’s better to fail spectacularly while reaching for the stars than it is to succeed at something we never really wanted in the first place."

Here is a recent photo I took last week. This photo was taken at an urban chicken farm well within the brick and concrete confines of Lima's old city center. In the city it's not uncommon to find many people who raise livestock within their property and it's also not uncommon to hear a rooster's wake-up call at 4am along with honking horns.

The chicken plays an important role in the limeñans diet and is therefore a core ingredient in most dishes served in the restaurants and homes with seafood and fish competing alongside it.

These however are roosters in the photo and are raised for the traditional and controversial "cock fights", a sport (if you can call it that) that was brought by the Spanish during their conquest / colonialization of the Americas.