evi lemberger

on and about..

2012-02-12T00:47:00.000-08:00

petrol station, mirpur road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

cross road, nilkhet road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012


guy, dhaka university, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

i needed to go to the department for soil, water and enviroment. for an interview.

i met the guy, when i was searching for the place. dhaka university area is huge. they told me, asking for the place i should take a rickshaw. i refused. stupid, i thought, taking a rickshaw for a place which is so close by.

i met him, because he started to talk to me, on the road. it is easy for me to stand out. even my tanniest tan is not getting to a bangladeshi colour. and people in bangladesh are very interested in foreigner. so he asked me wher i wanna go. in english. so perfect and i asked him where the department was.

so he joined me, said he wants to help me. he knew the department and his library, he needed to go to, was close by. he was studying law. he likes it he said.

in some points he asked me:"do u like hitler"
i heard this question before. i also heard before that hitler is a great leader, a great person.

i did not know what to answer and then i started to talk. talk about how bad he was and what he did and why he is bad. he listened, quietly and suddenly i stopped, asked "what do u think about hitler"

"he is a great leader. he is strong. he did good things for the nation. he took care of the nation and did everything for him."

bangladesh, aparently as people tell me, have a problem with strong leaders. they do not have one. but they love their country, would defend it for everything. that's a stereotype, i know. but a lot say that.

also history is selective. how much and what you learn in school depends on the country and its history maker.

i talk to him, confront him with question if he knew what he did. and yes he knows. but he, hitler, did also god things.

i try to convince him. the only i actually decided to say my opinion, even so i knew it was predetermined by my past.

bookfair, nilkhet road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

bookshop, cross road, nilkhet road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

delivery rickshaw, mirpur road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

mirpur road, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

adnan and the mechanics...

2012-02-11T01:23:00.000-08:00

adnan loves his bike. it is his girlfriend. at least he said so. one time his old bike he just renewed by himself got suddenly stolen in front of his place. i don't know if he cried but i think his heart did.

now his new bike is ok. it just needs a few fixing, like the wheel, lights etc. nothing special. but it need so and he cannot do it. but the guys can do it, his mechanics.

anyway he loves to go to this place. loves the smell of oil, mixed with burned plastic. talking with the guys about his bike, other bikes. hanging around

the did not fix the bike when we came. they did not even start it before he came, even so said so. they wanted to wait for him. to fix it together.

sometimes, he says, he has to shout at the them. actually every time at the end of a 'repair session'. not because he is mad, just how it is.

adnan got it a few days later. still needed to get some things done.

on a weekend day

2012-02-11T01:20:00.001-08:00

friday is the only day i have off. my weekend. i am still for more than 4 weeks here. nothing. ridiculous. so spending weekends inside sucks. above all teh weather is perfect. not too hot, not too cold.

that's bangdaldesh till march, then apparently it will be hot, and wet.

usually i just walk. actually i always walk, cause otherwice you do not see, smell, feel. the aim today old dhaka. the oldest place in dhaka.

dhanmondi, dhaka, 10th feb 2011

6th road, dhanmondi, dhaka, 10th feb. 2012

shop with ricksha, dhanmondi, 10th feb. 2012

old dhaka is old, smelly, tiny streets, full of people, waste, ricksha, shops, more people, more food, and more smell.

oi love it, being in there you are soaked up , immidiatly, with all your senses. if not and you are somewhere else you are lost, or you dip your feed into the little canals full of pee. happens. so better get your mind frame sorted.

on our way we left sumon at his shooting place. it was a hostel for boys. just for boys, who are interested in art. in the front there houses is a volleyball court, and on it his things for the shoot. steps, covered with news paper, thats the idea: a guy walking over it.

sumon is helping his ex teamleader with a job. adnan and me coming along. just to drop him off.


motherlanguageday statue, azimpur road, dhaka, 10th feb. 2012

old dhaka, 11th feb. 2012

dhaka, 10th feb 2012

money, money, money

2012-02-11T01:08:00.000-08:00

office chair, drik, dhaka, 31st jan 2012

my lap top broke. just one day, on an evening , after cooking for my workmates and them leaving my place.

i cried one time, for two minutes, later, when they told me that my computer has the most unqiue problem this series of lap tops have. i got it and it cannot be replaced.

so after feeling self pitty and decision making, feeling guilty and waiting for two many days i got my lap top. a new mac. i am in heaven. i can watch movies again. and i can work. but i can watch movies before going to sleep.

in order to pay for the lap top i need cash. 1 euro is roughly 100 thaka. out of the cash machine i can get per day 35 000 thaka max. in 500 or 1000 notes. at least.

yan, my chinese friend, told me that she is always walking around with s many notes. because in china people don't trust the bank. so when she went to university form home she had to take all her money for the next 6 month in her wallet.

guess now i am more relaxed about all those notes, or at least i should be.

office chair, drik, dhaka, 31st jan 2012

in bazar

2012-02-10T23:06:00.000-08:00

in front of the dining room of the hotel, cox's basar, 3rd feb.2012

we are going on a trip. with we, i mean drik, or some people from drik. and there families. that's exciting. seeing moni with his wife, seeing habibay's kids again. his wife. and all the others. quite a lot of names, and cannot even memories all of the people's names i am working with.

we arrived in morning. around 11 am. it was hot, but ok. quick breakfast and then off to the beach. we will play football. or better say, adnan, habibay, his two kids and some other guys ( i am so sorry, i have a terrible name memory, sometimes i even forget the names of my siblings). anyway essentially guys and me.

we are in cox's bazar. one or not the place in bangladesh tourist go to. millions of people come there every year and with 120 miles it has the longest beach in the world.

table football table, cafe, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

dogs, cafe, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

the cafe is pritty cool. we discover it n the second day. it had table football, barbeque, nice seats, life music, etc. quite unusual.

we wanted to go there in the evening, but the other were not interested. i thought they would understand, table football. how cool is that. but they did not. so we ended up on the market looking at scarves and sunglasses.

i don't know still now if they know what table football is and how it looks like. i did not ask. dare to ask.

ricksha, cox's bazar, 3rd feb. 2012

cox's bazar is designed for tourist. it has a lot of small shops. hotels are popping up in every little corner, they even imported electronic little cars from japan, whoare so quiet that it is almost irritating seeing them suddenly appearing next to you.

and they have rikshaw drivers, of course. and even so the distant between the hotel and the market is about 10 minuets quick walk, we take the rickshaw. they know there business.


teaplace, beach, cox's bazar, 3rd feb 2012

being a big strong guy store, beach, cox's bazar, 3rd feb 2012

the beach is full of people. of course. people from cox's bazar and people who came to cox's bazar already a few years ago, say it is really full. i, experienced italian mass tourist traveller, says it is empty.

they have little shops, one business models around.

most seen: tea or cha place, cococunat wagons
kidss' seller: softdrinks, jewellery, sweets, songs
adults' seller: chai in big thermo bottles, bananas

umbrellas and seats with people, beach, cox's bazar, 4th feb. 2012

the people in cox's bazar swim in clothes. that's in a msulimic country. you do not show your body. that's fine. and i am kind of prepared.

one thing i did not consider. texture and color of clothes and attachment to body shape. going into the water is fun, running around with wet clothes sometimes as well, sometimes not at all.

guy, beach, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

me: stop sorry can i take a picture of you
him: yes ok why?
me: because you look different
him: ah ok fine
me: why do you look different?
him: because i am living with my parents in australia. i was just born here and come back for a visit
me:do you like it here
him: its ok
him: finished
me: yes
him: ok bye
me: bye

people from bangaldesh love to be photographed. better say, if you do not take an image of them they are annoyed. really annoyed.

guy, beach, cox's bazar, 3rd feb 2012

he is the guy with the flyers. first when he gave it too me i wanted to refuse it. initial reaction based on upbringing and living in europe with more flyers than people in a country.

luckily he was persistent. and his dogs.

his dogs licked my legs. i like dogs but i like to watch them from a distant. i do not know them, they do not know me. also i do not lick there legs.

i get annoyed, but than he says that they were his dogs. so i am embarrassed. dog lovers don't understand people who do not like dogs. thats the same with mums and non mums.

anyway i started to talk with him, looked at the flyer closer and realized that this was an amazing material, ecological recycled brown paper. awesome. and even so the combination of life music with barbeque seemed quite tacky for me for get tourist and guest into your place standing on the cox's bazar beach that was quite cool.

he works at this place. i could come there tomorrow and yes he knos the surf club.

jafar alem, beach, cox's bazar, 4th feb. 2012

he is the surfer in bangaldesh. probably the only one. starting of 15 years ago by selling of an australian a surfboard for 2000 thaka, believing for ages to lie on the board would be the way to go, he became the most successfull surfer in bangladesh. and probably the only one.

i meet him, by incident, because of an german article about a bangladesh surfclub, about my curiousty and stubbornness to find it and adnan's old contact list.

he is nice, talks very quick. about his past, his present and above all his future. what he wants to do with surfing, why it is important, for him for the people, for cox's bazar.

he also says he is tired, he needs some help, for his surf club, for marketing, for training.

martin, beach, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

sometimes he gets foreigners to come to the beach to surf. this time it is a guy from denmark, italy and then two other guys.

martin is actually volunteering in the refugee camp close by. he just discovered the place and jafar.

martin loves surfing. the waves are not the biggest one but perfect to learn, and probably much highre later, during the year, when the monsoon and the cyclone starts.

martin loves the place. being here for 2 weeks he totally feels secure. people are nice, food is good and just feels so secure. i think i can live here for longer. he says.

jafar tries to established surfing. nobody knows surfing in bangladesh. till he came. now he wants to see more people doing what he is doing.

cityscape, cox's bazar, 3rd feb. 2012

detail, market, cox's bazar, 4th feb. 2012

the market reminds me on markets we used to have at home. little jewelly and nippes in between cheep clothes in between sweets and more clothes. at least how our used to be.

we do not have them anymore. we have amazon.

they have it and it is full of people wandering around, looking at the different stales and comparing same things in quality and prize (at least for me) at different places.

i am a bit bored, just a bit after seeing the 10th scarf shop. but the girls and guys love it. that's ok. i guess also a result from amazon: the inability to enjoy wandering around and loooking.

photostudio, market, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

dried fishes, market, cox's bazar, 4th feb 2012

net, fishing boat, cox's bazar, 5th feb 2012

they are stretching the net out. to make sure it is not detangled. this is what i think they are doing with it. but i did not talk with them.

stupid foreigness. hate it sometimes. above all in combination with having the huge camera and snapping helplessly smiling away. smiling is the best i can do.

it is sunday 6 am. the guys, fisherman, are getting ready for the water. and the fishes.

guys on car, between cox's bazar and dhaka, 5th feb 2012

girl looking outside the window, between cox's bazar and dhaka, 5th feb 2012

guy on the street, between cox's bazar and dhaka, 5th feb 2012

in the city

2012-02-10T21:28:00.000-08:00

parliament, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

i am on my way for an interview. i chose, of course, to walk, cause i walk, i have to legs. etc. i said this already. earlier times.

so way is dhanmondi to barc university. takes about 1, 5 hours, 5 km. that's ok.

guys reading paper, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

bangladesh has a ridiculous amount of newspapers. far too many, but obviously needed and bought.

and it is good, in a country which is claimed for its corruption within their media.

one time i asked a journalist: do u think the media are here corrupt?

journalist: no i don't think so. i never faced corruption.

a few weeks later 2 journalist, who are investigating criminal cases within their work got stabbed in their home. their child in the little room next by survived. gossip says it is because of money.

journalist, the same one: you know if you wanna earn good money and become rich you have to become a journalist

me: why?

journalist just smiles.

museum, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

roundabout, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

roofs, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

dhaka has slums. yes we know. bangladesh is one of the poorest country in the world. yes we know.

i was walking a long to my meeting. on the bridge, looking at the train tracks i can see them. living in between the tracks, next to them, having business there. chatting away, bidding for a good prize, cooking lunch, living.

there was a photographer. i think he worked for national geographic, i think. something important. i can remember the image, of a guy, with his family, in the middle of the train tracks, spendig time there. i think he did not have any legs. the image is in black and white, dramatic contrast. that is waht i can remember.

i take images, and while i take images i get annoyed. about me. about this photographer and about photography.

what i am doing is slum tourism. i am here because i saw images, because photography tells me too, and because i wanna proof myself.

anyway i do not proof myself by standing on top of the bridge looking down. first of all. then second. what do i have to prrof myself. that i am hard? a photographer who can deal with difficult subjects. who says that they are difficult? who says anyway what is difficult?

and why do i care?

in photography there is the fashion around certain subjects, scary, tragegy, lower class, poverty, so called unnormal life circumstances. and everything under the secure umbrella of support and help.

really? helping with a scary images of them, creatinga bubble of pittyness around them.

would i like to be pittied at?

one time i explained adnan. imagine somebody would coem to dhaka , lets say me. i am doing a story on you. see your clothes, your room, your life. it is different. i have more clothes, more rooms, a proper shower. then i write a story: 'the poor bangaldeshi photography' think would be good story. that's why i wrote it. you see it and then you think either i am poor i need more money, get unsatisfied with yourself and aspire more or you just get angree, in the best case, cause you never saw your self like that, loose your prite and honor.

traintracks with train, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

cityscape of traintracks, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

election paper, busstop, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

it is election time in dhaka. as far as i know 2 parties, against each other and there members. even so the goal, being in charge, is in my eyes not the most aspiring goal, for the it is. it must be.

cause according to a lot of people's knowledge around me they fight against each other. the main goal, the victory. i guess.

busstop, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

view from brac university, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

lake view, dhaka, 30th jan. 2012

behind of me is the brac university, one of the most important in dhaka. i was there, talking to
Ainun Nishat, specialist for climate issue questions.

and it was successfull, considering the fact that he talked and i listened and at the end was ot sure which informations i got and which i need. guess a terrible mistake as a journalist.

on the other sides are the slums. dhake belongs to the most crowdest cities in the world. at the moment official number say 13 million are living here, inofficial i don't wanna know. a lot. and 40 percent of dhaka population lives in the slums. on an area which is probably a 10th from whole dhaka. maybe less. i don't know. but very little.

guys painting on the wall advertisment, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

this is the way advertisment is done. an idea, a few words, some guys and paint. oh an a wall. seems a bit like streetart. can be. for them. i am wondering.

building work, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

these guys are crazy. high up, no security and just on bambussticks. god luck. and that's all for just getting some festival decoration ready. i am looking, taking images. they must think i am crazy. i am smiling.

now i am feeling not disrespectful. they better know they are doing something exciting. interesting. something i cannot do. i smile at the them. they smile back.

building work, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

window cleaner, dhaka, 30th jan 2012

nights...

2012-02-10T20:28:00.000-08:00

on the road...

2012-02-10T19:50:00.000-08:00

one time dancing....

2012-02-10T14:00:00.000-08:00

just a minute please...

2012-02-10T13:45:00.000-08:00

once upon a morning...

2012-02-10T13:41:00.000-08:00

my boss...

2012-02-10T13:39:00.000-08:00

being tourist....

2012-02-10T13:35:00.000-08:00

my maid..

2012-02-10T13:22:00.000-08:00

cooking with yan

2012-02-10T13:18:00.000-08:00

to goethe...

2012-02-10T13:14:00.000-08:00

moni...

2012-02-10T13:05:00.000-08:00

on a mission...

2012-02-10T12:59:00.000-08:00

timetable...

2012-02-10T12:31:00.000-08:00

adnan's work...

2012-02-10T11:17:00.000-08:00

Commemorating the sacrifice for justice

The Shia muslims tries to calm down aman who, while mourning, is trying to jump on the Taziyah in the Hossaini DalanImambada in Dhaka.

Dhaka 9 to 50

They move on tocarry on. But this survival has ugly realities. They are getting degeneratedfrom within, with this 'survival'. Massive migration to cities is universalphenomenon. Dhaka city is not an exceptional case. Space is limited everywherebut no one fights for it. They just fight with selves to let their body fit inthe 'space'. Their psyches may wander to get fitted somewhere also! The fittinggame goes on. The senses of fear, tear, share, anxiety or hapless happinessgenerate corrosive hormones of degeneration from within. The inside tollimpacts on outside as well and the 'game' of survival and fitting getsgraphical!

The Childhood ofanother Kid

Bashir is kidding during Tarabih, aspecial prayer during the month of Ramadan.

The Parallel Life

Some 11 years ago, an iron plate fell onFakir Pramanik from the shoulders of other workers, resulting into amputatingof his left foot. After that, he learned how to walk with an artificial leg andnow he sell papers to bazaars in different villages riding a bicycle.

Family Personal

I have no caption for these photos

(You can read the story text of thisphoto story if you need. All the photos are parts of five different photostories)

for a weekend...

2012-01-23T21:31:00.000-08:00

rice field, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

i leave for the first time dhaka. i am going to barishabo, kazipur, gazipur. gazipur is the district, one of the 17 districts of the division dhaka. kazipur is the main city of it, and barishabo is the village. the village is 3 hours away, in total. it is not far, but the traffic jam, changing from rickshaw to the bus to the mini car, to the motorbike and the unsteady street, makes it sow. i enjoy it, sleep most of the time.

i am going with tajul, a friend of a friend's girlfriend. was in bangladesh for 7 weeks, the first time after 12 years. he left because of different reasons, because of frustration, he says. actually he wanted to be in england, ended up in germany, ended up as a bavarian cook from franken. now he is back in his family village, since 3 weeks. and now with me.

the woman in the house they are amazing. the perfect housewife. even so amazing that i almost get ino the habit of not doing anything else. just being served. need to stop it.

barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

i know now why we took the motorbike. i said we can walk. cause of taking images, wandering around, not getting every single time of the bike. tajul said we should take the bike. so we took the bike.

and he was right. every single time we got off, walked around, people gathered around us, walked with us. that's ok, if they would not stand in the frame. and i understand. i would be curious. it is gossip. for them. so i do understand.

a while ago a friend of me said to me that he does not wanna live anymore in other countries. he would feel foreign and this foreigness would not wash up with the time. you could not disappear, treated equal, just as you. this is what i am saying. i think i could even wear a bin bag and it would not really matter. and actually i have to say i feel with my primark trousers and h and grey jumper ( i do not wanna even start to talk about this. i leave it for later) like in a bin bag.

he also says why don't you stay in your country. tere are issues to talk about as well. the kurds, the poverty... i know. i am here out of curiousity, that's it and to see, to learn, abut them, about me, and the gossip.

wall, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

jars, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

the village is big. but when i mean big that it is so big that you cannot simple walk through all of them. the village stretched in between and along the rice, banana fields, on a bit of a uprising part. not sure if that helps from preventing flodding. tajul says no.

every village has a mosque, a school and thousands of shops. a carpent, hairdresser, food, vegetable, sewing, dressmaker, a tea store. then again a hairdresser, a food shop, vegetable, maybe a carpenter, smebody who is fixing cars. and in between a lot of people. walking around, chatting, a few cows, chicken, a dog sleeping on the floor, not bothered by on and off coming motorbikes.

very slow life. i suppose this is one thig western getting fascinated about, desire it, romanticize it. some aspects. i am from a village and i guess it was like that 30 or 50 years ago. nothing special. its not anymore since television and big supermarkets arrrived. and that's not nostalgic.

cloth drying in a banana field, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

the woman touched me, on my face. over my eyes. on my body. tajul and me went into a home. because i saw something. the colors, whatever.

the woman was in her room. her daughter and her garndchildren outside. she was blind, talked, got really confused and at the end concerned. not sure what would happen with the images. she sayid. i was just smilling, did not know what else to do. i left, needed to leave, time was flying, and time was limited.

photographers are coming into a for them strange place, have something in their mind, maybe something very important, usefull and productive, for their story, can't speak the local language, smile a bit and then leave again and what is leave behind?

i don't think i am so important, don't misunderstand me, but just the pure idea. coming into a space with a woman in a very well age, who maybe never seen anybody foreign, not lets say somebody out of her village and then me coming for literal 5, 10 minutes and then leaving again.

did i know what i wanted their, except from documenting the space, showing the beautiness of it, communicating it.

was the same when i went to the old school of tajul, where there was just a celebration going and i ended up on the stage in front of all the kids because in that way they would focuss on the stage not on something else. i felt horrible. i never do that again.

barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

at the end we came into a wedding, passing it by. it was in a bigger part of the village, asked if we could stay. people were happy, actually less bothered by us, then the groom, who came in a shinny car, wit roses stuck with clear tape to the entrance on the wedding party,

he had to play a game, standing in fornt of a red string, drinking orange liquid, eating sweets. one of them was good, teh other make you sick. he has to guess and his friends are helping him. tajul said this to me, i think.

not sure how many guest were there. first the guest from the bride were eating, then the others from the man. lack of space, tajul says.

one little side gossip: the bride actually loved somebody else. this is at least what tajul's cousin said later when we told him about the wedding. he knows the bride. his cousin fell in love with her. and the friend of his cousin, but we ignor that part. anyway she was in love with him but had to marry somebody else. why? tajul's cousins says because the cousin lives in dhaka. i am not sure.


banners, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

briks, barishabo, kapasia, gazipur, 20th jan 2012

they are building a school. the old one is too old. so the village people decided to build a new one. out of bricks, cause clay is too soft, breaks to quickly. the more or less rich villagers were paying for it. tajul's family was one if them.

education is imprtant. even so being aware that it can cause the other effect and causes opinions like hitler is a strong leader and he did good things for germany as a lot of bangaldeshi told me. not important here. here it is important to learn read, write, math and english. that's important. really important, even just to get them time off work.

working....

2012-01-23T11:12:00.000-08:00

adnan, drik, dhanmondi, dhaka, 23rd jan 2012

adnan is one of the photographers. a news photographer who has a great sense of framing pictures. his pictures are black and white, hard contrast, no grey areas. framing snapshot like but sense for characters and building up a great tension and involves me emotionally. totally.

pictures about dhaka, about tarvelling, about density of people, about pressue, about anxiety context ? i do not care. i feel, i breath.

"do you know tillmann." me

he is looking at me, surprised, rising up his eyebrows, showing his white teeth. his eyes are sparkling.

"do you know i just thought just a moment ago about tillmann. this is crazy" in his bangaldesh accent, very hard, rolling r. he is shaking his head, turning around to the screen, till shaking.

working in the studio, drik, dhanmondi, dhaka, 23rd jan 2012

usually we do not work in the studio. usually more the opposite. we can, but we choose not, just when we have. i think. but that's my opinion. sumon has to, adnam chose to or i made adnam choose to.

adnam and sumon are really good friend. sumon says. sumon also says they have a very bad humor. very mean, he means.

i like the humor. like in general the humor of this place, my photo department. it can be tough, a lot of play with words. a lot of nonsense. but also seriousness. if it is neccessary. more earnest, if you can call it like that. nice combination.

sumon, drik, dhanmondi, dhaka, 23rd jan 2012

sumon is also a photographer, also for drik news, but sometimes studio. he is also funny, but yes indeed. but even more opinionated, perfect person to endless discuss things. very strong opinionated, speaks with his heands, with his whole body.

he wants to express himself within photography, show how real bangaldesh is. shoots perfect composed pictures, but tries to be now like bruce gilden. i think so, he says. but he is talking about things, about bangaldesh, about dhaka, about its problems, issues. not just for the sake of the image.

and he loves i phone. and its apps. not sue more the app or the i phone. downloaded within the first week 60 apps, something like that. as far i can remember. he can solve any problems you have and actually doesn't even get tired of it.

watching...

2012-01-23T05:08:00.000-08:00

candle, national museum, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

did i say. you usually do not walk in dhaka. not more than 5 meters at least. or lets say 10:) sorry but they don't. or the people i at least know. maybe this says something about the social class i am in. probably for sure. cause i am living in dhanmondi and that is a nice area. so nice that a person needs to have a more or less good income. the first time for me. usually living in small rooms, eating boring cheap food, first time i am part of the more upper middle class.

anyway i was walking. 50 minutes, from dhanmondi to national museum. maybe 40 if i would not get in trouble finding in the first place the way. but i found it, after walking along thousand of little shops for porcelan, people waiting for the bus. running over crossroads and not getting killed ended up here, because i was too early for meeting my friends for watching a movie.

and the national museum is part of the film festival, one of the locations.

park, public library, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

the film festival is already for the 12th time. for about one week, or two. for quite a long time. movies from all over the world. documentary, fiction, short film. all kinds. 3 locations.

one is the public library.

it has a park. people sitting outside, enjoying the time before the movie starts. there are a view tents with information, sellling desk. nothing special, a press department, or better say tent. i ask for some numbers. for the people who are organizing it. they are looking confused. one is getting his mobil out, searching for a name. writing it down.

cinema, film festival, public library, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

the movie we are watching is from iran. ' invitation' it is called. i love iranian movies. they are very metaphorical, beautifully visually made and great stories.

this one, not sure. 5 or 6 stories around woman and pregnancy, different aspects and how they are managing to decide for the child. actually a good idea, considering the fact that this aspect is probably not that well articulated in a country like iran. or at least to change my perception that these topics are not talked about in countries like this one.

only issue, for whatever reason i get after the fourth episode the slight feeling that it is a bit of a propaganda for woman not having an abortion in any case. not that abortion is good or bad, but at least having the choice, or at least the representation of choice or two sided would be good. so well, but anyway good so at least i get to know another side of iranian movie making and story thinking.

info desk, film festival, public library, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

playing...

2012-01-23T04:35:00.000-08:00

wall, abahani playground, dhanmondi, dhaka, 14 th jan 2012

abahani playground is open every day. morning till evening. if i go to work, around 9 am, people already going in there. in the evening as well. after it is dark and the lights are switched on. in between there are always a lot of people, sitting around, playing, watching, eating snacks. the usual things. like it. see it very often. is it because there is a lack of television and computer games.

it gets dark here very quick. close to the aquator. very quick. around 6, first bright then grey, then dark.

guys, abahani playground, dhanmondi, dhaka, 17 th jan 2012

on the playground people play football an cricket. most of the time cricket. but a bit football. actually a lot considering the fact that cricket is the games not just in bangladesh but in south asia.

this field is also place for the football team of the abahani club. It is a famous football club and within its 32 years between 1973 to 2005, the club played a number of times in the finals of the first division camp and premier division football league.

boy, abahani playground, dhanmondi, dhaka, 14 th jan 2012

cause of the size of one football field there is just one. result is that the less important foodball teams have to play in between the cricket area.

they love german football, they say. but even more english, and balack. i always hear balack. i am impressed. a bit proud i have to say.

legs and goal, abahani playground, dhanmondi, dhaka, 14 th jan 2012

wandering around 2...

2012-01-23T03:07:00.000-08:00

wall 1, dhanmondi, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

i am ok now. feel like people are not anymore constantly looking at me, saying 'hello', 'where are you from' or loughing. feel like i am part of all these people. that is good. in some points.

photographer need curiousity for their work. their eye has to stay fresh. even for a journalist. picking up topics depends how excited you are. i need excitement. otherwice i am bored. and then i do not look anymore.

at the moment i have 1001 topics i would like to talk about. but not about poverty, not about climate change, and please no slum- maybe about slum tourism and the annoyance of some people about ngo work.

the most people know about bangaldesh that, just that. oh and i forgot garnment industry and exploiting people. and it is good that people know it, very good. but not just that.

bangladesh is a country, people living in there. nice people, not nice people. but living, like everywhere. and like everwhere they have fun, they are interesting, they are boring, they are inspiring, they have problems. but not just.

i think that is important. plus also to tell. cause just fair to the people, to the country and actually to understand the problems they actually have. to widden the idea of a country, of its people, to make it human. but also to learn, or just to praise the the beauty of life, the extraordinary moments within a day. like gossiping.

and as gossip implies it is important to tell. if nothing, just for the fun.

wall 2, dhanmondi, dhaka, 19th jan 2012n

elections are coming. they can take from 3 month to 10 years. nobody knows. on what it depends.?on the temporary gouvernment, on the people, on the people who are voting. this is what i heared. what is true- or whatever truth is- there is an unoffical two party system. one is he leader, the other opposition. next to it they have a lot of smaller parties. not in charge, but around.

bangaldesh is a parlimentary representative democractic republic. head is the prime minister. this time a woman. like in india. i am impressed. says something about politics in bangaldesh. or at least the role of woman.

transport, dhanmondi, dhaka, 19th jan 2012

wandering around 1...

2012-01-23T02:50:00.000-08:00

cricket game, dhanmondi lake,17th jan 2012, dhanmondi, dhaka

cricket is like football. i mean the idea of it. play it somewhere with some people, friends, random. just use a pair of chairs, a ball and a stick. simple. everybody can play it. even so the lake is scary close to the playground.

one of the lazy afternoons for dhakas middle class who are wandering around the park next to the dhanmondi lake. they are eating icecream, chatting, drinking tea and watching people cricket playing.

in between kids selling sweets, food, drinks, running around. some are begging. the sun is shining. the cricket ball is hitting the chair. one point i think for them. still don't get the cricket rules. people are watching, no shouting. the guy with the candy floss turns his head around, curious. he is smiling.

shooting game, dhanmondi lake,17th jan 2012, dhanmondi, dhaka

to be in love in dhaka is a bit of a difficult thing. to talk to the other gender, yes, to hold hands, well, to kiss- no way. even if you are married. not in public. that is the rule.

in bangaldesh arranged marriages are still common. but depending on the social class. middle and upper class are changing their idea. starting now to meet up before they are marrying, getting to know each other. and then the family arranges the marriages. a bit of cheating.

the park is a place were young people mixed genders are meeting. one of the places were they are kind of allowed to do things they are not allowed to do in public. even if they are not married.

couple, dhanmondi lake,17th jan 2012, dhanmondi, dhaka

living

2012-01-23T02:34:00.000-08:00

building house, 15th jan 2012 tungi, near dhaka

the workers living in the house. in little rooms, seperated by small walls, made out of cement, in front of it maybe a cloth, hanged up on a string. more pieces of cloth on the floor. some people were sleeping, another guy in the corner just came from his wash, his shower.

we are walking along the different rooms, wanna go upstairs, on the roof. the steps are not finsihed yet. the last ones are made out of wood still, supported with bambus sticks.

building house, 15th jan 2012 tungi, near dhaka

praying...

2012-01-22T11:51:00.000-08:00

Biswa Jitema, 15th jan 2012, tungi, outside dhaka

we are waiting on the roof for a while now. came when it was still dark, guess around half 5. till then waiting that it would become light in order to get our picture. cause we wanted to have the best spot.

so we ended here, were already last night on a high skyscraper who was just build. a bit further down the road. this one even better. so we decided, so we were waiting.

biswa jitema is a islamic religious festival and the biggest one after the hajj in mecca, apparently. 5 million people come from around 80 million countries to pray to mohammed. so it says. not sure how they know it cause who the hell is actually counting and asking the people. same as the rickshaws guys.

guy, Biswa Jitema, 15th jan 2012, tungi, outside dhaka

with the sun people came up, on the roof top. joint us or better our view. with me was saikat, another drik guy, who helps me like a big brother. this time with biswa jitema.

last night when we walked through the crowed of people. it was dark and a bit scary, far too many people and many men. we were trying to find a spot to look at the people from above. went first on a watchtower, then on a abandoned building. i was wearing a long black veil. felt unsure and insecure.

this morning all was fine. with the daylight my security came back. standng next to the guys, taking pictures, moving around. did not matter anymore what i am, at least felt it.

funny that i felt it. interesting...

Biswa Jitema, 15th jan 2012, tungi, outside dhaka

flying....

2012-01-22T11:48:00.001-08:00

boy, kite festival, old dhaka, 15th jan 2012

every year old dhaka is standing on the roof. something like that i would probably see in a newspaper. headline. and does it? not sure, but we are standing on the roof with other people, qute a lot of people. music, hindi pop tunes could be heared all over old dhaka. fast, melodic. in between people standing with kits. those just small dots in the sky, almost invisible.

today is the kite festival, in old dhaka. done by the hindi people, in order to celebrate the start of the spring.

boy, kite festival, old dhaka, 15th jan 2012

old dhaka is in fact old. the houses are partly probably ten times older then the nation. they are small and high, filled up with a lot of families who live here for ages. old dhaka is also the hindi center of dhaka. very important cause just 5 % or the inhabitants are hindi. 85 % are islamic. so this is a special day for them.

the kites are out of thin paper, really thin paper. i got two, better say a friend of saikat bought it for me. 2 of them for 10 taka. anyway it is not about money. was just embarrassing, first of all because of my incredible good language skills i managed to refuse to buy a string ( did not buy a string because of avariciousness, cause mixed up 100 metre with 100 taka) and then also damaged by kites before they even were in the air. great majority i showed.


kite roll, kite festival, old dhaka, 15th jan 2012

one of the ideas within the kite festival is too show off. during the day with kiting in the best possible way. high and moving it quick and fast and maybe also trying to get other kites down.

funny i saw a movie about that. a kite festival in afghanistan. who were the longest in the air would win. a little guy won with his servant friend. both were not the most popular among the others. so that was great. but the following story was a bit of a tragegy.

kite festival, old dhaka, 15th jan 2012

demonstrating...

2012-01-22T11:05:00.000-08:00

taraji masjid, purana paltan, 12th jan. 2012

yesterday they were fighting. supposingly the bangladesh jamaate- e- islami- as far i can rememeber. after being in the mosque they were demonstrating, in front of it. and a quiet demonstration turned out to be a fight against the police. that was yesterday, on a thursday.

today, on this friday, nothing happened. but instead of it a lot of photojournalists and television guys were standing around, on the bridge, under it, in front of the mosque. waiting, drinking tea, looking around, having a chat, and waiting. in between the police, which was probably the most exciting part of the day. standing there in hundreds and passing the mosque in big cars while inside the mosque area the people quietly praying. people were checked who enter the mosque area, again coming outside. the photojournalist are still waiting, not moving.

the last deep voices from the megaphones sounded over the area, people started to leave the mosque, quietly, not even trying to make a shout. thousands of them, too many, in all directions. in long white dresses, the fancy one for fancy days, days like today.

i am standing with the other guys around. not running to another spot, talking to people and finding ut why there is not demonstration or no fighting. damn i hate to be a foreigner, a woman and than on top one of them who can speak o word bangla and is above a chicken.

taraji masjid, purana paltan, 12th jan. 2012

just a thought. now nothing happens and i am wondering does anybody talk about that? why are the photograohers and television people not taking pictures, making a story about that?- the nothing happens story. or why do u not move around, go somewhere else.

news are news are highlight. nothing happens is not a highlight.

after thought:

the bangladesh jamaate- e- islami is a party which is against the independence of bangladesh or the foundation of bangladesh. a strong islamic orientated party who is in opposition to bnp the political leading party of bangladesh.

the demonstration apparently did not happen because of biswa jitema

celebration....

2012-01-22T09:49:00.000-08:00

Habibays birthdaycake, 12 jan 2012, Motijheel, Dhaka

habibay is my teamleader. from drik. the photography department. he started 9 years ago with photography. what he did before? i forgot. he smiles most of the time, talks with a very calm voice, never tries to pressure m,e but knows exactly how to make me move. in between a fantastic sense of humor within his comments on the side.

it's habibays birthday. people from work and me came to his house or place. his wife phoned saika, to come around, to bring some food, rice, meat, a cake. saikait and his wife sutapa came, then sumon and his wife, then moni and me.

Sumon's wife, 12th jan 2012, Motijheel, Dhaka

we were playing games, eating, talking, in bangla, in english. saikat looked at facebook, played habibays son's computer games. sumon discussed work matters with habibay. the woman prepared the food, making tea, chatting. i was looking. 11 pm we went home. got a little car, tired, sitting next to each other.

habibay is now 50 years old. he never had a birthday party before that.


habibay's son, 12 jan 2012, motijheel, dhaka

on a way...

2012-01-22T09:28:00.000-08:00

on a rickshaw, on the way to take pictures, 12th jan 2012, somewhere in dhaka

there about 600 000 rikshaws in dhaka, but actually nobody knows. cause how? counting would not really work. or would you stand at the side of the street? the dhaka officials at least don't do it.

a rickshaw driver is owning for lets say a good half an hours drive 30 taka, maybe more. depending were you go and how far. not the length of time matters, the miles. i think.

earlier times they used to buy their own rickshaws, nowadays most of them rent it. for the day. at least this is what sadia told me. but she just know what the rickshaw guys say to her when she gets on teh rickshaw and has a little chat.

sadia is working with me, just a sideapsect. she is from engaldn, but actually bangladesh. lived in england because of her bording school, then went back to find her roots, in dhaka. now she works for drik.

she is nice, funny, and beautiful, as all the bangaldeshi girls. but sorry i do not wana generalize. just see too many amazing looking girls. not that she is good looking cause she is bangladeshi, case she is she, but maybe also.. whatever i don't know.

anyway rickshaw drivers are amazing. cars, little car rickshaws and whatever moves on the street, in between them, going fast, shouting, ringing the bell. in between bargain for the best prize, smoking a cigarette with the others on the side lane, looking for customers.

did i say i would not take any? well if i am alone, but with others yes definitly. cause they take one and to convince a dhaker person to walk. no way. apparently girls not anyway cause they would looked at weardly, guys not cause it is slow. but slower than standing in the traffic jam? considering the fact that dhaka is not just apparently "Rickshaw Capital of the World" but also probably one of the cities with the most amount of traffic jams.

last time i walked, from dhanmondi, my area to the public library for the film festival. 2 miles away, half an hour walk.

a friday on dhakas streets, 12th jan 2012

friday is a holiday in dhaka. everybody goes to the moshe, in the park or whereever you can enjoy your self. friday is my day off. maybe.

walking there....

2012-01-19T02:04:00.000-08:00

way to work, 12th jan. 2012, 12th road, Dhandmondie, Dhaka

not sure how many, for how long, when they started, when they finished, how many briks they need and if all the workers sleep in the little house next to it. but what i know, they are building, a lot. every day when i come out of my house at least 10 workers are there. in the evening more, also woman. they are working by hand, carrying cement in big bowls on there head from one place to the other, probably for the whole day. it is not hot, but hot. children are in between, helping, some young guys. maybe too young?

am i getting annoyed? i don't know. every time i am passing this place i am asking my own guiltiness again. what is better? respecting their need to earn money or trying to change them with telling them about the social and political unrespectfull treatment of there position, telling them how much better we have it in germany and encouraging them to revolt and quit there work for there own proudness?

i am sure i have my point, but maybe not here. jelousy and unhappiness for no sake is not the best starting point.

anyway it is about respect. for example the rickshadriver. i am not going by rickshaw, out of principle. the city is too small, i am used to walking, i can look, take images, don't get soaked up by the incredible hectic traffic plus also leadership of the rickshaw driver. there is no need for driving rickshaws, but am i part of destroying their system?

the same with my maid. she comes to me and cleans the apartment which is not even dirty because i am so embarassed of leaving my apartment dirty for her so i clean every morning before she arrives. do i need her? would she get angree because i do not allow her to work for me out of ideological reasons?

being there...

2012-01-19T01:24:00.001-08:00

view from my apartment, 11 th jan 2012, 6rd (new), Dhanmondi, Dhaka

i never lived better: 2 bedrooms, one kitchen, two bathrooms, one dining room, top floor, big ballcony or terrace and this view. almost like a dream.

i arrived midday on the 10th jan. tuesday. after surving the passcontrol, fighting against the group of arabs, who were constantly shamefully jumping the queue by pushing me with their, for me huge, body out of the way, after that getting my far too big backpack and then getting picked up by saikat, a member of drik, pushed through the entrance and into a car.

10 km and 1 hour later i am finally in my house, new place. and off to work again.

on my way...

2012-01-18T03:00:00.001-08:00

view from the plane, munich to istanbul, 9th Jan 2012

i am not very good in doing this blog. so excuss me for spelling, typing mistakes or even boring writing... but need to say this cause otherewice i never start writing on this blog, because i am to contious about not meeting the probably not even existing expectations and now after one week i need to start writing otherwice it gets ridiculous, unbelievable and even even more boring. anyway a blog is a blog is a blog and does not mean anything- does it? anyway, oh and sorry to write in english, but due to the difference in friends, the world knowledge and my bad german i get stuck to this language.

anyway what am i doing. I am writing a blog, i am flying and i am going to bangladesh. that's why i am doing a blog.

anyway what is bangladesh actually?

famous for its cheap garnment industry, exploiting workers, maybe its beautiful countryside and more for its climate change and if so nothing than for its poorness. guess this is what people think. i thought. maybe actually less. i just knew drik, the photoagency. that's why i am going to Dhaka.

TAV Istanbul Ataturk Airport, Istanbul, 9th Jan 2012

i need to wear a scarf. the stewardess said this to me before I got on the plane. or better i asked after seeing the two other woman who were in the waiting area with me. we were the only women, except the stewardess, we three. they were wearing a scarf or better veil, me not. so guess now i have one and even so i know it is nothing major and exciting and nervous wrecking i suddenly understand how those woman must feel when they are forced to take their veil off. not that they have to but the pure idea. i feel weared, not sure how to wear it and even the yout tube videos how to wear a veil don't help me. it just feels weared and i am sure i am standing out without or with one.

Ryiadh International airport, Ryiadh, 9th Jan. 2012

late at night, landing in ryiadh, transferring from one plane to the other, but 7 hours in between them. i am fine with that, cause i like airports, like looking around and explore. airports also have this weared idea of a free zone. you are not anymore in the air, youdo not really belong to the country, something in between. feels quite secure. people from all parts of the world, coincidently, not knowing anything about each other, piecefully, doesn't happen that often.

ryiadh airport is a gateway between the west and the east, they say. access to mecca. thats important. 5 million people living in the city, biggest in south araia, also important.

I am here trying to find a way out, out from one exit, not throught the airport exit, but transfer, as usually, if you fly longer. but the transfer way just ends into another whole which leads into the next gate for another plane. that's wrong. wondering around, finally meet two guys from turkey, they are on the way to phillipines. my mind is turning. i am smilling. they do not know each other, but now. i follow them, get out through a side entrance into the waiting area. not sure if i am allowed, but they two guys are happy. so me.

i am still wearing the veil.

Shahjalal International Airport, Dhaka, 10th Jan. 2012

Between then and now

2009-05-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

Bavarian Forest, Bavaraian Forest, August 2007