Absence of pictures.

There's not much to photograph here in Kigali. It would be like walking around LA with a camera. Big buildings, in various states of construction or decay, crowded streets, funny little shops. In the midst of the photogenic void there are the people.

Like the man who works at the post office.

Over 6 feet tall and weighing in at around 130, he could be as young as 40 or as old as 70. Customers hand him the slip of paper that denotes an awaiting package. He slowly recedes to the bowels of the post office basement and then emerges with the parcel and a tattered book for you to sign, acknowledging you’ve received your mail. He kept his eyes toward his feet which never left the ground. He softly spoke only what was required and his voice turned course and perturbed if he had to repeat his selective words.

Haunted. After discreetly watching him for a few minutes, that's the word that came to mind. Haunted. With him, as with many of the people with sunken eyes or hunched backs, the questions always arise are, "What have you seen? What have you lived through and what did it show you about human's capacity for evil?” Pain and loss etched the deep lines in their foreheads and cast a haze over their eyes.

To hold a camera in front of those faces would reduce their wounds to souvenirs.


Chimpanzees, on the other hand, make great photo subjects. I should be seeing loads of those in the next few days. Now to figure out how to gain acceptance into their troop so I can get a group shot with them…