The Magic of My Tripoli...

It's been a while since I've written anything worthy of my city. Over the past few months, I've kept my head low and my expectations lower with all the shenanigans and trouble that's been cooking up in the city. I didn't recognize it anymore, and if I called it by name, you'd only hear it a whisper: Tripoli…

Two weeks ago, the holy month of Ramadan graced us. With it, the gunfire quietened, the burning tires and blocked roads stopped burning and opened up, and a fresh breath of faith breezed through the city. In this light breeze, I heard a voice. It sounded familiar, from not so long ago. It was my city, Tripoli, calling again. It was barely a whisper, but I heard it, I listened. And I answered... 

This calling was from a group and event I oh so love, We Love Tripoli's "Ramadaniyat" Shoot As You Walk. Every shot of every corner, street, place, and person in this city, every new lens test, and photographic learning experience, I am forever grateful to this group, esp. to it's head, Taha Naji. Our latest meeting was last Sunday, after the Taraweeh Night Prayers. Taha had decided we gather at a new checkpoint, The Municipality of Tripoli (i/o Nawfal Palace). It was quite a crowd; some there to socialize, some to walk, and some to take pictures. When we started, as we do every time, I like to make my way to the front of the group. I think you get better pictures of the streets and spirits as they are from up front. And that's where it all begins...

We walked as we always do, and I always start off frustrated with the difficulty in taking good night photos. After several darkened and blurry snapshots, I finally find an acceptable camera setting and scout my eyes for "moments". I sometimes don't have words to describe what I see and feel. But when we entered the old souks, to the children, that's where my heart started beating for Tripoli again. From the drummer kids in the street, to the children playing with fireworks, to the mischievousness and carelessness on their little faces, that was their real life, raw. And for a moment, I was a part of it. See there's a quote about photography which speaks from my heart. It reads: 

"WE ARE PHOTOGRAPHERS. We are not here to show people what they can already see. We are here to give them experiences they would otherwise never have experienced. We are here to preserve moments that otherwise would have been forgotten. We are here to capture things which have no words to describe." 

And then, I saw him. I hadn't seen him since last Ramadan, at this exact same location in Moussa's Cafe. I wouldn't mistake his cute face anywhere, and God, how he'd grown... 

I don't think he remembered me, as the only words I've ever told him year after year were "can I take a picture of you?" And he'd flash me his cute grin and enjoy the spotlight I'd give him. I later learned that his name is Omar. Omar had grown up so much since I first met him in 2010. He'd also gotten his hands on a motorbike, which he seemed to be enjoying more than anything. And his beautiful smile never left his face...

Omar in 2013

Omar in 2010

We walked through the crowded cafe, bustling with hubble-bubbling locals, kids with toy guns, and of course, Omar circling around on his motorbike. I knew when we reached this point it was the end of our tour.  But it was in that moment that I found it, I found that though I love shooting people candid, I loved shooting children candid even more. The souk kids, all of them, they just stole my heart. And I just can't wait to see them again!

So if you're still reading this, then with all my heart, I invite you to join me on some of the most beautiful experiences anyone can go through in Tripoli, and that's "Shoot As You Walk". And for double the magic, join a "Ramadaniyat" event because I still haven't shown you how beautiful it is… :-)