I Heart Indies

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Cameras

Nancy mislaid her camera and a shadow fell over our trip until she got it back from the shop where she'd left it.
"I was in here yesterday," she began, "and-"
"Yes," said the shopkeeper in playful admonishment, "and you left your cah-mare-ah," holding it up by its strap like a mouse.
Not losing something is best, but there is delight in losing it and then having it restored - especially by a droll shopkeeper. (Incidentally, all the shopkeepers here are droll. It's part of their licensing requirements.) I was particularly happy to see Nancy's camera again; it had all the pictures of me.
Of all the foolish things tourists do, the foolishest is probably our incessant picture taking. Surely memories should be enough, right? Besides, photos never quite do what I want them to do. I can get a picture of the snowpeaks above the old bay and the multicolored buildings with their red tile roofs - but I can't in the picture the sense of "I'm here now! This is me right now in this place!"  I can take a picture of vineyards stretching in patchwork down the Cretan mountainside, but never get the tinkling sound of bells from a nearby herd of sheep.  I don't have a camera with me to catch the beauty of the rain-splashed cobbles of Hania. I see a cat stalking something on the red tile roof across from our room, and take a picture, but I'm not zoomed in far enough, and before I can take another, she's gone.
But still - what else can I do? Sometimes there's just too much beauty for two eyes to hold, so I start taking pictures.
Don't forget your cah-mare-ah.

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