17 December 2016: Trinidad, Cuba.
More than 10 years after its publication, I read again the book/comic “The Photographer“, taking place in Afghanistan and particularly in Badakhshan. Strange feeling than to realize that what was a source of amazement and admiration a few years ago is now a source of memories and nostalgia. Working in Afghanistan wasn’t always easy but definitely was a fantastic and rewarding experience. End of a cycle… for now.
21 February 2015: Bagan, Myanmar/Burma.
Now, with my bags and trunks ready, a new standby started today. New mission in Yemen and already a feeling of frustration not to be there with and for my team. Soon… inch’allah.
24 February 2015: Mandalay, Myanmar/Burma.
“Why don’t you write more about your work?”. The question is not new and the answer always remains the same: I do not share details of my work. Yes, ICRC made me adhere to a code of conduct, “encouraging” me to avoid posting stories on the organisation’s activities without its approval. And yes, a big part of my work involves confidential aspects (meetings with interlocutors from all sides, visits in detention, ….). But honestly, it only plays a secondary role in my decision.
The truth is simply that this blog is not about ICRC, the countries I am working in or the atrocities I might be witnessing. This blog is about sharing pictures, coupled with some stupid anecdotes or, from to time to time, more serious thoughts on general subjects. While people enjoy reading poetry, cooking or practicing yoga after work, I love photography. And as it currently is not my main activity anymore, this blog a good excuse for me to keep shooting and challenging myself.
I am not against the idea of talking about some parts of my work or Afghanistan. You will just have to invite me for a drink or dinner :-). But if you can’t wait or currently live a bit too far for that, some talented people, with more skills and knowledge than me, should already be in a position to help you. Start by having a look at the Afghanistan Analysts Network or keep an eye on The New York Times, who frequently has interesting articles.
31 August 2014: Barcelona’s streets, Spain.
Few years ago, taking an airplane was, in my mind, associated with the notion of travel and packing was a part of the process, one of the last step before discovering a new place. Something exciting.
Today, packing became part of a boring ritual. The content of my bag is always the same and, on the way back, packing only consists in trying to squeeze food and books between my clothes. No excitement, just an automatic process, my mind floating somewhere else.
If I’m with some friends, it’s ok. But usually, I’m alone, left with space to think. Some time to kill, alone, downloading a last album, watching a movie, eating or drinking for the last time what I won’t be able to touch for weeks or months (and although I am already full). Hours in an hotel room, an airport terminal, train, waiting…
Thinking about me having spent a few days in Switzerland is always like thinking about an half empty glass. Or is it an half full one?