A Portrait

 

³Visual diary. 

The photo was taken at dusk, mid-September.

We were trying to catch a ride to the border. ‘We’ was a small group of Syrians on the outskirts of the transit camp of Kanjiza who had spent the day together, thinking about the best way to cross. I am neither Syrian nor did I want to cross yet - but at this point, we were all tired, dirty, thirsty, and it felt instinctively as a ‘We’.

We didn't get any additional information at the camp and had almost lost each other in the chaos. After getting out of there - the smell of shit, the litter, the taxi drivers surrounded every few minutes by other groups eager to get the fastest possible to the border - we had started to walk with a long line of others along the road. We didn't walk long -  tired and nervous, our small group soon came to a halt.

N - and I sat down by the roadside. He had been a writer, a filmmaker before the war. We started talking about the books we loved. N- then asked about my camera; I handed it over to him and he took two photos of me. After the first shot, he asked "How can I make the background more blurry ?" I gave him some advice and hope the final result is blurry enough.

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