Unseen, Unheard
“Unseen, Unheard” / Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea / June 2013
Me, I had to zoom five floors down from my hotel room window to the street below to capture this image — a mother and child selling a few things by the sidewalk on a late, rainy afternoon. But I know that this gesture is never enough. Aside from this fleeting attention I gave them, none will see or hear them amidst the chaos of the city street except those with a passing need of their items or with plans of taking advantage of their weaknesses.
Later, I went to bed bothered then was awakened in the middle of the night by the loud noises and seeming violence on the street below. I staggered out of bed half awake and, through my glass window, quickly surveyed the spot where I found them. I can figure out a number of drunks, some cars and a few hookers on the dimly lit street but can’t find them. They have gone to the safety of whatever they call home for the night. That was my hope.
The drag of endless mental work in a strange land takes its toll. Fatigue can kill so petty escapades provide hopeful deviations from the brewing madness. An aging DSLR keeps good company to a walk around the neighbourhood, a short drive to a scenic place, or a silent recollection in a quiet nook granting that the host community and the elements of nature would allow one a safe passage to solitude and contemplation. Loneliness quickly turns to joy when something exciting gets captured by the cam’s shutter then set free into the laptop’s screen followed by electric words that rush from the fingers to the keyboard in an effort to describe the moment. Alas, the brain is alive once again!
And we have to have that hope, Jessie…the sadness would be paralyzing otherwise. I see your tender heart, my friend. Thank you for sharing it.
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Thanks, my friend. And I agree with you, we have to have hope to survive. Thanks for your thought.
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