I found myself totally swarmed by Indian children. If I turned, they ran around in front of me. If I tried to back up, I found myself unable, being completely surrounded by them. They started making demands to me in English, and it seemed the only English they seemed to know involved asking me to take their picture. My only means of escape seemed clear: I started to get down and snap away, hoping their photographic hunger would soon be satiated, but nay, I was a fool- their hunger only grew. They soon grew tired of group pictures, and each child wanted an individual picture. As I tried to comply, other children would rush in to sabotage efforts of their fellows’ solo photo attempts, and immediately ask for their own solo shot afterwards. It was a whirlwind of treacherous individualism gone horribly, horribly wrong, and I was stuck in the middle of it all.

Saturday morning, I got up at 5 am, showered, and headed down to Newport Bay. It never ceases to amaze me that despite barely being able to wake up in the morning during the week everyday to go to work at 9 am, I don’t have any trouble getting up for shooting jobs. There’s also something cool and calming about being up that early and driving around. You feel a sense of camaraderie with the few other early risers you share the roads with in the early hours. Also, waking up early to be on a boat in Newport Bay isn’t a bad way to start the day, either.

I decided that I was going to bring Cherise back some kind of black pearl jewellery as a gift from India. Hyderabad is something of a world center in pearl commerce: around 90% of the world’s pearls pass through Hyderabad at some point. You might find this odd for a city that’s nowhere near the ocean, and you’d be correct. It’s pretty damn weird. From what I understand, it has little to do with geography and more to do with historically cheap pearl processing labour. That’s right. Hundreds of years ago, pearl processing was outsourced to India.

This photo was probably the first good ‘people shot’ I got while I was in India. I took it at Golconda Fort, a fairly popular domestic tourist attraction for Indians, with not quite so many foreigners present. We had been cruising around the place, and this young woman took a quick interest in my camera. She was separated from her group, so I asked if I could get her picture. She didn’t quite understand me, so I gestured with my camera and asked if it was ok. She hesitated, looked back at her group who weren’t paying much attention to her, and then smiled… and bobbed her head. I paused for a second. What the hell does that mean? And that was my first cultural gap experience in photography.