June 23, 2019 | Not from these Parts
I’m not sure if the crack I heard was the sound of my heart breaking or the fourth wall shattering.
As I sat outside of the Sedlec Ossuary, I took notice of a couple of precious tourists in fun hats admiring the area. Naturally, I got shutter happy. Still staring through my viewfinder, I saw a man approaching me. I played it cool, assuming my typical chameleon stance. I pointed my lens to the left to deter him from thinking I was photographing his group. But when I came back center, he was smack dab in the middle of my frame — photographing me. I knew exactly what was happening. A camera duel. I wasn’t discreet enough minutes earlier, thus I had to face the repercussions. We both laughed while firing away. It was a friendly and humbling exchange.
Though he was lighthearted and humorous, many of my encounters of this nature have not been so kind. During my first week here, I photographed a man through the window of a glass store. He bolted through the door and chased me down; then, he asked me to delete every photo of him that I had. Half of the time, mothers are almost immediately on guard as soon as they see you approach with a camera. While shooting during the morning, a woman covered the eyes of her dog as I bent down to photograph it. (What’d I tell ya about Czechs and their dogs?) Europeans are usually very protective of their identities and information, hence the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR).
The first sentence of this blog was a bit dramatized, as I’m numb to these occurrences. In fact, I enjoy them. Gauging threats and casing a joint has become a sixth sense. It’s the thrill of photojournalism. I’d like to feel it forever.
Ode to Prague 