Wherever I May Roam

An unexpected moment of celebrity

puritto — Wed, 27 May 2015 10:52:04 GMT

On a cold Sunday afternoon in Hangzhou,I heard the the swelling, poignant notes of the Chinese violin echoing across a park near the West Lake.
It was one of the classics that every player knows. The men on the bench scarcely had an audience; they seemed to be there for themselves, two musicians together in the outdoors.

I complimented their playing and one of them spoke; I struggled to understand what he said. His roughly-hewn, colloquial slur was a far cry from the clean diction of the classroom. His deeply-creased face told a story all its own, with the contented smile of someone who loves what they do. I said in stumbling Mandarin that I had begun to learn the instrument, but wasn’t very good. He chattered excitedly. Seeing the confused look on my face, he simply held the instrument out to me. All I had learned to play were scales - something I definitely couldn’t explain in Chinese. I looked nervously to his companion, who nodded enthusiastically. As I reached out, he rose from his seat and motioned for me to sit.

I went through the checklist in my head, gingerly positioning the instrument, my fingers and arms properly. With focussed deliberation, I played the scales. When I looked up, I was startled to see a sizeable crowd of elderly Chinese people. My musician friend had rustled up an audience to see this curious lao wai play the erhu. He beamed at me expectantly, motioning for me to continue. But that’s my whole repertoire, I thought, ready to utterly embarrass myself.

Then I remembered the wild card: messing around one rehearsal, I had figured out roughly how to play ‘Somewhere Over the Rainbow’ as a bit of a joke. It was all I had, so I decided to try. I played with all the swagger I could, concentrating hard and even adding some vibrato for effect. I hit a couple of bum notes on the way that I had to correct quickly. I looked up again, proud to have pulled something out of the hat – to utterly mystified faces. They’d never heard the song, let alone heard it played badly. I searched through my vocabulary for anything useful and told him it was an English song. It all made sense now – he smiled, turned to the crowd and announced, “It’s an English song!” to a delighted and collective ‘Ahh!’ I handed the violin back before I could further dent the reputation of English music, and went to mingle with my new fans.

In that chance encounter in the corner of a small park in China, I learned that even famed locations have hidden gems, if you dig.

Photos: My Scholarship entry - A 'place' I have visited

puritto — Mon, 8 Jul 2013 09:08:00 GMT

I graduated in Law but my passions lie elsewhere. I've tried to do the conventional thing; follow what people just 'do' when they've graduated, but the call of travel and the call of creative work will not be denied. These are the things that make my heart beat in a way that nothing else can. To me it is not enough to take a photo of something, but to capture the feeling of it; to make it evocative. I like to think I've made progress from when I bought my first camera 5 years ago, (I managed to lose that one in a 10-storey drop trying to go the extra mile for *that* shot I wanted) but I feel like I don't know where to go next. I look at popular photography magazines and I see all manner of photoshop techniques - and the results do look spectacular - but they don't look real. I want to show people things they can see with their own eyes, if they have the courage to step out of their comfort zone and do something adventurous. I've meandered lost for a few years. Now it's time to embrace the opportunities in front of me, develop my skills and see what I can give to this world that is unique. For that, I need to be open to criticism, new experiences and learning. I am ready.

A Local Encounter that Changed my Perspective - A Surreal Subversion

puritto — Fri, 19 Apr 2013 12:43:24 GMT

Land of grace, Samurai honour and coy Geisha elegance; quiet restraint and unrivalled politeness, ruled by obscure social cues impenetrable to the western mind - these things I had been taught. Still I was lost.

With primitive language skills and even the foreigners around me nattering away in fluent Japanese, I felt helpless but to follow the herd. Despite my having lost track of directions 20 minutes ago, someone seemed to know where we were going and that would have to suffice.

One day things would become landmarks to me – a supermarket, a shop I couldn’t yet decipher the name of – but in the eerily quiet night of this supposed city, greyness overwhelmed all.

All, but for one ludicrously garish sign; bright yellow burning on hot pink. It read, I was told, “Mario’s”. My romanticised view of feudal Japan was about to be assaulted.

I was stood on a dark, empty street Jack the Ripper would have felt at home on, facing a psychedelic restaurant named after a fictitious Italian plumber. In Japan. We were greeted by bombastic 80s J-rock with wailing guitars, too-emphatic vocals and trendy synthesisers. The décor wasn’t any more modern. The books lining the walls were all sports-themed comics. I was told that this was a ‘guy’ restaurant; a concept that had been alien to me. True to form though, the other customers were suited salarymen stooped over bowls of rice, their fashionable locks excluding sight of the world beyond.

The owner swaggered lazily over. Her permed and short hair was another homage to the 80s. Her face was compact and owl-like, lips sucked into a permanent pout that gave her a look of mild surprise. Despite her slight frame, her manner gave an air of cockiness that was a far cry from the primness of most Japanese women. Had we been in America, I am sure that she would have been named ‘Bertha’ and able to hold her own whilst serving bulky bikers.

Embarrassingly, I alone needed assistance and had to have the menu translated for me. Exacerbating my embarrassment she caught sight of my hairy arms during this time.

“Amazing!” she gasped, and without warning reached out and stroked the hair. So much for Japanese reserve. She babbled away, apparently oblivious to my discomfort – something about being like a bear. Another Japanese 80s classic blared to life. Blithely she went to give our orders in.

The food turned out to be delicious. I smiled and decided I'd put up with her occasional eccentricity. Besides, food tastes better in a time warp.

My Scholarship entry - A 'place' I have visited

puritto — Mon, 14 Jan 2013 13:31:15 GMT

I grew up traveling, so appreciation for the world's cultural riches is deeply ingrained in me. It has driven me to travel widely as an adult at every opportunity, diving head-first into 2 exchange programs to Hong Kong and Japan. I've traveled to places knowing little to nothing of the local language and made do with gestures, crudely drawn pictures; anything at my disposal. I make an effort to learn some of the language whilst there, even if it's only 2 weeks - because the effort opens doors that others miss.

I've done crazy things to get photos, like running into the road, setting up my tripod whilst the lights were red and taking a long-exposure shot before running to safety as the lights changed - repeating until I got the right shot - because I can get lost, obsessed in trying to reach that perfect shot.

Even from digesting the advice given in the video FAQs, I have learned a lot about what makes good photos, and how they are things I have aspired to intuitively but not been able to specifically articulate.Guidance is exactly what I need, and I will drink it up in pursuit of a life where I may be privileged to combine 2 of my greatest passions and make a living from it.