Preparations
To fully and comprehensively understand the national Cuban psyche one must insinuate oneself into the fabric of the local culture; dig yourself into the endothelium and stay there. Ruminate and soak it all in. Poke it. Watch it react. And when it reacts; run for your life!
So, out went the large telephoto lens. In went the small 50mm Prime 1.8 - perfect for those covert night time operations; light, nimble and very fast.
Out went the bulky backpack. In went a little knapsack.
Out went the expensive Diesel T-shirt and trainers. In went an ordinary looking 'Che Guevera' look with white loafers (ok, maybe a bit too obvious!)
Armed with these simple tools I set out documenting Havana - underground.
On blending in
Blend in, do as the locals do, walk, act and behave like the locals - and try not to get yourself into any situations where you have to speak. I've been described as looking almost Cuban (Mulatto they call it). This has it's advantages and disadvantages. You get served a little slower and sometimes you are singled out by tourists; like the fat American tourists who approached me for directions:
"Excuse me, do you speeeeeak Engleeesh, we are lost"
Sometimes i just say:
"Me no speak no Engleeeesh" with a thick Indian accent.
Sometimes if I'm feeling particularly mischevious after repeating the previous line i'll say:
"Only joking with ya'll, In fact i speak English very well. How may I be of help?"
It usually takes the tourist about 10 seconds to fully fathom what's going on and that I was joking with them earlier on - ahhh, it's so funny!
On tourists
The worst tourists are the snobbish one's with the trophy wife with the inch thick layer of make-up. It'd probably take industrial paint stripper to wipe all that of - these tourists are normally aloof, conceited and walk around with miserable faces as if they're having the worst times of their lives - come on guys you're on holiday - cheer up!
On sex crazed Cubans
Cubans, generally speaking, are sex-crazed nymphos who walk around with permanent erections and sex on the mind. The women play along too, lolling their tongues, rolling their eyes and swinging their hips and wearing the tightest thing they can find in the wardrobe.
It reminded me of a wildlife documentary where the narrator (in whispered tones) says:
"So, the female, with vibrant plumage and on heat, walks past the males. Attention is secured swiftly and the males respond with displays of masculinity"
I don't know, maybe it's me. I know I am a member of the human race, but I thought we'd left all this behind us when we left Africa?
On the Art of night-time photography
The best way to get a good pic is to sit down on an interesting looking dark street corner. Be patient and let them come to you. Being seated allows you to concentrate on the composition and other technical aspects such as exposure, white balance and shutter speed. The small lens makes you less conspicuous and if your smoking it all looks normal. ISO will typically be at maximum, aperture wide-open to let in every drop of that precious night light. Focusing will be done manually as it's too dark for autofocus.
So I isolate the subject. Isolate. Isolate. Isolate. Remove any clutter from the frame. Compose. Shoot...all within a millisecond. Works a treat.
Voyeur extrodinaire
There is a certain adrenalin rush associated with this type of photography. It has a risk element. I was chased out of a house by two women for taking their photo (don't ask!). I've been verbally abused. Someone tried to purloin me of my camera and I was spat at by a drunk bloke and fondled on the streets by some hookers. Night time is when the ugly face of humanity rears it's head. There's a certain 'Joie de vivre' (joy of life) I get out of it. A thrill. You can feel your heart pound against your ribcage. In short it makes you feel alive...
It's the ugly that makes you appreciate the beauty.
