These posts are coming a bit out of order, as I begin to process my Nepal trip/thoughts/pictures.
There was one moment in Nepal where I went to the Pashupatinath Temple, a world heritage site, and a still-used Hindu pilgrimage.
I know that in the Hindu faith, bodies are cremated soon after death, to release earthly sins and begin the cycle of life again. What I didn't know was that this was the temple where that cremation happens. One side for the rich, one side for the poor, holy men and babies buried, purification in the Bagmati River.
I knew there was a chance that I could stumble upon this type of ceremony and direct confrontation with death and life during my time in Nepal.
What I wasn't prepared for were the tourists.
Shorts-wearing, fanny-pack touting tourists carrying cameras. Taking pictures of the cremation. Of death rites.
I got really angry at them - because that is not ok. I understand it is new, it is interesting, it is something different than what we are used to for death rites. But what if it were there family? Their ceremony? It was strange enough that we were there, as outsiders, but to then take pictures? To trivialize it to a Kodak moment?
Show some respect. Think when you take photos - think if it were your life, your family. I was traveling as a tourist - not as a journalist. My role was an observer, not an invader.
I also think people were using their camera to distance themselves from what was happening in front of their eyes - a marriage of life and death. They were using the lens as a safety net.
Things I think about when I travel, and when I try so desperately to see everyone as individual, as human, as like me.
<3
There was one moment in Nepal where I went to the Pashupatinath Temple, a world heritage site, and a still-used Hindu pilgrimage.
I know that in the Hindu faith, bodies are cremated soon after death, to release earthly sins and begin the cycle of life again. What I didn't know was that this was the temple where that cremation happens. One side for the rich, one side for the poor, holy men and babies buried, purification in the Bagmati River.
I knew there was a chance that I could stumble upon this type of ceremony and direct confrontation with death and life during my time in Nepal.
What I wasn't prepared for were the tourists.
Shorts-wearing, fanny-pack touting tourists carrying cameras. Taking pictures of the cremation. Of death rites.
I got really angry at them - because that is not ok. I understand it is new, it is interesting, it is something different than what we are used to for death rites. But what if it were there family? Their ceremony? It was strange enough that we were there, as outsiders, but to then take pictures? To trivialize it to a Kodak moment?
Show some respect. Think when you take photos - think if it were your life, your family. I was traveling as a tourist - not as a journalist. My role was an observer, not an invader.
I also think people were using their camera to distance themselves from what was happening in front of their eyes - a marriage of life and death. They were using the lens as a safety net.
Things I think about when I travel, and when I try so desperately to see everyone as individual, as human, as like me.
<3
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