Mary Ann
While traveling in the South of France with friends, we decided to take a cooking class. It was held at a winery, and it all seemed so romantic and adventuresome. First however, we were going to the Farmer’s market in Aix-en-Provence to get the food we needed to prepare for our dinner. It was farm-to-table which is most of the meals in France.
The market was full of stalls that held produce of fruits and vegetables, fish, poultry, red meat, breads and pastries, and of course, cheese. It was a feast for the eye! The cheese monger was an older gentleman whose white hair and beard looked like an unruly goat with hair sticking out everywhere. He was beautiful. Just the kind of picture you want to take to remember a day at the market. So, I was sneaking around trying to get the perfect shot. He, however, was on to me and kept ducking or turning his head. I just was not going to get a picture of this” beautiful” man. No luck!
We met up with the chef who took us to the various stalls to buy the ingredients. The chef explained how to choose the perfect ingredients for our dinner such as selecting a monk fish – boy, one ugly fish! Then we moved to the cheese stall where the “goat” man reigned. I was coming face-to-face with the man I was trying to photograph. He looked me in the eye, and I looked him in the eye. We totally recognized each other. I was so embarrassed turning every shade of red, because he knew what I was trying to do. I spoke to the chef asking him to apologize for me. I was just plain rude to this man getting into his personal space regardless how enticing the picture would have been. The chef told the cheese man how sorry I was. As it turned out, the week before, he had been manhandled by a lady from Germany who took “selfies” of this poor man who just wanted to sell his cheese. The German woman shook him so when I came around with camera in hand, he thought I would do the same things. The goat man and I smiled at each other, but I don’t think he really trusted me. He went on to explain through the chef how the cheese was aged, and we tasted the difference – all very interesting! I then slinged away. I never did get a picture of the cheese or the cheese monger.
We continued shopping and then departed to the winery cooking the afternoon away in the creation of an excellent meal. We sampled their delicious wines, and it truly was a memorable meal. As we departed, they sent us off with three bottles of wine and the recipes. Yummy!
I did learn a valuable lesson that day about photographing native people. Tourists are the paparazzi of the average man. You must respect them. They are not a building or vista that is there to photograph. They are living, breathing people with feelings. Since then, I have always asked if I could take a person’s picture. I did always ask for permission to photograph children – too many weird adults out there who could use the pictures in a bad way. For the most part, people like to be photographed and some of my most interesting shots from any trip are of the people who live there.
This blog has been a lesson not to be the paparazzi of the native people of any country. It makes tourists live up to the ugly American reputation or in this case, the ugly German! Just ask and accept the answer they give you. You will find most people are kind. Smiles are universal!
Silver Sage Sisters 