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Letter from Seoul by Michael Kennedy

Letter from Seoul

by Michael Kennedy

Police do not carry guns in Korea.    This would be especially poor optics for a Pro-Life demonstration in downtown Seoul.

It’s never good to display symbols of violence while people advocate the sanctity of life. 

Hundreds of people demonstrated recently near Gwanghwamun Square in downtown Seoul against a new law that legalizes abortion after being banned since 1953.

The three-year Civil War fought between the North and the South on the Korean peninsula from 1950-53 – known as the Korean War, left the South free to pursue democracy.    

Seoul is the crown jewel of South Korea, officially known as the Republic of Korea – and as a measure of its miraculous rise like the Phoenix of Greek legend, it’s also known informally as The Republic of Samsung.

If the military of a nation-state shoots people dead for trying to leave the country, then they are truly living in a vast prison camp. This describes North Korea perfectly, a gangster state run by Kim Jong-un, a textbook sociopath.

There is only one Korea, and Seoul – a city of nearly 10-million people on the mile-wide Han River, is literally the heart of the country.  

When Koreans want to leave the country, they head for Incheon International Airport, a world-class facility about 30-miles southwest of Seoul, near the Yellow Sea. There are no worries about being shot dead by the military.

When Koreans want to express opinions about important political and social issues, they frequently gather in downtown Seoul, and march to  Gwanghwamun Square – considered the heart of Korean history.  There are no worries about being shot dead by the police.

When political passions are displayed in the streets of Seoul, the public does so with a level of respect for protocol that is to be envied. Differing viewpoints are the hallmark of an open society, yet there are no opinions among Koreans so strong that violence is the last word.

Groups like the Pro-Life demonstrators last Saturday obtain a parade permit ahead of time through proper authorities. After approval is arranged, a contingent of Seoul police is assigned to “serve and protect,” and maintain basic order. While the police take these responsibilities seriously, the level of respect among Koreans for tradition and group conformity almost translates into the uniformed officers serving as chaperones.

In Korea, compulsory military service applies to all men between the ages of 18 and 28, and they are required to serve about 18-months. If the military branches have met their quotas, young Korean men often serve as auxiliary police officers. 

If, however, you are a member of BTS, the wildly popular K-pop sensation, you might be exempted from this obligation. There is both an exemption and an alternative service system for athletes and artists who are recognized for promoting national prestige - winning designated international awards or national contests.

In American street vernacular, this is expressed as: ‘Money talks, and bullshit walks.”

The status of BTS and compulsory military service remains an unresolved issue – for now. 

When older groups of demonstrators march through downtown Seoul, the auxiliary police are often young enough to be their grandsons. And, as politically-minded senior citizens everywhere need to rest and enjoy some refreshments and snacks, even if the agenda is serious, the optics often suggest that grandsons as auxiliary police are simply making sure the grandparents do not exert themselves … too much

During outgoing President Moon Jae-in’s term in office, there was no mainstream media coverage of political demonstrations in Korea. Yet this did not discourage his critics and others from “taking it to the streets” nearly every week until the COVID-19 pandemic changed so many things.

Korea sits at the intersection of tradition and liberal ideals, and the issue of abortion is guaranteed to be divisive in nearly every culture.

As for tradition, a monarch of the Joseon Dynasty ruled the Korean peninsula from Seoul for 750-years, starting in 1392 – a century before Columbus screwed up on his way to China, and encountered the Western Hemisphere. The Japanese put an end to the Joseon Dynasty in 1910, when they invaded the peninsula.

The last Joseon Emperor,  Yung-hui, refused to sign over control of Korea to Japan, but the Japanese forced Prime Minister Lee Wan-Yong to sign for the Emperor instead.

The last century brought unimaginable changes to the Korean peninsula – and yet Korea has emerged from countless upheavals to become a fledgling democratic republic influenced by the ideals of the United States.

Yet  the increasingly activist U.S. Supreme Court has a six-seat phalanx ready to dismantle the liberal ideals of post-1960 America – especially the abortion rights guaranteed by Roe v Wade. This has the potential to set off conflict in America that will make the social turmoil of the last decade look tame.

To say Korea is a fledgling democratic republic in no way diminishes how the country has adapted to the fast-paced challenges of The Information Age and become an economic powerhouse with the world’s 10th largest economy.

In case anyone is wondering about the status of the Joseon Dynasty heir, His Imperial Highness King Yi Seok has his Samsung cell phone on stand-by for the call back to Sedong Palace. 

Yet in 2018, the 77-year-old Emperor wannabe, who had lived in a run-down van for years, named the 34-year-old Prince Andrew Lee as his successor. However, the current Crown Prince is a Korean-American who lives in the Sodom and Gomorrah of Nevada known as Las Vegas.  

  

Not to be outdone, the current heir to the Stuart Dynasty of England is a chap who calls himself Franz, the Duke of Bavaria.   He’s also waiting by his cell phone for the call from London. And for Russians who may find Putin deranged, morally repugnant and embarrassing, Grand Duchess Maria Vladimirovna Romanova is hanging out in Madrid, waiting for that special call back to the palace in St. Petersburg.

  

Yet in Seoul, there has been a significant changing of the guard - called the popular vote in a democracy, and political maverick Yoon Suk-yeol from the conservative People Power Party will succeed President Moon Jae-in on May 10.

Yoon has no policy or governing experience and was   HYPERLINK elected last month with the narrowest margin in the nation’s democratic history. He faces the test of rallying the opposition-controlled National Assembly and a divided nation weary of income inequality, soaring housing prices and empty promises of hope.

Central to Yoon’s foreign policy is “rebuilding” Korea’s alliance with the United States, a nod to Washington’s frustrations with the outgoing government of President Moon Jae-in, whose foreign policy ambition of brokering peace with North Korea made him wary of jeopardizing relations with China and Russia, North Korea’s allies.

Korean presidents serve a five-year term with no possibility of a consecutive second term.    During Moon Jae-in’s presidency, there were regular demonstrations against him through downtown Seoul to  Gwanghwamun Square, where he was routinely denounced as a Chinese lackey, a North Korean stooge, a Communist, a putz, a clown, and a hundred-proof fool.   The new President will eventually face his share of dissent, as well.  

  

Korea may sit at the intersection of tradition and liberal ideals, but geography is destiny, and this country is a peninsula of China, with Japan only 575 miles away - and Vladivostok even closer at only 464 miles.

  

By plane, Seoul is an equal distance from both Beijing and Tokyo.    During the Korean War, General Douglas MacArthur never spent one night on the peninsula; he always commuted from his Command Headquarters in Tokyo.

  

Everyone knows that as Ukraine goes, so go the Baltic States in Europe.    Everyone knows that as China has already brought Hong Kong to heel, Taiwan is next.  

  

Koreans do not want to talk about the fate of this peninsula once Taiwan is crushed by the People’s Liberation Army of China – yet Xi Jinping would like nothing more than to drive the U.S. military out of South Korea and bring the entire peninsula under Chinese control. 

With this scenario a possibility, it’s not surprising that a good many people here have U.S. dollars stashed in the major banks of Seoul, or beneath mattresses at home.    The Korean banks even pay interest on U.S. dollars – at a rate comparable to stateside banks.  

When the going gets too shaky here, Koreans will take their U.S. dollars and head for Hawaii or California.    There’s always Joseon Crown Prince  Andrew Lee in Las Vegas.

In this world anything is possible.

    *     *     *

All photographs are from a Fuji X-T2 with a 27mm lens, set at f11 for 1/1000. 

 
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Michael Kennedy
Thursday 04.14.22
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Romania-Ukraine border

on the right side of history by Bruno Lavi

Romania-Ukraine border

by Bruno Lavi

About three weeks after the start of the war in Ukraine, I had a call with FLORIAN SALAJEANU, a friend who coordinates the refugee reception activity in SIGHETUL MARMATIEI on the Romanian-Ukrainian border.

The phone call dealt with details about the influx of refugees flooding the Romanian border, the difficulties of the refugees, the coping of the supporting teams, the spirit of volunteering, and other humanitarian issues that FLORIAN deals with. By the end of the conversation, I decided to experience and take pictures of everything that could be documented there.

I went out there on 17.3 along with COSTAS DUMITRESCU, a friend, a gifted photographer of the National Geographic Romania who lives in Bucharest.

After a long drive of about 9 hours, we reached the border. First of all, we were impressed by the entry flow and reception processes of the refugees. Everything is neat and organized by the book. With the entry of the refugees through the SIGHETUL MARMATIEI border crossing, they are greeted by volunteers with food, hot drinks that calm the unusual cold for this season, children's toys, phone cards, physical help to carry the refugees' belongings, warm clothes and other important items for a man who ran for his life and left everything behind from the horror of fear.

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The local volunteers, international volunteer organizations, the police, customs workers, first aid personnel and everyone else there, are working, showing endless patience, warmth, hugging, strengthening, and listening.

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I am listening to the horror stories of those who speak, and feel the silence of those who do not speak.

The immediate impression is that most of the refugees who have left the war zones already suffer from initial signs of post-trauma syndromes. There are those who speak nonstop or those who sit in heavy silence. Sometimes a hug or an accurate word of the support teams can unleash a volcano of pain and crying.

I'm among them, shooting pictures and trying to get the exact frame. Every now I stop shooting and I’m just listening to stories.
A woman around the age of 40 talks about the fighting of Chechens in her city who use children as a protective wall against Ukrainian fighters. Around her are several volunteers, priests, monks, police officers with the shock and outrage on their faces, alongside the warmth and empathy directed at the poor woman.

Most of the refugees are women and children, with very few men. Florian tells me about a guy who managed to cross the border with his little brother at 11:40 P.M., 20 minutes before his 18th birthday. For him, it's the 20 minutes that might have saved his life from the war.

After the Romanian crossing point, I notice an impressive bridge, through which the refugees enter after passing the Ukrainian checkpoint. The commander of the Romanian border station is taking us there. Notices that half of the bridge is filled with dolls and toys on its sides. He talks about the initiative of several people to scatter the toys on the bridge, thus a happy and colourful reception for the children of the refugees. Of course, any child could take what they wanted from the scattered toys.

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The station commander tells us endless stories about the refugees, the volunteers, the police, and himself. Notes his around-the-clock investment, with high adrenaline, and shares with us his reaction at the beginning of the crisis, his crying and pain he felt towards the refugee children, in parallel with thoughts about his own child. No doubt, a sensitive and proud person of what he does and his mission wherever he is.

Looking around and seeing a lot of kids of all ages. All in a quiet, unnatural manner for children their age. The mothers are focused on the logistics issues, feeding the little ones, conversations with the volunteers and other mothers.

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There's not one direction everyone's going on. There are those who continue to Bucharest where they will stay or continue to other countries with the immediate intention of obtaining refugee status so that they can first work. Others travel towards the Czech Republic, Poland, Germany and more.

Some prefer to stay close to the border and wait for the winds of war to stop. From here they will be able to return faster to their home country. To complete the picture, we decide to visit Romanian families and other organizations that host refugees near the border.

First, we arrive at the home of a man and his mother who host two girls aged 12 and 13. They're alone in Romania. The mother of the girls works in Italy, the grandmother who brought them to Romania, went back to Ukraine to finish her arrangements there. She will return to them of course. The girls rarely speak. One draws without a break, the other dreams of returning to skiing. I ask the hosts how much longer they can host them? The answer is short and simple: as much as the guests want.

Moving on to the next house. The hostess is a nurse at the hospital. They have three women and two young children in their home. My first question is why is she (the hostess) doing this? Her answer is also very simple: someone must do it. I’m asking her: is it difficult? Not simple, suddenly she takes care of another 5 people, and not only for their usual logistical needs but also for their so vulnerable souls.

Suddenly I feel like in front of me is sitting a great woman, like the women we read about and talk about them in the news, in history, in books or in movies.

The next visit is at a spiritual centre of the Greek-Roman Christian Church, a part of Catholic Christianity, the centre is operated by nuns who every day deal with spirituality, taking care of the soul of the believers, helping people and the needy and the centre's housework.

In the centre are hosted by several dozen women and children. The accommodation conditions are of a high standard, like a nice hotel. Everyone is running around, the energies in the air are positive, feeling that the refugees have found a corner of Eden Garden. I knock on a door and walk into the room. Ask permission to take pictures, the woman agrees but asks that her face not be seen because … she hasn't had time to wear makeup yet – suddenly there's a moment and a place of returning to the daily sanity of life.

In front of the room there's another room where an old lady refugee can't open the door from the inside, two nuns solve the problem. The nuns stay a few more minutes for conversation and communication with the lady refugee. The communication is difficult, the nuns don't speak Ukrainian and the refugee doesn't understand any other language, the warmth and empathy are felt in the air, and that's enough for everyone...

I'm starting a conversation with the nuns. There are no dilemmas or questions here. Everything is simple, you must help and give from yourself. This is their Christian life from abstinence to the end of life.

The next morning, we decide to go to the train station, which at the height of the influx of refugees has become a major transit point towards the south and western Romania. This time the station is quiet with a small number of refugees continuing to the unknown. The train station is small, simple, probably from before WWII.

Before we leave for Bucharest, we decide to pass through the MONASTERY of PETROVA, located about 30 km from the border crossing. The monastery is located on the mountainside, with beautifully magnificent valleys. We are greeted by the abbot
AGATON OPRISAN. We hear the story of the monastery, about the dozens of refugees who are hosted for different periods. The refugees are in constantly dilemmas when to leave and where to go. Father AGATON is constantly engaged in making everything easier for them, that the food will be delicious for them, that the children will continue to receive an education and that they will not stop studying, organizing plays for them in the nearest city and of course taking care of each one's medicine. All the time the children run to the father AGATON, hug him. The father does not remain indifferent, pays attention to each child as if he has all the time in the world.

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Father AGATON takes us to the room of ANASTASIA who left Ukraine along with her son and mother. Before the war, ANASTASIA dealt with journalism and public relations. Proudly tells us that during the election period, her company provided public relations services to President Zelensky. Talks about the president in terms of admiration laced with pride and love. ANASTASIA, an eloquent English speaker, tells of her husband who remains on the front lines of the fighting, tells of how he is the only one who volunteered to enter with his bus to Mariupol to get children out of hell. She did not know that he (her husband) is so brave, smiling and saying shyly that he had fallen in love with him all over again... We are sitting in her room with her mother, son, and the abbot. She continues to tell us about her family, the war, and her deliberations for the future. Talks about everything in full self-control, points out every detail and in a sequence of neat documentation, exactly like a professional reporter she is. Then comes the breaking moment - I ask her what she left behind? Suddenly her eyes fill with tears when she shows me the pictures of the beloved dog that remains with the neighbors there in Kiev. Begins to cry as she repeats the phrase: “In my dog’s last pictures, after we left Kiev, his eyes are saddest”.

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Later, we meet Tania, the mother of two children who are with her. Her husband stays to serve on the front lines, and it really bothers her that she's not there with him to fight back. She comes to terms with reality, as she cares for her two children who are Ukrainian and who will grow up to be proud patriots in their own country.

Before leaving the Monastery of Petrova I ask the abbot how much longer can he host refugees and how many more can come? His answer was also quite simple: as much as necessary and as much as God would like and send.

After 48 hours of visiting the Sighetul Marmatiei border, we decide to return to Bucharest.

It's hard to sum up a visit so short that it's a drop in such a great sea of this irrational war, in 2022 in the heart of Europe. Since time was short and the coverage was scant, I would not summarize anything related to the refugees, they had just begun their difficult journey. I will only refer to the Romanian people. As one who was born and lived there for a while, I was most moved by the spirit of giving and volunteerism that is displayed in every corner of Romania, nonstop around the clock.

A huge thank you to FLORIAN SALAJENU for getting us into the wonderful world of giving and caring for others and for introducing us to the wonderful human beings of kindness and voluntary endeavour at Sighetul Marmatiei of the Romanian-Ukrainian border.

Great appreciation to abbot AGATON OPRISEANU for his divine work for humankind and a lot of thanks for his precious time spent visiting us.

A lot of thanks with great appreciation to the people hosting refugees who patiently let us into their homes with endless patience for the questions and time we were there.

On a personal level, I’m most proud of my belongs to the Romanian people, that in this humanitarian crisis is on the right side of history.

 
Bruno Lavi

I fell in love with photography at the age of 50 and consider it a great gift for me!
Photography for me is actually a multi-layered journey of material and human environmental discovery.
As with every journey, I enter into known or unknown areas, sometimes alone sometimes accompanied but always with the dream of discovering something else in the realm of creativity.
Most of my work is about people and contact. In general, the humanistic ethos is at the centre of my interest where the human being with his attitudes, attributes, activities, or thoughts is always at the centre.
The psychological, historical or geographical view of mankind inspires curiosity and interest in examining it in the purest way I would like it to be reflected in everyone.

Wednesday 03.23.22
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

EPIPHANY Part II by Shimi Cohen

EPIPHANY Part II

by Shimi Cohen

There is so much philosophical evidence for the existence of God: cosmological evidence, vision from planning, ontological evidence, and more.

But perhaps the best evidence is the simplest: People believe in God, simply because they saw Him.

What do atheists say about it? They have a preconceived argument for all these cases, which were and will be: a hallucination! The same people, who attest to a meeting with God, are simply delusional. While they sincerely believe that they experienced the revelation of a supernatural being, in fact the entire event occurred in their minds only, like a tangible dream.

The human brain has a wonderful ability to create convincing fantasies, and that is what happened to all those people who supposedly met God.

In sum, the boundaries between objective and subjective, imaginary and realistic, are very vague.

It is very difficult to provide conventional definitions that will determine what really exists and what is only in the imagination. Until such agreed definitions are given, the practical conclusion is to trust people's testimonies-especially if they are, as stated, a multitude of different testimonies, from all times and places, some of which are very serious.

If people say that they have seen God, the simplest explanation is that they did.

This time I chose to compose as music for the text the wonderful DEPECHE MODE, in the song PERSONAL JESUS

 

The text is the same as last year but there are new photos from this year.

Qasr El-Yahoud , January 2022

#Epiphany


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Qasr al-Yahud
 
 
 
Shimi Cohen
 
 
Wednesday 01.19.22
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

"The Monk" by Shubhodeep Roy

A Photograph of a holy man.

Mystic India rediscovers India, a land of many mysteries and fascinations, the one land that all desire to see. Home of the Himalayas, the tallest mountains, India is our world's largest and oldest democracy and contains an amazing wealth of wisdom, culture and spirituality. And within this earliest civilization known to mankind, lie hidden mystical secrets. It lies hidden in India’s silent spirituality, making her a mystic land of meditation, contemplation and enlightenment. Religion is the cornerstone of life and culture in India. For over 2,500 years the country has been the home of the largest body of organised monks. Known as a sadhu (the Hindu nomenclature for monk) or as sanyasi, yogi, muni, swami, and many more, they are the votaries of the Vedic spiritual heritage and represent the essence of Hindu spiritualism.
A sadhu is easily recognisable by the tilaka, the sanctified marking he carries on his forehead, and by the robes and apparel prescribed by the sectarian code.
Sadhus leave their home and family and reject an earthly life, which includes all their worldly attachments, As part of this renunciation, they also leave behind their they rely on the generosity of others. Sadhus don't lead a normal life like others, they choose to live poorly and only find richness in spirit and humanity. Sadhus are people who have chosen to dedicate their lives to achieving religious illumination and liberation from the cycle of reincarnation.
There are four to five million sadhus in India today and they are widely respected for their holiness, while also feared by some who believe they have the power to inflict curses. A photograph of a monk captured in India.

 
 

Shubhodeep Roy, Birth 24th January 2001, Kolkata, India. Student at the University Of Calcutta

Shubhodeep Roy



Monday 01.17.22
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Winter Watch and Saturnalia light up the streets

Winter Saturnalia

Chester by Keef Charles

It’s evening, cold and dark but that should come as no surprise, it’s mid December. Turn the ignition, hope the car warms up quickly, half hour drive. 

But that’s when I stopped thinking about the cold for when I got to town and felt the buzz my heart was warmed and smiles lit as a mischievous coterie hit the cobbled streets of Chester.

For this is a city steeped in history, and quite rightly loves to remind its townsfolk and visitors of its tradition, sometimes with a light hearted twist. Founded as a walled city and garrison of the Romans, their occupation dating to 47/48 AD, it served also as fortified defence against the Viking raids and testament to the border feuds and battles between the English and Welsh. Suffice to say, it has a colourful past.

Colourful indeed, but back in the 1400s, the Winter Watch was more than just a pageant. The City Watch, equivalent to a police force, would patrol the streets of this walled city to safeguard its security. Only when complete could the keys of the various gates be handed over and people breathe easy. Well, actually at Christmas time, rather more was at stake. The ceremony would herald the start of the Christmas banquet and celebrations.

Today’s procession was recreated by the City Council in the 1990s as part of a fun build up to Christmas and whilst it is essentially pagan, a camel and it’s retinue offer a humorous nod to the Crusades and a delightfully portrayed head of John the Baptist adorns the serving plate of the chef who leads the Victorian feast.

The characters before and aft, however, are no less lively or colourful. The Lord of Misrule, released for the evening, dances and struts ahead of the fabulous drum beats of the Karamba Samba band, dressed as ghosts and ghouls.

Unlike the larger Midsummer March, held during daylight hours in more clement weathers, these paraders consist mostly of adults but a few children do make up the throng of Devilish characters, a bright orange glow added to the proceedings.

Darker in colour than the Devils, but perhaps less so in character, are the Ravens associated with Chester’s Cathedral. Some of which, along with other giants on display, engage playfully with the crowd. A few shrieks of delight could be heard as the kids were drawn into the revelry but one particular dog was not impressed with the giant skeletons, such that barking didn’t suffice, and a few howls were thrown out for good measure.

The rest of the participants comprised the Dragon, symbolic of bordering neighbours, the Tree of Life, Angels and Jack Frost, who strode big and bold behind the Ice Queens. Oh, but I mustn’t forget the small band of Dixie playing skeletons, adding a musical note to the tail end of the procession. So cool.

That was the cast on the first night’s feast for the eyes but the following Tuesday the Roman Deva Victrix 20th Legion gave a taste of the ancient Saturnalia, as they joined the parade, albeit briefly. Alas, we saw less of this torch bearing troop, for they parted ways with the rest of the ensemble and headed off down more distant streets, Emperor Domitian proclaiming, at end of their march, that their rule was not over and they had taken back the city, after, it must be said, a considerable number of centuries.

Oblivious to said military coup, the rest marched back up towards the city centre, back to the starting point of the Town Hall. Riotous and resplendent were the characters that offered me and others a witty and entertaining look at some of the more memorable aspects of Chester’s history. The cold banished for a time, these were nights to relish and remember in the build up to festivities.

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Keef Charles
Tuesday 12.21.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Scarecrows by Keef Charles

Scarecrows

A walk for Halloween

by Keef Charles

Trick or treat?


It’s early October and I’m working at a friend’s place, down the lane from where I used to live, out in the sticks, two thirds the way toward top of hill, villages of Llanfynydd and Ffrith nestled in valley below.

Driving past my old family home, I noticed an effigy of Boris Johnson and laughed out loud, at the wood placed strategically at his feet, bonfire fashion. No, I’m not a sadist but I detest our Prime Minister and what he stands for. Anyway, moving on, I surmised it was something to do with Bonfire Night, where many in Britain tear up the black evening sky with a torrent of fireworks and rend the air asunder with deafening explosions. Didn’t think much more about it until driving home on the western route, I spied a couple more effigies, looking more like strange scarecrows, with their bright orange pumpkin heads. I was intrigued. However, with work building up and a trip to prepare for, I decided I wouldn’t have time to investigate.

A couple of days ago, though, I came back to the village to do a quote for a friend’s son, this time heading into the village from the east. Lo and behold, more scarecrows. OK, I thought, I must have a proper drive around and find out what’s it’s all about. Well, it was chucking it down, that is to say, raining heavily and besides, I didn’t have my GRll with me on this occasion. But, I knew I had to take a look.

Today, despite a need to complete my packing I ventured back. Why not? I could afford a little time. After all, I had some nervous energy to dissipate and some last minute shopping to do anyway, so I pocketed my Ricoh, just in case. Having driven the few extra miles, I discovered that a competition was taking place during the month of October, to build the best ‘scarecrow’. Profits in aid of charity, a fundraiser for the local horse riding school for the disabled.

Short of time, my trip was a leisurely drive, rather than a ramble, stopping whenever I spied something worth shooting. The quality of the creations varied but it was evident that people had fun in the process and I’m happy to say, shared their ribald humour. I don’t pretend for one minute that this is my most serious photographic work but, hey, it was fun.

I’d forgotten how beautiful the two villages, the hills and the valley were. When I lived here with my family, up until three years ago, despite the pleasure of many a walk up and over lanes and pasture, on through the forests, I kind of took this lovely landscape for granted. Until today, any return trips were tinged with sadness which marred the experience. Today was different, today was not the same. The camera lens showed me not only the mirth and merriment of others but the wonderful undulating countryside that was my home for many a happy year. 

It was a treat.

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Keef Charles
 
Saturday 10.30.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Myanmar: media photo!

Let's help the people of Myanmar

12.15.21 Update about 1:40 pm

Karen State Myawaddy District Fighting between the Karen National Union (KNU) and the Karen National Liberation Army (KNLA) continued in the new town of Lay Kay Kaw until the night of December 15, forcing thousands of locals to flee

The military council fired 10 120mm artillery shells and 81mm mortars into the new town of Lay Kay Kaw, burning down a house in the village and setting fire to another house.

There was heavy fighting and heavy artillery fire, and a local correspondent said many people were killed and wounded, including a captain of the military council, but the exact number of casualties on both sides could not be confirmed.

As of 8 pm tonight, there are more than 1,000 local refugees fleeing the fighting in the jungle, according to a reporter who fled with the refugees.

Military tensions between the two sides began on the morning of December 15, with the military council trying to keep troops out of the new town of Lay Kay Kaw.

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www.bbc.com/burmese
www.bbc.com/news/myanmar

12.15.21

Today Battle start at 12:00AM Lay Kay Kaw city KaYin State .Military using airstrike nearly 250 civilians are trapped in the city.


The latest situation of Lay Kay Kaw (2:05 p.m.) ------------------------------- Sources on the battlefield confirmed that at least six people had been killed by the military council and at least three by the PDF. Currently, the fighting is calm.

12.14.21

A photographer and a graphic designer, Ko Soe Naing, was another victim of the Myanmar military's systematic torture to death, killing about 90 people during interrogation so far after the coup. He was arrested on Dec 10 while he was taking photos of the Silent Strike in Yangon. His family and friends learned about his death today. He may be the first media personnel tortured and killed by the military since Feb 1, 2021. He was survived by a 4-year-old son and wife. Rest in Power Ko Soe Naing!

#JournalismIsNotACrime #whatshappeningnowinmyanmar #Myanmar #TorturetoDeath #Torture

Ko Soe Naing

10.30.21

HAPPENING NOW: The burning of Thantlang Town, Chin State is quickly spreading to the upper block and lower block of the town.

The fire is known to have started by the shelling of a lot of rocket-propelled grenades by the junta after one of its soldiers is killed by Chinland Defense Force - Thantlang.

Below are pictures are taken from afar and by drones at close range.
JUST IN: Our source has confirmed that more than 270 houses of Thantlang town, Chin State have been burned down to the ground in the fire started yesterday by the shelling of rocket-propelled grenade. The fire is known to have been razing throughout the whole night, with some houses remaining burning now.

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10.24.21

BBC: https://www.bbc.com/burmese/live/burma-58884812?fbclid=IwAR3MlHUtJOF6HiV021CkxWp1lkq4yUGDI9C5w3WswbuiFt6QNdEgkiNpyno

Military mission at Mandalay city. One journalism has been detained.


Battlefield is the public area between the Myanmar military and People defence forces at Sanchaung City Yangon

https://www.facebook.com/khitthitnews/

10.22.21

Myanmar military kills the blind shoot to civilians at Sagaing state Tant Sal city. Two men died today at 4:30 pm. we are losing human rights and all civilians was be worried. The military uses drugs and Rape the woman. They mind are out of control just like a zombie.


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Thursday 10.21.21 Myanmar: media photo from Chin state Hakahr City and Kayar state DMawso City

Myanmar military kills the blind shoot to civilians at Sagaing state Tant Sal city. Two men died today at 4:30 pm. we are losing human rights and all civilians was be worried. The military uses drugs and Rape the woman. They mind are out of control just like a zombie.

The latest news from Myanmar is terrible. These images come directly from the two places where the repression is hardest right now.

The people of Myanmar ask governments around the world not to sell weapons to the Myanmar Army and not to recognize the coup government.

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Myanmar military did Airstrike and cut off the internet. They burn the villagers' houses. Nearly 30 people were killed each daily. Now they are using Chemical weapons attacking to the Chin state

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Thursday 10.21.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Cancha by Shimi Cohen

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Cancha

by Shimi Cohen

While meandering through the streets of Havana, I have come upon shirtless young men or boys banging the daylights out a ball against a cement wall in what looks like an outdoor version of a squash court.

Being an avid squash player myself, I decided to investigate and finally find out more about this popular Cuban sport.

As I watched from the sidelines, I could see that what they were playing, appeared to be a mix between squash, tennis and racquetball.

I inquired as to the name of the game and I was informed it was called “cancha” or “front wall tennis”.

Unlike a squash or racquetball court, both of which have four walls, a cancha court has only

three walls.

Cancha seems to be played with a racquetball (slightly smaller than a tennis ball but bouncier and not as hard as a doubles’ squash ball) and gets moving very quickly as the game gets going.

Tennis rackets appeared to be the weapons of choice.

Scoring seems to be like that of doubles squash but don’t ask me to teach you.

Even after I was told four times, it was still Spanish to me.

At the match I watched, the players were fast, fit and extremely competitive. They also played endlessly.

One day I will be brave enough to step on the court!


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Shimi Cohen
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Sunday 09.26.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Photo biennale in Ostend by Nadia Eeckhout

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Photo biennale in Ostend

Nadia Eeckhout

The photographs and their passers-by

I was emptying my mind, filling my lungs with sea air; however, camera on the chest. Seagulls were circling above the Ostend sand and sea, making their screeching noises (how I love that noise). One large flock was flying a frame around a couple of boats; huge cargo boats, slowly floating by on the horizon. It might have been a nice shot, but I didn’t take it. I was enjoying that glorious Friday morning with a promising sun and its still quite deserted beaches, except for a few early sunbathers, some joggers and beachcombers. Continuing my stroll along the seawall, I suddenly distinguished large placards installed in the sand. Photographs. Giant photographs. Impressive works. Soon after, I gathered they are part of the Ostend international photo biennale, a route of expositions of the works of eminent photographers on many different locations in- and outdoors, throughout the city of Ostend. Conceptual and contemporary.

The photographs spread a kind of mystic aura over the deserted beach, turning it into an almost surreal landscape absorbing me and many others. Eye-catching interventions; a generous invitation for clickers. I forgot all about emptying the head and filling the lungs, ready to register that gorgeous sight from various points of view.

After midday, the queen of Belgian seaside resorts got crowded. I still encountered some other photographic works exquisitely installed amidst the Ostend mixture of modern apartment buildings and the lovely monuments in authentic belle epoque style. Visitors, casual passers-by, photo shooters, cyclists, strollers, hungry sunbathers, you name it; many people were passing along the photographs having a closer look, taking pictures, or not taking notice of them at all. Anyway, their presence established an interaction with the works, with them becoming actors or even the protagonists of a bigger frame. A story within a story; sometimes generating surprising scenes, funny juxta’s, surreal moods, etc. For me, a fascinating experiment I wanted to share.

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Nadia Eeckhout
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Friday 09.24.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Gothenburg Street Photo Festival

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Gothenburg Street Photo Festival

Niklas Lindskog

This past weekend saw the Gothenburg Street Photo Festival, the first of its kind in the Nordic Countries.

Gothenburg Street Photo Festival

I was there to see and listen to the talks and to meet old and new friends who all share the same interest.

There was also a photo competition. I had sent in the maximum allowed number of photos, three collections and twelve single photos (6 colours and 6 b&w).

Out of those, two of my collections made it to the final. The total number of collections was 79 and ten were chosen. 20 each of colour and b&w single photos and 10 under 29 single photos were also chosen for the final. All the photos that made it to the final were printed and mounted on temporary walls in an exhibition space.

winnwers

Close to the end of the festival the prize winners were announced. I was a bit nervous because my friends thought I had a good chance. First came the collection category. The third and second prizes were given, checks to use in the Scandinavian photo store at about €350 and €750. When the first prize was announced it turned out that my collection "We Are All Animals" had won! My prize was a Fujifilm X100V camera!

The man who judged the collections was Roger Turesson, a press photographer with about 40 years of experience at two of the largest newspapers in Sweden. He read out a really nice motivation he had written. Here's a translation:

"With a really good sense of spontaneous moments and humour, the photographer has captured the parallel street life between humans and animals. There is a clear theme but without repetition. A well-crafted collection that maintains a high level throughout."

Roger Turesson

All in all a beautiful event and very well organized! I sure hope to go back next year!

Niklas Lindskog

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Congrats Niklas!

 
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Tuesday 09.21.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

The first day of school by Bogo Pečnikar

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The first day

of school

by Bogo Pečnikar

On September 1st I made an urban photo walk in our pretty little town.

I was lucky to hit one of the streets, popular with youngsters, just about the time when the first school day was over.

There was a joyful excitement in the air. The busy street was full of youngsters, some of them mostly girls with weirdly scribbled faces. Here there is this habit among the high-school students, to scribble the faces and exposed body parts of the newbies, mostly with the letter “F” as for “fazan” (pheasant). Not a completely harmless habit, since they were using regular permanent markers. Hard to wash out, but won’t even last until the first tattoos, piercings and alike.

While the majority of work has obviously been done back in schools, some of them were still chasing each other with markers in their hands…well it was mostly boys chasing girls, but they didn’t seem to oppose very much, I’ve seen a group of girls having a scribble sense behind a corner (who would like to be the least scribbled girl on entire high school-or the one, who didn’t do their artwork on a college’s face).
Being presented with such a photo opportunity, the street photographer in me wanted to take immediate action. Did a few shots. However I’m much too slow with my cane, to chase them around, so I decided to continue with my slowish tempo scanning the scene from far. Having a wide-angle 21 mm prime pancake lens on my Pentax crop DSLR, I had to get pretty close to fill the frame, in verbal communication distance, anyway.

Lots of “zooming with feet” which, again isn’t my forte so I had to compensate with my experience and prediction by scanning the scene from far and picking my subjects in advance to reach them with my snail tempo and then take advantage of my self-confidence and feeling comfortable with getting with my camera into people’s faces. The above mentioned verbal communication helped a lot besides, the subjects rather liked being photographed. Also, the street has a slight downward inclination which helped me to keep the tempo with the crowd. Anyway, I thought I’ve deserved the macchiato I had later in a café near the river.

 
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Bogo Pečnikar
photo by Matjaž Vrečko

photo by Matjaž Vrečko

 

Begnagrad was a slovenian avant-garde band formed in Ljubljana (Slovenia, ex-Yugoslavia) in 1975.

Tuesday 09.07.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

50th Anniversary of the First Pride Parade

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An Evolution of Pride

by Shimi Cohen

The year is 1970, the place is New York. The date for the first Pride Parade is set for June 28, the first anniversary of the Stonewall Riots, which ignited the fire of the revolution one year earlier.

They had no flags, nor trucks decorated with dancers. There were no smiling mothers or fathers among them, nor supportive grandmothers or tanned tourists. They did not even have a budget. But they had one clear goal: to walk the streets without shame. Until those riots, LGBT people were forbidden to express affection in public or to be themselves. Members of the gay community were forced to dress in traditional clothing according to gender: men in suits and women in dresses. Until that hot morning.

There was nothing special that day. Early in the morning, the police again broke into the proud neighbourhood bar and started arresting the workers and passers-by at the place, but in one moment they woke up. Gays, transgender, lesbian, bisexual and co., Who have decided to stop being silent, to stop being ashamed, to stop being afraid. What happened in those minutes that ignited it all? Opinions differ. Some told of a drag queen throwing a stone at a cop, others reported a lesbian woman who inflamed the crowd, but one thing everyone agrees on. It was the most important event of a community, even before she knew it was such.

"Gays at the time had no power, but they certainly had pride."

The "Stonewall riots" lasted five days, symbolizing the beginning of the proud struggle for equality and recognition. They changed the way the community saw itself and the way society saw it. In the months following the riots, dozens of proud organizations, groups and associations organized and arose, which began to fight for acceptance and recognition. Later they began to roll out the idea of ​​a Pride Parade. No more quiet and ashamed marches, but a big, public event.

For several months, members of the Proud Community worked on the first Pride Parade. Every day they would meet over the proud bookstore on Christopher Street, recruit donors, send messages. The matter was taken over by Brenda Howard, the "mother of pride," along with other activists. A controversy arose around the slogan, until one of the members suggested incorporating the word "pride."

Only in the 1990s did the proud community in Israel gain confidence in coming out of the closet again. Small events took place during those years, but only in 1998 will the first Hebrew parade take place. This will happen shortly after Dana International wins the Eurovision Song Contest and takes an entire community out of the closet. Carried on the feathers of Jean Paul Gaultier, thousands of LGBT people will march on Ibn Gvirol Street in Tel Aviv, in what will be perceived over the years as the Israeli "Stonewall riots." An episode full of pride.


After a year of respite because of the corona, crowds celebrated at the 21st Tel Aviv Parade to mark the proud community’s struggle for social acceptance.

The Proud Community's Big Party: More than 100,000 people attended the city's 21st Pride Parade at noon, Six giant colored trucks led the parade participants.

And for me, all that is left is to aim the camera and flash and capture the moment.


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Shimi Cohen FIELD REPORTER
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Saturday 06.26.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

“It's only about living” by Pacho Coulchinsky

"To our dear friend Alan Roseman, a great guy and mate who loved to travel and continues to do so"

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It’s only about living

by Pacho Coulchinsky

 

They say that traveling, the heart gets stronger

because walking new ways, makes you forget the previous,

I hope this happens soon

so my sorrow can get a rest

until the next time”.

Travel ... escape ... try new paths, although in pandemic times this is almost impossible, we always invent something and in my case, I must thank my work that from time to time allows me to escape. And in that last getaway unexpected things happened, as fortunately always happens and its surprise us ... we go out on the road with an irrepressible voracity, eager for the pics we will take and sometimes forget the essential: the essential empathy to get in tune with the places and their people.

On this occasion, my course took me to the Northwest of my country, at the foot of the Andes, a magical place, so different from the one I live where the Plain is the leitmotif that colours our passing. There it is the omnipresence of the hard mountain that places us in the place from which we should never have left: humility.

“And so you find a wounded pigeon

that tells its poetry

of having loved and broken another illusion.

Surely in a while it will be flying

inventing another hope

to live again.

Surely in a while it will be flying

inventing another hope

to live again.

... and there are many wounded pigeons (or not) that we find ... if we are willing.”

It's Sunday, a huge and empty fruit market welcomes me, but as I walk through those aisles that will be invaded by thousands of buyers on Monday, I am finding the loneliness of silent men, who seem not to want to break the spirit of a Sunday foreign to them ...

… A singer and poet at the top of an old railway viaduct filling the hills with music who tells me about his sadness at not being able to go on stage with his music and poetry because of “this bug that came from far away”, a man from to speak simple but deep that leaves the love of his landmark in my heart, the land where we can still walk through those ruins built by the Incas.

… Adobe houses that blend into the mountains and seem abandoned but the goats locked in a corral deny it to me…

... A child who has to suddenly become a man to take care of his blind grandfather, the crops and the animals on his little farm because his mother has to go out to work almost the entire day ...

... A famous goldsmith who suffers from Parkinson's disease is taking him further and further away from his passion ...

… The rural teachers who are seen so frequently on the roads of my country, hitchhiking to travel to their schools, so far from the places they inhabit… self-sacrificing to the point of heroism.

 “I think nobody can give an answer,

nor tell what door to knock

I think that in spite of so much melancholy

so much pain and wound

it's only about living.

 In my calendar there's an empty date

is the one of the day you said, that you had to go,

You must walk through new ways

so your sorrow can get a rest

until the next time.

Surely in a while you will be loving

inventing another hope

to live again.”

 “It's only about living”

Author of the Poem: Lito Nebbia (1979)

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Pacho Coulchinsky
 
Pacho Coulchinsky
Monday 05.31.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Holi, the festival of colours by Deepbrata Dutta

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Holi

by Deepbrata Dutta

Holi, the festival to cherish, the festival of colours, the festival that marks the beginning of spring and most importantly that marks brotherhood among all. Holi, the festival celebrates the eternal and divine love of Radha and Krishna signifying the triumph of good over evil.

India is a country of diversity where every festival is celebrated with utmost enthusiasm and when it comes to Holi Kolkata definitely knows how to rock the floor with those amazing colours. Where on earth would you find anymore grace than in the streets of Kolkata. From retro to the gen Z Kolkata and its people are always there to fill you with colours.

Talking about that, did you know before the Holi actually arrives each year, the madness and the craze is all around. The best part of which is when a vintage Rolls Royce begins the procession in style from a temple in Howrah and crosses the entire Howrah Bridge. It enters the streets of Calcutta through the congested lanes of Burrabazar marking the beginning of the show and stunning the Howrah Bridge still with people head over heels for the love of colours. Here around a few 100 people start the procession and it doubles no sooner than it crosses another lane bulking up its journey. Almost a hand full of 2500+ people eventually joins the procession around a stretch of 10 km making the event a grand success. On this Holi I've seen Kolkata rejoice the colour of nature, purifying every soul with love and colours.

Come together lets celebrate the festival of colours with Kolkata and some more sweetness.

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Deepbrata Dutta
 
 
 
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Tuesday 03.30.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

The prohibition of chametz by Shimi Cohen

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Passover

by Shimi Cohen

The prohibition of chametz* is a severe prohibition at every moment of the holiday - "not to be seen and not to be found."

Chametz has no lesson or measure, it is forbidden even in 'something', not even in a minimal amount! And it can not be cancelled, even if you mix it in something that is allowed, because a small crumb forbids eating - a huge stew.

What's the 'story' with the chametz that is so forbidden? That not even a crumb is allowed? After all, we eat chametz all year round - and enjoy it!

During the year we saw ourselves as flaws that made life difficult for us, and we would like to 'burn' them, do we have some pride or condescension about the other?

A little anger, a little bitterness and sadness ...

A person who is a little self-deprecating, living a happier and happier life. But, it is difficult for a person to work on his measurements, what will he do?

Let him decide he does.

On the eve of the holiday - a chametz test is performed at home 'Holes and cracks', what is the implication of a chametz test on the human soul?

"And he shall not show you chametz and you shall not show you a lesson in all your limits" - the Torah forbade two types of chametz, chametz and shaur** (Pesachim***, Mah.

According to the rabbis and religion, chametz and shaor symbolize two types of evil instinct:

Chametz - symbolizes pride. Shaur - symbolizes bitterness, which leads to sadness and despair.

These are the two passions that lead the human soul to doom! According to the rabbis and religion. The greatest destruction and devastation there is in human life, comes - from these dimensions!

By and large for me burning is just not eating the carbs I love so much in any type of pastry.

Hag Sameh

Mea Shearim - Jerusalem, March 2021

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*Chametz (also chometz, ḥametz, ḥameṣ, ḥameç and other spellings transliterated from Hebrew: חָמֵץ / חמץ‎; IPA: [χaˈmets]) are foods with leavening agents that are forbidden on the Jewish holiday of Passover. According to halakha, Jews may not own, eat or benefit from chametz during Passover.

**Shaur = Sourdough is a stable culture of lactic acid bacteria and yeast in a mixture of flour and water. Broadly speaking, the yeast produces gas (carbon dioxide) which leavens the dough, and the lactic acid bacteria produce lactic acid, which contributes flavour in the form of sourness.

***Pesachim (Hebrew: פְּסָחִים‎, lit. "Paschal lambs" or "Passovers"), also spelled Pesahim, is the third tractate of Seder Moed ("Order of Festivals") of the Mishnah and of the Talmud. The tractate discusses the topics related to the Jewish holiday of Passover, and the Passover sacrifice, both called "Pesach" in Hebrew.

 
Shimi Cohen
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Friday 03.26.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Prayer of Mothers by Shimi Cohen

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Prayer of Mothers

by Shimi Cohen

For two decades, violence in the Arab sector has been a real problem that requires treatment and solution. In the last year, the situation has reached an unprecedented low.

Attempts to understand the crisis of violence in the sector sometimes seem like a mud battle in which the parties place the responsibility on each other. These argue that the accused depends on the institutional attitude towards Arab society and its long-standing neglect, and these argue that the infrastructure for this lies in the violent culture of the Arab sector and social norms that are difficult to suppress.

Our understanding of the violence in this society should be seen as based on both internal-cultural factors and external-institutional factors.

Internal factors include rooted social norms, a traditional social structure and a culture passed down from generation to generation, while external factors include the attitude of the Israeli government towards Arab society.

In order to deal with the internal-cultural factors, it seems that Arab society is the one that needs to take internal responsibility for itself.

One of the most powerful tools for eradicating violence is social pressure. Social illegitimacy for acts of violence and condemnation of criminals are not norms that change in the blink of an eye, and these are processes that Arab society must go through and promote. Possession of weapons should become unacceptable, and its use, even in happy circumstances such as weddings, should be banned by community leaders. The Arab leadership must work for the establishment of new social norms and impose severe sanctions on those who do not adhere to them. The same is true of cases of domestic violence and murder of women that local authorities have in the past turned a blind eye to.

This is a slow and painful process that Arab society must go through with itself.

As much as a social process concerning the change of traditional social norms ultimately also this process can and should take place from the bottom up in the way in which society itself seeks to change its way of life.

Such a step, although seemingly simple and understandable, can take several years and the ability to influence it from the outside is quite limited.

For years there has not been a sharp and clear voice of protest against the widespread use of weapons in the Arab sector, against domestic violence and the ease with which a minor conflict turns into a bloody quarrel. In recent months, when the wave of violence seemed to be rising again, citizens themselves have begun to get involved and demand the protection of their security.

Last Friday, immediately after the end of the prayer, thousands blocked Road 65.

This is what was seen through my lens.


March 2021, Umm al-Fahm

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Shimi Cohen
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Saturday 03.13.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Tokyo Desu by Gerri McLaughlin

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Tokyo Desu

by Gerri McLaughlin

After seven years of coming and going and deepening my connection to Tokyo I finally achieved my dream of moving here to live, albeit in the middle of a global pandemic! My journey into Street Photography started here and so it continues only now as a resident. This series reflects how I see Tokyo and it's peoples before and now during the time of Covid 19...

May We All Return To Abnormal Soon!

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It's been a year since we first heard of Covid and I was in Tokyo when it started, I returned to Europe right at the beginning of it and have been in lockdown of one form or another since then. I see there is a noticeable difference in atmosphere on the streets since I moved. Certainly fewer people and an unspoken awareness of the virus permeates the air. Masks, hand sanitisers, paranoia & temperature tests are de rigeur almost everywhere but I also see that people are tired, Covid fatigue is also observable, less precaution, less social distancing and a sad longing to be back where we were with just our everyday challenges to contend with.

So at the moment I am shooting less but I am fortunate that I had taken so many photos in Tokyo over the years, the upside of the pandemic( I have to find an upside! ) is getting time to trawl the archive and find some hidden gems, shoot first worry about editing later I say ….

In Tokyo I shoot from the point of view of an outsider and although I live here now and as yet am not part of my local community, big city life doesn't always lend itself to that! That's been a developing theme in my photography being on the outside looking in as I left "home" in 1989. I've since come to believe that "home" is not a place as such for me but more of a feeling inside where I am at peace with me rather than the rest of the world.

I hope that these different series of shots will give the viewer a small and some intimate look at the city and the people as I see them, it's easy to feel comfortable in Tokyo, it's a relaxed place considering its size and population, my aim is as ever to capture the beautiful ordinary of people doing people things…

"Children pick flowers, Let them. Though having no further use for them in hand they have no further use for them but leave them crumpled at the curb's edge." William Carlos Williams.


Children still play and indeed ice cream will be eaten…

 
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Ichikawa

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Tokyo

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Chiba

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children

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Gerri McLaughlin

"Street Photography for me is a natural expression of my love of people and their cities, tiny fragments of their life stories captured in one fleeting instant, the vibrance and emotion of the street, it lifts me up and drags me down and shakes my emotions all around, no other type of photography holds my attention like street."

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Wednesday 02.24.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

by Shimi Cohen

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Tearing nature into shape, as it takes revenge

by Shimi Cohen

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The plight of the Dead Sea is scary, like a horror movie.

Our salty wonder child is drying up and becoming extinct under the auspices of indifference, fluttering on the bottom with exposed nerves, and in return pulling out predatory sinkholes.

The sea once proudly proclaimed, with it’s black mud and selfies, sat in the lowest place in the world, is a scorching testimony to how low this country can sink. 

Then came two kibbutzniks who decided to resurrect this image, our great sea.

Modestly but with a brilliant idea, a spectacular project rises on Kalia Beach in the north of the Dead Sea that attracts leading street artists from Israel and the world - Gallery Minus 430. The artists gathered and created a living art space in front of the dying beaches. The result is captivating.

The urban desolation of what was once a Jordanian army camp has become a complex of spectacular giant paintings with strong messages, all on a full-time volunteer basis.

If it’s indifference you want, look elsewhere.

This is a special project called ‘Gallery Minus 430’ . The name derives from the lake’s height ‘above’ sea level.

The project was created to raise awareness of the dismal state of the Dead Sea area as we know it. This sea is slowly dying, shrinking all the time. The beaches are far from ideal but the artwork aims to add more colour to the area, currently dominated by the desert yellow and the Judean blue of this inland sea.

There is also another goal, to raise the issue of coexistence between Israelis and Palestinians living in neighbouring Jericho.

This is a special project of 30 artists from around the country and from around the world. But not many know that this is a volunteer project and none of the painters receive any financial reward.

The buildings that were formerly used by the Jordanian army have existed for about 40 years, but only recently with the joint effort of Itai & Maor, a resident of nearby Kibbutz Kalya, PPL studio staff and artists from abroad, who shared the vision was this beautiful exhibition created.

The paintings are of a protest nature and the result is photogenic and spectacular.

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FIELD REPORTER

Shimi Cohen
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Friday 02.19.21
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

The river still belongs to them by Delfim Correlo

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The river still belongs to them

by Delfim Correlo

Doubt. The word was there, written on a small square sticker, attached to the handrail of the D Luís I bridge’s lower deck. I noticed this when I photographed him: he balanced on the iron railing like an experienced juggler, focused, without hesitation, showing experience.

He came near to his friends who were preparing to jump into the river and were already outside; hands and arms intertwined in that X-shaped iron lattice with over 130 years old. In front of them, more than 50 feet down, the river that, shining in the sun, looks like gold. They show no fear. They smile at us while we pass on the bridge, "give me one euro so I can jump into the river" and closing the hand "I hold it here when I jump, I don't lose it". "Give it to me and I'll keep it in my shoe"- said a second boy - "in the end we share". I know it's true because I saw it more than once. They do it in groups of 3 or 4 and, in the end, they get together and count the money they made, before and after the jump.

They are near to the north pillar of the D Luís bridge - a bridge in metallic structure built between the years 1881 and 1888 - in its lower deck, which connects the riverside areas of Porto and Gaia.

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I remembered my son. The youngest would be how old? 12, 13 years? The older ones are between 16 and 18 years old… but they usually jump next to the South pillar. There it is more difficult. The access to the margin forces them to climb a stone escarpment that supports the pillar itself and that gives access to a small square, which is at the level of the bridge deck, and where tourists gather to admire its jumps.

Here, on the north side, when they jump, they will swim to the margin: a stone ramp that, going around the pillar that supports the bridge, goes up to the riverside where some of their family members sell handicrafts, souvenirs from Porto, in makeshift stalls (one table to display the artefacts and a sun patch). The business has never been easy, but this year, with this "covid thing", is getting worse.

They don't jump yet. "Not now. The river still pulls”. And they wait a little longer. They laugh. Three guys and a girl. And suddenly, the first one jumps. He seems to fly. One by one, carefully examining the river they know so well, they jump. They take breaks (“the river still pulls”) and I notice that, after the jump, they don't swim right up to the riverside; they wait down there, for the others, and only when they are all safe they swim to the safety of the stone ramp that goes down to the river.

Along the riverside area of Porto, we see tourists scattered everywhere, some taking a break and enjoying the sun, sitting on the restaurant terraces overlooking the river and the south bank. Being outdoors - whether having lunch or a drink - you don't see many masks, giving this whole picture a strange feeling of fragile normality.

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Several cruise boats, which provide routes on the Douro River, are anchored here and there are already lines of people to buy their place. And it is here, next to these anchorages that we see them again: the river's boys. Here the jumps are neither so high nor dangerous; here they don’t receive one euro for doing it. They are just children who live around here, who love their river and like to bathe in it, the strokes are hugs they give to an old friend and the jumps into the water are repeated dives… their parents did the same once. This is where they learn to swim and get to know their river: "o Douro".

There are stories that are told: the man who, trying to commit suicide, threw himself off the top board, about 200 feet. He was saved by a woman, a saleswoman, used to the river since she was a child who launched herself into the water. Or the young American couple; he decided to imitate the boys he just saw and jumped off the lower deck ... but it was not his river.


Here everyone knows them. We see news in the newspapers and on TV calling them “the boys of the river”, saying they become a “tourist attraction” and, a few years ago, a Spanish director even made a short film about them and with them.

I hear whistles in the distance; the older ones must already be on the south side, over the railing of the bridge. One will be on the small square asking for one euro for the friend who will jump and take a dip ... ”5 euros left”… “3 euros left”… At fifteen / twenty euros he shouts to the guy on the bridge: “You can jump!”. And he jumps, swimming to the cliff and making his way through the rocks to the top. A friend will come to him with a towel and give him a hat for, in a second round, the boy who has just jumped to collect some more money. You can see that he trembles and if we ask him “Why did you do it?” he will probably answer with an honest look “for the money” and, kindly, he will say “Thank you”. Then they will rest against the huge stone wall of the pillar. And they will start again, until the summer ends.

I know the question because I asked it myself too: is this legal? The official answer appears to be "it is not illegal".

There’s a second question: “Is it fair?”.

I leave the river behind, I go into its steep streets, where several restored buildings gave rise to properties for local accommodation, hotels, restaurants… an economic model, post-crisis, based almost entirely on tourism… centrifugation… looking up I see cranes in the sky. They claim their space, they are made of steel too, like the bridge from which they jump.

The jumps from the bridge to Douro. Perhaps it is a statement: the river still belongs to them.

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Monday 08.31.20
Posted by Progressive-Street
 

Ninety-nine red balloons Floating in the summer sky

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Ninety-nine red balloons Floating in the summer sky

by Shimi Cohen

"Ninety-nine red balloons

Floating in the summer sky

Panic bells, it's red alert

There's something here from somewhere else

The war machine springs to life

Opens up one eager eye

Focusing it on the sky

Where ninety-nine red balloons go by"

An incendiary balloon landed in the yard of a house in one of the towns in the Sha'ar HaNegev Regional Council and was extinguished immediately.

There were no injuries.

The balloon launches were renewed last week, after over a month during which only a few incendiary and explosive balloons were reported.

The last round of consistent balloon launches was in June.

Countless incendiary and explosive balloons have been launched by Gaza's terrorists in recent years.

They sometimes have books or toys attached to lure children. Some have sparked large wildfires, mainly damaging crops.

Since May 2018, the State of Israel has been dealing with incendiary balloons inflated by Hamas from the Gaza Strip towards settlements in the Gaza Strip.

In the summer of 2018, Israel responded mainly with non-military measures or limited military operations and low intensity against the phenomenon, due to the limited harm of this terrorism, which did not lead to deaths or significant damage to property. Israel has refrained from escalating and is embroiled in a widespread confrontation with Hamas.

Molotov cocktails are a weapon that is considered primitive, but is new on the modern battlefield. In doing so, Hamas shows initiative and creativity, and uses tools that are accessible wisely. Evidence of Hamas 'tactics' success is the decision by Assad's army to make similar use of incendiary balloons against rebel-held areas in Syria.

The use of incendiary balloons inflated expensive Hamas media capital.

The tool itself - balloons - communicates innocence and children, and is well photographed. In this situation, it is difficult to formulate angry condemnations from the international community and other weighty factors in the world despite the arson.

In the Arab world, the images and videos of the arson distributed indicate the alleged great damage that Hamas is doing to Israel, and gives the organization prestige as a player that manages to stand with Israel for a long time.

As I stepped into the fire to take photos, I ignored the heat and the destruction.

When it's all over I thought to myself, it's just an innocent balloon …

And NANA's song started playing in my head.

A song that even talked about hope and not about war: the 99 balloons represent the many dreams that each person had. At the end of the song, she just wants to prove that the German people did have dreams by finding one balloon - she finds one balloon, a dream, and lets it go.

 

No more wars

No more bloodbath

 Peace

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Shimi Cohen
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Saturday 08.15.20
Posted by Progressive-Street
 
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