Mount Fitzroy

New Journal 11 – The Myth of the Muslim

I have always refrained from writing about political topics on my blog. I see no need or cause to talk of themes that can create such anger and disdain that it would contradict the purpose of my work – the love of the diversity found within this world.

Today is different. Today is the day I opened up my facebook page and was hit by a wave of racist, anti-Muslim hatred that cascaded down my computer screen like an infectious disease. Today is the day I read on BBC news that attacks on Muslims have risen to terrifying heights over the weekend. Today is the day that I read about Internet groups organising attacks on Muslims in Britain. Today is the day that I received an email from my Muslim friend asking me how life was and wishing me a safe journey during our travels across South America.

These problems are happening in the wake of the brutal murder of a British soldier on the streets of London. I could barely bring myself to read the article, describing the way in which he was murdered by two Muslim extremists. The hatred I felt at that time, the distress that I experienced was, however, focused solely around this terrible act and directed towards the animals that committed it, not the Muslim community as a whole.

In many respects I lead a privileged life. I’ve lived in and travelled around some extraordinary countries. Last year I had the fortune of living in Indonesia for 6 months, a predominantly Muslim country.

I wish, more than anything else right now, that I could give my wonderful experiences to those people feeling such hatred towards Muslims. I wish that they could see the Muslim world through my eyes, as I know it. I wish they could see the intense generousity we experienced from our Muslim hosts. I wish they could feel the warmth shown to us by the people we encountered who wanted nothing more than friendship.

One warm, sunny evening I was standing on top of a small mountain. A brilliant red sunset was unfolding. 3 new friends, local to Yogyakarta, Indonesia, offered to drive me to this spot. They were keen photographers, too. As the sun set, the Muslim call to prayer danced along the air from an unknown place. While I was taking photos, I turned around to find my three friends praying on mats. I watched as they sang their prayer towards the burning red sun overlooking an incredible landscape of greens and pinks. Even as an Atheist, I was touched by the intimacy and gentleness of their devotion.

We slowly made our way towards a restaurant that night where we talked about life, girls, jobs, photographs – the things people talk about. They refused to let me pay for my meal. I asked the chef, a cool looking character in the open kitchen at the centre of the restaurant, if I could take his picture. He smiled cheekily and said I could take one of him in action. With a serious face he went about his business as I took photos. In a busy restaurant, not one person showed discomfort or negativity at this Bule taking pictures while they were trying to eat. Could we say the same about an English restaurant?

I look forward to seeing those Muslim friends again.

Chef in action

Our time in Indonesia was filled with instances like this – absolute generousity and kindness from the very people that so many Britons are choosing to hate…and it is a choice.

Even in more remote regions where extremist views tend to manifest, we experienced nothing but warmth. In the cool climates of the mountainous region of Dieng at 5:00am, we drove around looking for adventure. We spotted a small village with an unusual mosque at the centre of it. As we entered the village, locals congregated around us to shake our hands and complain about the cold weather, a universal social binder it seems. I was in a tee-shirt and was enjoying the cooler temperature. I told them it was colder in England. They laughed and said ‘No thank you.’ We left to a chorus of waves and ‘Selamat Jalan’ or ‘Safe journey’.

When I think of the anger directed at Muslims, I think of these warm people, I think of my friends in Yogyakarta, I think of the many, many Muslims we’ve met along our path who have shown us more kindness than our neighbours back home have ever shown us.

Those of you who hate, you do so because you are ill-informed and choose not to educate yourself in the truth: that everyone in this world, be they Christians, Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus or Atheists, are all the same, with the same needs and wants. If you don’t believe this, then that is your limitation.

There will always be people that hate – I accept that. The difficulty comes when it begins to separate normal humans, people who have no hatred, people who could be friends, people who will be the path to progress and happiness if the haters would just step aside.

I know that this article won’t change anything. It comes from a place of love and kindness. In this day and age when happy slapping videos go viral and hate speeches populate social media and news sites, words of truth and acceptance don’t have financial value, nor do they interest governments who thrive on national divides.

All I can do as an individual and a photographer, is live a good life that looks beyond false barriers and try to capture the beauty around us as best I can. In the past our only source of information from the outside world was the media. Now, with such wonderful technology at our hands, we can live through the eyes of another. We can see the beauty of the world as they see it. If we’re brave enough, we can dare to gain a new perspective from the eyes of someone we once despised, and slowly discover that we were wrong.

Today’s Photo – Mount Fitzroy

This wonderful spot is located just outside the tiny town of El Chalten. The timing was perfect. We caught the sun moments before it fell behind Fitzroy. Located on the side of the road, I was desperately trying to find an interesting foreground element that would lead us to the amazing peaks beyond. I had to remove a road sign in Photoshop that was too distracting.

Before the Joys of Post-Processing