Six years and two months ago I was in Lima, aged 18 and enjoying the tail end of a very good gap year. I posted on my blog (which was called Eloquencias, despite being nothing of the sort) something about a fruit I had bought which resembled, now that I’ve seen more exotic fruit, a passion fruit of epic proportions. However the other day while I was working in Queen Elizabeth National Park I found something which truly was alien. I asked everybody its name and only one old man was able to give me an answer, a string of Runyankole words which nobody could translate. It reminded me of the scene in Lost in Translation when the creative director is giving long instructions to Bill Murray in Japanese, which the translator relays as “He says, more intensity!”.
I am a Uganda-based freelance photographer, and this is a receptacle for whatever I'm toying with at the moment, varying greatly in quality like the goat stew which so often powers it. Personal blog etc.
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