I am the stranger, unable to decipher my relationship to this city.
Why are you going to a camel track? That’s banal.
Capture the South Asian community prostrated in Friday prayers.
My community’s market is on X street. I’ll come with you!
I went to all these places, promising everyone I met to maintain their anonymity. The majority preferred that.
“Our dhow is here for the next two weeks, can I get the photos.” Murad Rashid, 70, a dhow engineer from Makran. I’ve met Murad in July 2019, when I was shooting a story, for a local newspaper, on the collapse of the Iranian rial, and on the June Gulf of Oman incident.
“Come in and see the owl. We also acquired an eagle!” invited Hafiz, from Pakistan, who embalms birds in a falconry shop in Nad Al Sheba. The owl and eagle were alive, available for purchase. I asked if I may visit again to see the embalming room and the process.
“He’ll bite! He’s still young.”, the young boys warned when I asked if I may pet their months-old falcon.
On the camel race track, a plover bird knocked intently on my car window, flying away and then flying back to side mirror and knocking again. This act repeated itself a few times.
I realize that in this series, the faces and city’s features are abstracted. What memory is preserved? I don’t know how to answer that yet. All of the shoot days and their encounters were kind to me. I hope, on my walks, I was kind to them.