Many times I was alerted to the danger of going to one place or another, I was advised to give up my purpose. I was told that I did not persist in my desire to get into such a neighborhood because I could suffer serious consequences. And all this, whenever I was told, was with a good intention. As in the Kasbah of Tangier.
However, life pushes. And, in its particular way, it helps and protects.
When, with the photo of the photographic team on the shoulder, I walk through places that I do not know, I always do it with the confidence that, in those places, people live, there are routines that can be familiar to some extent, things happen.
And in that center my thoughts when I make the decision to go forward with my purpose. Avoiding, as far as possible, to take any unnecessary risk.
In this way, it has been possible to access places, theoretically inaccessible, of which I have a pleasant memory today. And in all of them it was made known to people with whom I could have a conversation about their daily reality. And also take pictures.
In many of those cases, the advance was slow, even very slow. Because hurry normally adds a risk factor of difficult control. Walking slowly allows you to discover the movements of life at a rhythm similar to those of those who live it.
And meetings, comments, questions arise. A small circle of familiarity and mutual understanding is created in which it is easier to interact.
A moment is shared from a look. And the look extends to the environment and, from it, can fly to the surrounding landscape.
To know that there is more. Nothing ends where it seems. That after a moment comes another. And that another more will follow.
In the end: I need something? Do I need guidance? Do I want to stay to see the play of the play in the small youth place? Will I return the next day?
A shopkeeper gives me a piece of cake. A lady invites me to share her lemonade. A student asks me if I speak their language.
A girl, carrying her younger brother from her hand, ran in front of me and, in a jump, both double the corner.
It is the life that walks. And he doesn't stop.
Pepe Navarro
