Say cheese

So on Monday I visited a partner organization of mine who doesn't have a website to take some video footage to load onto our website so that our incoming students can still get a good idea about what is done there. I arrived and after a chit-chat with the director about the weather, the NGO funding crisis and her plans to emigrate with her retired husband to Greece next year, I whipped out my little flip-cam and asked: "Are you ready?"

"No wait!" was the urgent response. "I'm still wearing my apron."

She undid the string around her neck, rumpled the apron into a ball and threw it under her desk. "Ok, ready." she told me. 

I watched a professionally done video of another of my partners earlier today, it was a far-cry from my shakey and sketchy attempts at filmography. But mine, hey, mine is authentic. Just some peeps chatting about the work that they do, covering their faces with their hands at first to accompany the nervous laughter, then building up a confidence and eventually relishing in the opportunity to be immortalized on my sandwich-sized camera. They're going to love my amateur footage. 

Couple of months back, I was wasting time in Lavender Hill with some kids who were insulting my shoes. Apparently my sturdy brown sneakers were ridiculously uncool. "You should buy Nikes," the one ten year old told me.

"Huh, with what money?" I replied. "No man, Nikes are expensive."

"And those were cheap." one of her peers stated disapprovingly. 

"Yes." I replied, and gave her the stink-eye. "And don't be rude!" This is why I'm no kiddie fan. Or at least one of the more compelling reasons why not.

I take out my phone to answer a text and immediately there are shouts to be photographed. I tell the girls that I'm never going to see them again so they'll never see the photos, to which they reply, "we'll see them on your phone."

I acquiesce and start taking a couple of shots, and then a couple more because they all want opportunities to pose in different configurations with different people. One of their hobbit-sized friends walks over to see what's happening. 

"Do you want to be in a photo?" I ask. 

Surprisingly, she shakes her head. "No I don't want to be in a photo today, I wanna get my teeth first."

I stare at her blankly. "What?"

She opens her mouth to show me an empty top row. "I left them at home."

I stop staring blankly. "Fair enough."

"Auntie, auntie!" the girls shout. They've coordinated themselves into a Charlie's Angel style pose. I shake my head and take the shot, and am bombarded by small bodies a half second later, with fingers covered in colourants grabbing my phone. I resist the urge to shove them away. Instead I sigh, hand over my phone and go lean against the pole overlooking the watertank.