People react differently to cameras in Bangladesh; there’s little worry, barriers, or self-consciousness towards them. They will connect with you wholeheartedly after just a smile. If they do pose there’s a feeling of honesty and openness, a genuine window into that life and moment in time. It’s a photographer’s dream, and the certainly the best place I have ever photographed people.

In the 3 months I was working here I sadly didn’t get much time for photography, but through a collection of snatched moments, each no longer than a minute or two, I was able to create a series of Bangladeshi portraits – a little cross-section of life here.

A crazy mashup of trumpets and keyboards carried through the hot still night into my bedroom. Someone was having a hell of a party nearby. A few minutes later I got an invite – it was a wedding ceremony.

I went with my host sister, Monisha, to the venue – a little network of mud huts with grass and tin roofs. Several hundred people were milling around and there was a dancer and musicians in the middle. It turns out that those intruments were a harmonium and some type of flute.

Monisha took me to see the bride getting ready, in a tiny room with full with bustling people and so little space that I could barely turn around. The bride was sitting on a bed calmly in the eye of the storm. I gestured with my camera for a picture and she smiled subtly.

It was too dark to get a good shot of her with the ambient light, so Monisha shone her phone’s torch onto the bride’s face and without so much as a blink she continued to look straight at me, giving herself to the camera.

The ceremony was difficult to watch. I sat at the very front, just outside of the little temple area where two priests carried out the rituals of a traditional Hindu wedding with the bride and groom. About halfway through the bride cried uncontrollably. It added a different level of meaning to her serenity in the photo I had taken earlier.

We’d taken a little break from work (buying materials for the local entrepreneurs we were supporting) and headed down to the river in the city of Khulna. A man walked down to load things onto a boat and something about him caught my eye.

I stole the first shot. He wasn’t paying any attention to me, despite being within arm’s reach, and it was just too good a moment to miss.

But a few minutes later he came back and asked me to take a photo (by telling one of my Bengali volunteers). Whether he asked because he knew I wanted his photo, or because he simply wanted to have his photo taken I will never know. Either way, in that next minute I got one of my favourite portraits.

Street vendor, Khulna

 

Nearly all my favourite shots came from this little stretch by the riverside. This was nothing more than an opportune moment where the light was perfect and the ship’s worker was relaxing in the evening sun.

This shot was taken out the side of an easy bike (or tuk tuk as they’re known elsewhere) whilst gridlocked in Khulna – a daily occurrence that throws all rules of driving out the window. We’d found ourselves stuck across the two lanes of the road and this motorcyclist was waiting for us to get out of his way.

I love photographing children in Bangladesh. Everything is one big curious game to them. These boys were hanging out by the riverside on this gorgeous evening just as we were.

Above: A little girl and her brother just outside their home. Unlike most children in the area she was too shy to look at the camera.

Below: Having a camera (and I suspect being white) makes you a source of endless entertainment even when you’re not trying to be!

Above: It’s also inevitable that you will attract groups of children as you wander around doing your thing. On a walk to the nearby riverside we befriended some kids who joined in with absolutely everything we were doing.

Below: A boy plays outside his home with a toy gun. When he saw I was photographing him he just stared at me.

Above: During a school talk one of the girls tells the class about her experience of harassment and how she fought against it. As part of our work we gave awareness raising sessions in schools and local villages about various sexual health topics. Below: the girls listen to the discussion further. Second below: boys listen to another awareness raising session

Taking these photos was one of the weirdest experiences of my life. We were getting ready to do an awareness raising session in a local village and were followed by two transgender ladies. We went to the house of someone we knew but they followed us in and refused to leave until we gave them some money. With no sign of going and just us, a mother, her children and her grandmother in a mud hut I was starting to worry about how this was going to end up.

But after finding out I was a photographer their attitude changed somewhat. They wanted me to film their dance, and then they wanted me to photograph them and spread their story of struggle and ostracism across the world. I was happy to oblige, though they were not the type of people you said no to! And what a photo it turned out to be. The woman on the left – and definitely the one who called the shots – is known as Bianca, I didn’t find out the other name.

We still ended up giving them a bit of money, though.