My visit to Tlacolula made me think a lot about the type of traveler I am.
Now that I have a fancy camera, I bring it everywhere, so I can take pictures to show all of you people. (And to show my parents and friends.) But really, why is it so important for me to take pictures where I’m traveling? Is taking pictures ever exploitative, even when I don’t mean it to be?
The Tlacolula Market, held Sundays in the town of Tlacolula outside Oaxaca, has some interesting prepared foods and produce. But the people-watching is what makes Tlacolula an experience. Dozens of Zapotec women in colorful headscarfs and ribbon-wrapped braids walk around chattering in their language, selling bowlfuls of tejate, bunches of garlic with the stems still attached. They also buy and sell live turkeys.
I’d never seen anything like this before.
I desperately wanted to take portraits of these women, but I couldn’t work up the guts to ask. (The photos above were shot secretly.) Instead I took pictures of food. About half the vendors I dealt with seemed upset even by that. One woman called out to me — “Señora!” — after I took a picture of her roasted chicken from across the aisle. When I told her I couldn’t buy a chicken, she grumbled. So I offered to erase the photo.
At another stand, I bought a kilo of criollo corn. The man selling it gave me a curt nod and didn’t look at me when I asked if I could take a picture of it.
Crayton asked me: Why are you so upset? They’re vendors who make their livelihood off of selling food, and they’re annoyed with tourists who don’t buy anything.
“But I am buying stuff!” I fumed at him.
Except… not a metate. Seeing a line of them painted with flowers made my heart flutter, so much that I wanted a photo. I asked the vendor politely and she nodded and looked a bit annoyed. I wanted to give her something, but handing over 20 pesos seemed rude. I’m not sure she would’ve taken it.
What it came down to was, yes, I had a camera, but I didn’t like being treated like a rude tourist. Was I acting like one, just because I had a camera? Should I have not taken any pictures at all? I cared deeply about Mexican food and culture, and to arrive at Tlacolula and be treated like an outsider stung. But obviously I was an outsider. I didn’t speak Zapotec and I didn’t live in Tlacolula, and these people weren’t making a dime from me. To just tromp in and expect them to cater to me didn’t seem respectful either.
A handful of the vendors I spoke to were really nice. The woman who sold me dried beans and tamala squash seeds said I couldn’t Tlacolula without trying higaditos, which were a kind of egg guisado made with shredded chicken and tomatoes.
It didn’t have any liver, contrary to the name. Crayton and I shared a bowlful at a little fonda called “Juanita,” inside the big market building. We also split a chocolate atole, which was nothing like the thick, overly sweet champurrados of Mexico City. This one was fluffy and light, full of pieces of corn.
Higaditos literally means "little livers," but this dish is made with eggs. It's typical of Tlacolula.
A beautiful, foam-topped chocolate atole
We also tried tejate, which is a pre-hispanic drink made from cacao, corn, and ground mamey seed called pixtle. It was viscous and not very sweet, which I liked. I also liked drinking it out of a jícara, a traditional bowl made from a squash gourd.
Tejate at the Tlacolula market
A few days after my visit to Tlacolula, I visited the market in Teotitlan del Valle, another tiny town outside Oaxaca City. This time my guide was Zapotec — a fabulous local cook named Reina Mendoza. The difference was noticeable: every vendor smiled at me, and one woman laughed when I said “thank-you” in Zapotec. (Reina told me how.)
So my question for you is: What’s the answer here? Is it a matter of not bringing the camera at all, and not writing this blog post out of respect for the people who sell their food and don’t get paid directly by Internet attention? In a perfect world, I could’ve hired a Zapotec guide to take me around Tlacolula. Or paid some type of photo fee to take pictures. But neither of those things were options.
What would you have done?
Auto-rickshaws were a popular mode of transport around the market.
This post resonates with me as I can relate so strongly. I write about food and travel as well (and I live in Mexico!) and this dilemma of whether or not to photograph has plagued me through the length of Afghanistan, the Markets of Kenya, the rural areas of Mexico…and I still don’t have an answer. So…the end result is that most of my very best photos, at least of people, exist only in my head. But they still make me smile to remember. Nice, heartfelt post.
Hi Victoria: I love the sentiment about the best photos existing only in your head. I’m going to remember that next time I’m traveling somewhere. Thanks for commenting.
i wonder what the people do who work for national geographic to get their photos? perhaps the people in the market are annoyed in general of tourists and think you might be taking photos to steal their ideas? they could have been burned before by something like this. i’m shy too about asking people to take their photos. i went to our local fiesta the other day (doesn’t compare one bit to the beauty and original of mexico) and some women were peeling and chopping nopales for nopalitos. i wanted to take their picture (i always have my little point and shoot with me) to post on my blog but felt funny asking because they would probably think i’m weird – some people are also superstitious about having their photos taken, especially by strangers now knowing how they will be used
Gajes del oficio – in other words these things come with the territory i guess of photography/journalism, etc.
Good post and i love the photos – keep them coming
Thanks Aurora. I think the professionals fine-tune their technique over the course of years. When I worked in newspapers I was always amazed at how the shooters got their subjects to become comfortable with the camera — it was an art, almost. They never got mad if the person said no. They were always very respectful. (Which is I guess not exactly how I acted in this case.)
The nopal scene at Fiesta sounded neat… I probably would’ve felt the same way you did, but there’s something to be said for just recording the moment in your head and walking on. It’s so hard to think that way anymore, because we’ve all got blogs and Facebook pages and Twitter feeds.
Lesley-
Years ago, I worked as a photojournalist doing stringer work for the Associated Press and the Honolulu Advertiser and getting “the shot” was always a challenge. To my mind, it really is a balance of respect, empathy and skill. Sometimes you have to resort to more, shall we say: “surreptitious” means of getting the shot, but in most cases, the best shots (and sometimes easiest) were by first taking the time to get to know the subjects.
I liken it to this: let’s say you’re sitting outside of your house wearing a brilliant dress and some passerby starts taking photos of your dress from across the street. You’re going to feel weird or maybe even violated. It would be nicer if that admirer came over, said hello, complimented your dress and then asked if he could snap a couple of photos. Much more flattering that way.
In many ways, this seems to be the best approach. True, there’s a lot to be said about the constant flow of tourists in those areas and vendors who are just tired of getting their photos taken without any sort of compensation. Not that they necessarily need money for their photo, but a better living through their goods always helps.
I look at the photo of the woman holding the turkey and think “that’s interesting” – but then I also wonder how interesting a portrait you might have been able to capture had you been able to engage the woman, learn a little about her and then ask for her photograph.
It is difficult to approach strangers and ask to take their picture. You never know how they will react, but sometimes you take a gem because of it.
Thanks Jay. I think you’re right-on. With the Tlacolula ladies, I was too scared to approach them because I wasn’t sure they’d understand me. And what do I say? “I love your face” seemed a little odd. It’s funny because as a newspaper reporter I had no qualms (and still don’t) with walking up to strangers to interview them. But with the camera, it just seems… more personal. Like I’m baring more of my soul in a way. But I think you’re right that if I’m not going to engage them, I should just keep the camera in my purse.
Ciao Leslie- I met you at ruth’s I think.
As you know I take people on market tours in Italy, it is the same here. When people tour with me, we are visiting my vendors, in a market where I have shopped for 20 years- I do the asking for the foto op’s and my clients get some really great shots. When I am travelling I try to visit a market with a local for the same reason. My Italian husband hates when I take foto’s of people without asking.
I do not take foto’s when the person says no.But I sometimes sneak a foto. It is a hard call, but all about respect!
Hi Judy: Yep, we did meet at Ruth’s. Thanks for sharing your experience. You’re right that being a loyal customer is really helpful in this situation. I guess I’ll just have to live in Mexico for another 20 years. 🙂
Hi Lesley, thank you for your honest sentiment and expression of conflict. I think it is the age old dilemma of the sociologist/anthropologist: we will always be outsiders. My photo taking and advise to travelers is a combination of: 1.) take a photo of a nice “setting” and if someone walks “into” your setting, snap–I know it sounds sneaky, but I sometimes do this; 2.) I often will spend a fair amount of time chatting with a vendor, family, artisan in an organic way (my objective is not to take a picture), but after our nice conversation, I ask if they mind if I take their picture. I usually find that they are open to this and sometimes even appreciative that I am interested; 3.) ask, ask ask I have found that the replies are as varied as human nature: some are happy and others are hostile. The traditional reason people did not want their picture taken had to do with a piece of their soul being taken out and maybe there is still some of this, but the present day sentiment has more to do with the sense that it is not reciprocal and we are “benefiting”–from a photo, with no gain to them; 4.) If I take pictures of people overtly, I show them the shots in the LCD screen and we agree on the ones we like, “que bonito sonrisa” and we might delete those we don’t, so they are participating in the process. I often ask them to smile for a photo, so they feel more comfortable and are less intimidated. Not sure if any of this helps. If you go to Chiapas, be careful there–(Chamula and other Highland Maya Communities)
–you could end up in the slammer. Quidado.
Hi Stephanie: I think the key is the organic conversation — when I was at the market, the nicest vendor was a lady whom I was chatting with about her beans and seeds. Not because I wanted to take a picture, but because I was truly interested in where the beans came from and what their names were. Thanks for the tip on Chiapas. I’ll be sure to leave my camera in my purse unless we’re at the archeological sites.
This is very interesting!!! I guess I never even considered how they feel (shame on me). I automatically assumed people would be more than happy to have their photos taken. But now I can understand that they are just trying to make a living and are annoyed with “tourists”. I like Jay’s advice and will be sure to use that approach next time we visit Mexico 😉
Great post, Lesley, I struggle with that question every time. And it’s true, in Southern Mexico you could get killed for snapping a photo.
In Michoacan the Purépacha could smell or hear a shutter open from a half mile away. They could turn their faces away at the very last second!
In Guatemala last year, I was afraid of getting beaten up and almost never was able to get a good shot.
I can respect the thing about us getting something for nothing at their expense, or the ‘stealing their soul’ philosophy and I try to buy a little of something from them before asking for a photo. Doesn’t always work tho.
And, if you ask them then you get the posed picture.
I think the answer might be to have a VERY long lens and stakeout your victims. 😉
MT: If only I had a few hundred dollars for a telephoto lens sitting around! 🙂 Seriously though, I think I just won’t take the photos next time. The images of people’s faces will stay in my head.
It must come from being a brash former New Yorker (now mexicana), but I plunge into markets and do my best not to be noticed as I wield my camera. If someone sees me and shakes her head, I smile sheepishly and move on. I find that in Mexico, if you ask permission to take someone’s photo, either they say no or they want money. The answer to this conundrum, in my experience, is to go to Cuba, where people ask to have their picture taken. BTW, my album of the Tlacolula market (my favorite) is at http://picasaweb.google.com/lilander/TlacolulaOaxacaSundayMarket2009#, and my album of the market at Teotitlán del Valle is at http://picasaweb.google.com/lilander/TeotitlanDelValleOaxaca#.
Hi Luisa: Funny, we were actually deciding between Oaxaca and Cuba when we were planning our trip. On asking for photos, most people I’ve asked in Mexico City don’t mind at all, although I try to buy something from them if they’re market vendors. Thanks for sharing your photos.
I have similar dilemmas. I see popular food/travel blogs with amazing photos of markets and vendors and I wonder how they get their shots without being invasive. Obviously, it helps if you have the time to build relationships and can speak the local language. I also think it’s a matter of personality. Some time ago I was on a trip in Asia and met up with people I’d met online to tour hawker centers (they all lived in the city) and one of them, who makes a living as a travel photographer and is very good at it, was just more aggressive than I would ever be comfortable with. But that says more about me because I’m not outgoing with strangers and don’t like taking photos of people (the food I eat is a different matter) anywhere, including the US. When I was in Oaxaca last year, I visited two different markets with two different cooking classes and was weirded out by how snap-happy everyone was. Now, everyone from the college kids to the retirees has fancy SLRs and videocameras and they were turning the visit into a spectacle. Then again, this was a tour setting where the vendors knew the people leading the groups and I’m sure they were accustomed to it (everyone was told to ask permission first). When I visited markets by myself I tried to refrain from taking photos that seemed intrusive, but I had to make an exception when I saw similar Zapotec women selling turkeys—because it happened to be Thanksgiving and I was feeling mildly homesick. I asked, and they seemed ok with it. I wasn’t trying to make art—the photo certainly would’ve been better if I’d engaged the women—I just wanted to capture the novelty of seeing live turkeys in Mexico on an American holiday.
Hi Krista: Thanks for sharing your experience. I think you nailed it with the snap-happy comment. Unfortunately I think I’ve turned into one of those people, and I’m missing out on the real experience happening in front of my eyes.
Great post. I’ve had the same experience in Mexican markets even when I did have a local guide. I think the burn out you describe is universal and can be only ascribed to an us vs them mentality that perhaps they adopt to negotiate the vast economic differences between tourists and locals.
I would have felt out the situation/person and if there were no way around it being uncomfortable, moved on to a more “open” vendor. I also think that explaining your love of food, culture, etc can go a long way to assuage any hard feelings.
Great photos, regardless of the difficulty:)
Thanks Christi!
Very interesting post, Lesley. I never take photos, really anywhere when I travel. When I was young, the family I lived with ran an AIDS clinic in Haiti. We spent lots of time there, and I watched aid workers or college kids on mission trips take photos of everyone, their kids, their homes, their pets. It seemed so “wow look at this shack where they live, or this kid in tattered clothes, or how skinny the dog is!” And it hurt my heart, it seemed like the Haitians were almost treated like novelty acts, or animals in a zoo. But they were real people, who we knew and cared about, and that was how their lives were. I feel like I see different variations on this theme anywhere touristy I have been. It has always left a bad taste in my mouth for taking pictures, of people/their homes, etc. (I do take pictures of things, ie sunset at the beach, Macchu Picchu, my friends by the devil’s gate in Mazatlan)
Please don’t think that I am at all insinuating that that is your mentality. I think you are very respectful and conscientious. This is just the experiences that have informed my choices about how I travel. We are guests in their space, in their actual lives.
Sometimes it makes me sad when I really really want someone to see a bit of what I experienced, or what I loved about a place. But I think it has made me a better storyteller, or describer of things, and its almost like a skill we have lost in communication because we rely very heavily on having image or video to remember or relay our experiences.
Hi Graciela: Thanks for such a thoughtful response. This really resonated with me — I don’t think there was much difference between my secret shots of the women with the turkeys, and the young people who took pictures of Haitan homes. I was absolutely a guest in the Tlacolula women’s space, but I didn’t see it that way because I was obsessed with recording what I was seeing.
I think it’s a beautiful notion that not taking pictures can make you a better storyteller. Going to remember that next time.
Hi Lesley, I’ve thought a lot about this too. Like you, I feel bad when I imagine I am not being conscientious or making folks around me annoyed. Plus, I’ve watched plenty of tourists unabashedly snap photos, completely disregarding their environments, just to get the photo, and the negative reactions they stir up when they do this. I think Jay C. has good insight here (i.e. balance of respect, empathy and skill). And like him, I think the key is to make conversation or compliment and then ask. If you feel weird about it, they will too. So the energetics of “The Ask” has a lot to do with it.
I live in Guanajuato and have been blogging for 4 years. Most of my photos are of places/things, not people, just because it’s so important to me not to offend… although most of the time, I see so many fantastic shots of people. Thanks for asking this question and sharing how you felt.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, Juanita!
Taking surreptitious photos is always so, so tempting. Two years ago in Chiapas I was desperate to photograph some of the people and things I saw in the markets, but when they said no, it was hands off the shutter button and put the camera down.
One of the merchant women in San Cristóbal de las Casas told me, “If you take a picture of me or my goods, who knows where it will travel! Who knows who will see your picture of me and my puesto, or what those people will think of me. Who knows what kind of magic those people will have, what kind of power they will have over me and my soul, and the spirit essence of the vegetables I sell.”
Just the word ‘surreptitious’ is the definition of why I don’t succumb: “Kept secret, especially. because it would not be approved…”. I have a telephoto lens. I could stand waaaaaay over there and take a picture of that indigenous woman in her incredible ropa típica, and she would never know. I could take a photo of that old man’s wise and wrinkled face, and he would never know. But I would know.
I always, always, ALWAYS ask before snapping a shot. If the subject says no, I thank him or her for considering it. Sometimes a vendor will say, “Not of me, but you can take a picture of the radishes (or the chickens, or whatever)”. Sometimes not even that: “No, señora, por favor, nada de fotos.”
People who don’t want their photos taken have reasons: some are spiritual reasons, others are more mundane, but whatever the reason, it’s important to me to respect it. It’s rare that the reason is ‘for the annoyance of tourists’. Frankly, I would respect *myself* less if I secretly took photos of people who didn’t want their photos taken.
Lesley, you and I are journalists and IMHO it’s our responsibility to act responsibly.
Cristina
http://www.mexicocooks.typepad.com
Hi Cristina: Appreciate you sharing your insight here. I was very respectful to the vendors when I asked them for photos, but I think next time I’m just not going to take any, if it doesn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right at Tlacolula.
Hi, Lesley, I write and blog extensively about Oaxaca and the Tlacolula Valley, including Teotitlan de Valle — since 2007. Because I organize educational arts workshops and retreats in Teoti, I have talked with Zapotec people about how they feel about this. The advice I have received and pass along to my participants is to always ask permission. It is the most culturally aware and sensitive way we can be as travelers, whether we live in a country or not. If a person says no, it is up to us to respect that and we have given them the choice. I have written about this issue on my blog, and in my recent workshop on documentary photography during Day of the Dead, we talk about this extensively. This way, we treat people as individuals rather than as objects in a landscape.
Saludos,
Norma Hawthorne
Hi Norma: Thank you for sharing your opinion!
This is a tricky subject many of us deal with as we lug our cameras around Mexico. When visiting markets, I ask if I can take photos of food, and the answer is always yes. The answer is usually yes when I ask if I can take a person’s photo, but this is after I have already exchanged a a few words with them. A contact is established while talking with the vendor about the food, turkeys, etc., and forms a brief bond of friendship that is often returned when a photo is requested.
Kathleen
What would you, an American, do if someone posts an unauthorized picture of you on the Internet?
Yes you are being rude by taking people’s pictures without permission. Yes, you are bothering them. Yes, to them you ARE an outsider.
Please respect other people’s cultures. As fascinating as they might be, you have to RESPECT PRIVACY.
Hi Veronica: It depends on what the picture is, but I probably wouldn’t be happy if someone posted an unauthorized photo of me. I’m not saying I’m perfect here — I was purposely baring my flaws so we could start a (respectful) discussion on what the proper behavior should be. For me that means taking less pictures in the future and just concentrating on being in the moment of the place, and of course it means asking every time I do want to take a photo.
I say take the pictures! Ask permission when you can but in an open, public market there is no expectation of privacy! It goes without saying, I think, that anytime a photographer takes a picture, it’s appropriate to be respectful. This is true whether at family gatherings or public venues. Maybe in Tlacolula some of the vendors are wary about photographers for political or cultural reasons. I think there is a way to be sensitive to this when you approach to take a shot. There’s always the handy telephoto lens…Your photos are great, by the way. GCK
Gilda, you’re the brave contrarian here! 🙂 Thanks for your comment.
Brave contrarian? No, unfortunately, I’m afraid just another culturally insensitive American, who could gain immeasurable value from living in another country, for perhaps three years or so, to gain a little perspective on life and customs and cultures in this wonderful, diverse world, outside of the US.
I hope Gilda (if only Radner!) will open her eyes (and mind) a little wider the next time she travels outside the borders of her precious country.
I don’t see anything wrong with the pictures of the ladies with the turkeys, as they were taken from afar and not right in front of them. Besides, it is common sense that if you had the wrong intentions you wouldn’t be so openly snapping them. So I agree with this comment that there is no privacy to be expected at such a public space.
There was a VERY nasty episode years ago when three police officers were lynched by the people in one of the nastiest areas in Mexico City (Tláhuac). But it was certainly a very different instance, since these guys’ intention were anything but innocent image-snapping (as they were doing their job –police work), so the people they were told to investigate used the nature of their work to turn the inhabitants against them. They were covertly taking the pictures.
I don’t think the women of this market make a point of going online to see if their picture is all over the Internet, but I guess that if they don’t like it they will make a point of letting you know that, and that’s where you will have to draw the line and move over to the next person who won’t mind at all.
Of course, there are also the pictures in which you won’t be able to help people’s faces from appearing on them. I took lots of day of the dead pics in Ciudad Universitaria. In the URLs below, you may see how on a pic that I took with a longer time exposure, a kid’s face manage to make it. AS I’M NOT A PROFESSIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER, and my interest was merely to depict the events of the date and what went on in general, I had no trouble in somehow blurring the facial features of the kid. On the second photo, there was no need to do anything, since the faces of the people on it came out pretty darkened.
http://img196.imageshack.us/img196/9259/diamuertos.jpg
http://img24.imageshack.us/img24/4048/centrop.jpg
Just another two cents. 😀
We’ve been going to Oaxaca for 20 yrs. We were told by the owner of our posada that the vendors at Tlacalula dislike being photographed so we left our camera at the posada. Removing the camera freed us to take in market as it is without parsing it into rectilinear snatches. We stopped bringing cameras to Mexico, or anywhere, for that matter. Personal choice, of course, but our travelling changed, as a result. It’s your profession, and your articles are enhanced by the images. The images are vital. Tough decision. Tlacalula is one of our most treasured spots on earth.
Hi Terry: I wish I would’ve had the same info before I went to Tlacolula. But I think you’re exactly right that there’s a time and place to put the camera down, even if it is my profession. My blog and my articles aren’t the driving purpose of my life, after all — if I don’t get “the shot” and the article isn’t as good as a result, my life is still enriched just because I went there and had the experience.
I live in New Yok and my friend who was visiting wanted to take pictures at one of the “upper class” markets, as I calle them…”snobs” and we were asked to not take pictures…even though we spent a fortune there.
I wish I could purchase one of those beautiful metate’s
Felicidades y Prospero Ano Nuevo!
I really don’t know what the answer is here. This is a good post and a good debate.
I try to think of how I would feel personally. I remember once some Asian tourists were outside my university taking some pictures and then they looked lost so I went over and asked if they needed directions. I helped them and then they asked me if they could take a picture of me and I said sure. So I stood there smiling, feeling a little weird on the steps of my school, while probably 30 asian tourists pulled out their cameras and snapped away. I think even if they hadn’t asked and just started taking pictures, I still would’ve stood their smiling, but I’m laid back like that. I can see how it would bother other people.
When I take pictures of people while traveling, unless they’re really far away, I ask them first if I can take a picture. But I usually get into a conversation with them if possible to try to get a feel for whether or not pulling out my camera would be acceptable. Sometimes they say yes, and sometimes they don’t.
Hi Kyle: When I was in India, Crayton and I were both approached by people who wanted to take pictures of us. I thought it was kind of funny — I didn’t mind at all. And, to be honest, I probably wouldn’t care if someone out there had a surreptitious picture of me shopping at a market or something. To each his own.
I do wonder, though: how do you typically start the conversation, when you’re approaching someone for a photo? Do you start off by complimenting them? I’m always too intimidated to think of the right thing to say.
Lesley, I have had this same conflict. I know it is not polite to take pictures, but it is SO hard to resist, and often I don’t. I try to look like I am taking a picture of something, like a building, off in the distance, but I doubt I am fooling anybody. I have thought, like others in this discussion, “but what if I was just shopping at Kroger and people started taking my picture?” I have to admit that I would feel very uncomfortable. So I have tried to be more courteous, but I know this is not good enough.
I usually take a small photo album with pictures of my family, our home, etc. It comes in handy for practicing my Spanish with strangers, and sometimes it has helped me feel comfortable enough to ask them if I can take their picture. I did this when visiting cemeteries during Day of the Dead. People seemed genuinely curious and interested, and were very willing to let me take pictures. They may have thought it was very odd, but there probably was no non-awkward way to come up to strangers and start a conversation, and this at least was exposing something of myself to them. But I don’t know if it would be helpful with indigenous people in the markets.
Since our travel in Latin America is limited to short vacations, 10 days or so, I am always conscious that the opportunity for getting photos is very limited, and I might not ever be able to come back again. I know that memories should be souvenir enough, without having to take pictures all the time, but I am at an age where my memory needs a lot more jogging than it used to. The act of taking pictures helps to fix those times in my memory, and looking at the pictures afterwards extends the too short vacation. So while I intellectually understand the advice to stop taking pictures and just enjoy the trip, I want to defend those for whom photography adds to the experience.
One of my favorite Mexican sayings is más vale pedir perdón que permiso. If one believes this applies at all, wouldn’t it apply to street photography?
I’m with Lida. And besides, everytime we ever asked some aborigine they wanted some fantastic fee…If we went around dressed-up in medieval garb we’d expect to attract attention.
I have written about responsible tourism photography for Transitions Abroad — http://www.transitionsabroad.com/listings/travel/responsible/articles/oaxaca-mexico-responsible-tourism-photography-and-web2.0.shtml — and have developed a series of tips — http://www.slideshare.net/planeta/responsible-travel-photography
The basis line is to treat others the way the want to be treated. Please only take photos of people in markets who want to have their photos taken. We’ll explore more of this on the ground at the Responsible Tourism Fair in Oaxaca Jan 30 – Feb 5
Hello! Some time lurker, and now I decided to chime in, because I also can relate. First let me congratulate you for such a nice blog. I’m a Mexican (born in Guadalajara but lived in Mexico City almost my whole life), and I like to enter the blogs of English or French speaking people who live in Mexico because I am a translator and writer, and love to come and see how other language people refer to Mexican terms and culture in general, in order to have a better understanding when I’m doing my translations.
I had a similar experience once when I visited Austin tX in ’09. When I have my camera at hand, the people I am with at the moment tell me that I look like a Japanese tourist shooting pics at everything that moves, lol. And when I was on a public transport bus toward the bus station because I was about to return to San Antonio, I was snapping pictures to whatever building I loved, until a lady passenger who was sitting next to me straight-forwardly asked me why I was taking pictures. At the moment I thought that she was just being paranoid that I was some kind of spy or terrorist acting all suspicious. But I guess that she saw my taking pictures like that as something very rude. Sometimes, you cannot be in the good graces of everyone.
I guess the best you can do in the occasion you relate in this post, is “romper el hielo” with the vendor before snapping away. You could tell them something like “Buen@s días/tardes/noches. Soy una reportera que tiene un sitio/blog de internet sobre cultura/comida mexicana y acostumbro acompañar mis artículos con imágenes explicativas. En este momento estoy haciendo un reportaje sobre este mercado. ¿Me permite tomar fotos de sus productos?” (Good day to you. I’m a journalist who has a blog about Mexican culture/food, and I use to complement my articles with images about what I’m writing. I’m currently working on an piece about this market. Would you be so kind to let me take a picture of the products you’re selling?). There will be people who still won’t look happy about it, but this I think is bound to work with the majority. I hope this helps.
Hi Olivia: Welcome to the blog, and thanks for such good advice — I especially like phrase “imágenes explicativas.” I’ll try it next time. Saludos!
I’m glad you think so. Saludos!!
Cristóbal, ouch!
Though I suppose I probably deserved that. I actually really was trying to spark some debate. As I scrolled down the comments that all seemed to agree with one another, I thought it would be good to mix it up a bit. I really do fundamentally believe that we should be aware of political and cultural sensitivities where ever we travel, whether it be across town to a demographic different than our own or to a neighboring country. But I also believe that we have to be careful about making assumptions about people (i.e. that they are vulnerable or can’t speak for themselves) otherwise we run the risk of being paternalistic and condescending.
Thank you for your comment, though. I will try to choose my words more wisely in the future.
P.S. Wondering if you also disagree with David Lida’s comments.
Oaxaca rural ladies took me some time to figure out too, but then I realized their initial harshness comes from 2 things. One is they have no idea what language is going to come out of your mouth (English, German, French?), and the second is that they don’t know what you’re going to be like. For a lot of those women a 40min trip to Oaxaca is scary and a big deal that requires a cousin chaperone, so they just don’t know what they’re in for with you. Speaking to them in Spanish (the younger ones will almost all know Spanish, those over 40 may speak only their dialect and pull over a niece to translate) and being almost comically friendly will make you everyone’s favorite new guera in no time. There’s this awkward pause that happens when you’re nice and smiling where they stare at you…something goes click…and then they’ll ask a bunch of questions like if you have babies. And then you can ask to take photos. Especially if you tell them it’s for a Mexican cooking blog, they’ll adore that. And then they might just take you home for a mezcal. Whole days can be lost that way.
I disagree about Chiapas, at least San Cristobal, if you can deal with Zapotec in Oaxaca, San Cristobal is 100 times more used to tourists!
You are so right Clarissa. My cooking teacher in Queretaro took me to the mkts there each morning to buy ingredients. Making a connection and having a laugh was the key. I remember one indian abuela about my age selling tamales outside the mkt with her daughters. She was a little reticent at having her photo taken and patted her head–then her daughter said, “she’s worried about her hair”. Just a bad hair day! We all laughed.
Follow up: Everybody and their prima has a cell phone camera nowadays, even in those little towns, so I think people are less wary of the idea of photos than the idea of something in their face without explanation.
Very glad to find you. I traveled the length & breadth of Mexico 40 yrs ago and have not a single picture. I really remember the food & the mkts though! In Dec 2010 I returned with camera and we never stopped taking pix. It was wonderful–even went to cooking school in Queretaro. Unfortunately, we both got v sick & disappointingly had to come back to Australia weeks early. But reading all the blogs takes us right back. Your comments & lovely photos mean a lot to me. I get lost browsing in Mexico every day without leaving home. For this I thank you Mija– keep blogging!
Well, speaking as someone who used to shop at Tlacolula market every week for a couple of years when I lived in Oaxaca, I can remember thinking how annoying it was that tourists were always taking photographs and getting in the way. Also speaking as someone who has the exact same experience as you have had when wanting to take my own photos at markets in Morocco, Egypt, etc… I know that its terribly intimidating. It takes a brave brave soul to be a street photographer – especially where food vendors are concerned!
I am so glad that you sneaked in the photos that you did, because it stirred my heart and reminded me of the best times of my life, living in Oaxaca. Thank you!
You’re welcome — I’m glad you enjoyed the post. Thanks for sharing your perspective as someone who lived there. I’m still thinking about Tlacolula and the metate that I want to buy someday…
hi i am from this town and i think you should leave your camera and not every one speak zapoteco and if they do they also speak spanish and if you one day go back just enjoy the moment thier are more pretty places
Please ask the next time. These aren’t zoo animals. These are people. I’m very uncomfortable with the posting of such pictures taken surreptitiously. I was at this market years ago, and I got excited when I saw the first photo. But knowing how and why they were taken leaves me with no desire for repeat viewing, despite my powerful longing to revisit my time in that place. With all due respect, I don’t see how one can claim a deep appreciation and love for the culture and miss such a basic aspect of respectful behavior towards the people.
Hi Sarah: Thank you for your comment. The point of this post was to stimulate a discussion; it seems like there aren’t really straight answers on either side. All of the photography workshops that I’ve taken (given by professionals) taught that it is perfectly acceptable to take pictures of people *without* asking permission — you just take it as quickly as you can and hope for the best. I will say that since I posted this more than two years ago, I no longer take pictures of people at markets unless I have their permission, and I no longer take pictures of food unless I’ve bought something. As for you questioning my love of the culture, I’m human and I’m not perfect. I opened myself up to being vulnerable here.
I realize I’m commenting on a six year old post, but the subject really grabbed me – both the market itself and the ethics of photography.
The first time I visited Mexico was 3 years ago on my honeymoon. We stayed in Oaxaca (the city) for 2 weeks and went and checked out this market one Sunday – my God what a mind-boggling scene. So many things I hadn’t seen before, and haven’t seen in other parts of Mexico – tejate, tepache with chopped onion floating on top, fresh yellow chiles chilhuacles and some (kind of awful) mezcal-based homemade liqueurs, just to name a few things.
It didn’t occur to me to snap a photo at any point, to be honest. I was too busy taking it all in. But my Wife snapped off a few shots, so surreptitiously that even I didn’t notice – if I had I probably would have tried to stop her, but at the same time I treasure those pictures. One of a woman selling turkeys much like the second one in this post, and another of a woman with an adorable young goat for sale. My favorite, a picture of a family running their little chicharroneria – Mama pouting furiously for the camera, Papa and their little boy both grinning like maniacs. A few more, mostly of the barbacoa we had for lunch and not featuring people. But the ones that do? I still feel shitty about not asking, even though the people in the pictures seem to be having fun.
As an aside later that day we were up by San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya and pulled our car over so that a funeral procession could pass. It was as if the whole town had turned out – which was probably the case – literally hundreds of people making their way down the road in drizzling rain, accompanied by a brass band. I found it very moving and really wished I could have documented it . Our guide encouraged us to do so and assured us that nobody would mind too much if we snapped a few pictures or shot some video, but I didn’t dare. At any rate, I won’t forget it.