When this little piggy first went to market I was frankly overwhelmed with an amazing new country and continent, fearful of warnings not to flaunt wealth whilst shooting and of dengue disease fears. So when I walked by that first time and peered down into the dark labyrinthian walkways, entrails hanging from hooks, water gullies carrying guts and blood to the street I didn’t go in.
The second time was easier, much easier. I went with a friend. We tip toed around the fish stalls, peering into tin bowls of squid in the sun ray streamed darkness and smiled at traders hanging low in hammocks pointing at jars full of juju medicine and vegetables pulled fresh from the earth that morning.
Today, the third time, alone and my fears were gone. With inquisitiveness and also wanting to understand the rhythms of the local people who work in Kampot I pottered in with the Nikon round my neck. I found myself laughing with goldsmiths smelting gold pellets, bright blue flames lighting the alchemy in the heavy storm willing heat.
Fascinated by the gore and skill of a woman gutting fish on the floor, enchanted by the eyes of the only female beggar I have met in Kampot so far and marvelling at the vivid beauty of the local, so far unidentified, shellfish I took some photographs for you dear blog. Enjoy!
PS. I started with a piggy and it’s possible I am ending with one! The first person who can identify what the below photograph is of can have a bag sent first class post to an address of their choosing …