A LIFE IN PROGRESS
Story and Photos by Eli Lucas
‘ CLICK ’ GO THE MOMENTS
Editor ’ s Note : Ray Lucas , our regular columnist , opted to give way to his son for this month ’ s A Life in Progress column .
A s a photography enthusiast , I love capturing images , but I feel it sometimes separates me from the moment . Recently , I was fortunate enough to travel to Southern Africa with my grandmother and my great aunt . As we journeyed through South Africa , Zambia , Zimbabwe and Botswana , I found myself in a photographer ’ s paradise .
A cheetah 2 feet away , elephants by the dozen , provocative urban photos and rolling landscapes that make Floyds Knobs look like an ant hill .
For weeks , I captured Southern Africa through a lens , taking
hundreds of images until one man from a village
in Zimbabwe challenged me
to use my camera with
stronger purpose .
The afternoon after I had fed elephants in
Victoria Falls , I travelled to the local village , Ko Mpisi . When I stepped off the bus , I was greeted by a man who met me with a smile and a handshake . I smiled right back and pulled my hand away to reach into my camera bag . I asked if I could take a photo of him and he complied .
As I toured his village , he explained that he represented over 1,000 people who lived in the bush and how his way of life was simple and honest . I nodded , smiled and clicked away . I harvested corn with the locals ... click . I watched a man cook a chicken for his family ... click click . I entered a hut to see where his family slept at night ... click , click , click . I felt a hand on the shoulder that my camera strap rested on . It was the village leader , the same man that greeted me when I got off the bus . He approached to tell me that his village hosted people from all around the world and that I should consider returning . He reached for my hand and shook it but didn ’ t let go . He held my hand in his for what felt like minutes , as if we had been friends for decades . He asked me to consider returning to his village to live . The feeling of a stranger ’ s hand in my own as he asked me to adopt his people ’ s culture was overwhelming ; I nodded my head and explained that if I could come up with the funds I would return next summer . He smiled and nodded but didn ’ t let go . His eyes never strayed from mine and his hand never flinched despite the growing heat between our palms . No photo could ’ ve captured what I felt in that intimate moment in the Zimbabwe desert .
110 EXTOL : AUGUST / SEPTEMBER 2018