Kurdish women by Bruno Lavi
The photography experience should be mixed with sensations, touch, emotions, laughter, sometimes sadness and if the place is perfect for photography, then there is also discovery and insight.
I am again on a new photography trip, this time in Eastern Turkey, in a large, Kurdish-populated area. I walk around, mingle, absorb, and photograph the villages of the Kurdish population.
Upon entering the villages, I feel a sense of going back in time. The rural architecture and landscapes look like they are a thousand years old. There is no touch of modern vulgarity. Everything is in perfect balance between the residents dressed according to tradition and the ancestral houses, the narrow alleys and the domestic animals that roam like the owners of the village. Suddenly physical observation is interrupted by culinary smells that hypnotize the palate.
I stumbled upon a house where a beautiful young woman was cooking vegetables on a wood stove with several pots bubbling on it. I didn't want to be impolite by asking for a taste, so I took pictures instead. The camera captured the beautiful colours, smoke, shapes, and traditions of the scene. However, the smell was so hypnotizing that I had to move on my way, regretting that I didn't ask for a taste.
While passing through a yard, a man in a good mood invited me to rest and drink some famous Kurdish tea. I accepted and explored the surroundings of his house. I noticed a room adjacent to the courtyard that had an interesting feature: a deep pit on the floor. I asked the man's wife what the pit was used for, but she didn't answer. Instead, she approached the pit and lit something at the bottom. She then brought the dough to prepare bread, and everything became clear – the pit was for baking, just like it had been for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The smell of fresh bread filled the air, and this time, I didn't hesitate to ask for a taste. The man's wife loaded my hands with some warm bread, and I ate it with a sense of divine gratitude. The woman's motherly look recognized my culinary state, and I was captivated by her baking as she expertly manipulated the dough and bread, with flames illuminating her face.
Continuing my journey, I saw a beautiful girl on a white horse, resembling a princess from a fairytale. I was mesmerized by her strength, elegance, and her curious black eyes that could penetrate any barrier. I picked up my camera and again felt captivated by my photography subjects, taking pictures with intuition, feelings, and instinct. I realized that I was mostly photographing the Kurdish women in their natural environment. There was something about them that drew my camera to them.
The Kurdish women are warriors, feminine, beautiful, hard-working, funny, quick-thinking, and gracious cooks. I remembered an article about Kurdish female fighters who had defeated ISIS terrorists on the battlefield multiple times. The experience of photographing Kurdish women in their natural environment was a testament to their extraordinary spirit. They have a unique and important story to tell, and it is a privilege to meet them, establish a respectful relationship, and learn from them, whether it is through conversation, listening or even through silent photography with deep observation.
