Dusty Wyndow Blog

Photo by Globotreks.com I had never seen it coming, in the middle of my chaotic arrangements prior to moving to UAE, that my few-years-old couchsurfing account would be one of the main factors for making it easier for me to enjoy it out there in the desert. Ras al Khaimah, the place I’m living in, is one of those lazy towns with moderate infrastructure, a few malls here and there, a fraction of the amount of cars/people you’d see in Dubai, and a whole lot of senior westerners and young expats, who thought it’s best to move to such a town, away from the extravaganza of Dubai, its horrible traffic and its insanely high real estate prices. I might be mistaken to assume the whole world knows what couchsurfing is. Here’s a summary, as found on the website’s about section: We envision a world made better by travel and travel made richer by connection. Couchsurfers share their lives with the people they encounter, fostering cultural exchange and mutual respect.  Travel the worl...

It wasn't until I had met Oriol that Wednesday in Gemmayze that I realized I’m finally going to teach photography in a refugee camp, the thing I had been dearly hoping to do, especially that my life was going to take a drastic turn. “Well of course you were accepted”, the words that made that day unforgettable found their way at last from his lips and to my heart. Despite of all that was going on with both my professional and personal life, all had to be put on hold for I was going on an unforgettable one-month trip that will manage to remain deep dug on my heart. Two professional photographers provided training in basic digital photography to 92 children aged between 12 and 16 for a period of seven months.  Among the beneficiaries, 46 are Syrian refugees and 46 from Lebanese host community families. In addition to developing the photography skills of the children, the program engendered in the children an appreciation of art and provided a productive outlet of self-expression thr...

Our first Volunteer, Mr. Michel from Koura. Picture by Rimal Abeed. Being severely brought down by all the notorious stench in the air the last few weeks, the three of us had decided to do something about it. Just as any other activity in Trablos, things had happened so spontaneously and smoothly. Discussions have been taking place for almost a month before that, but never were more serious than the week before, where we managed to borrow a guitar for Rimal to practice with, Moussa would practice his drawing skills, and I would prepare basically everything else in order to have a smooth chillout time for everybody, and offer people something they were craving for, I assume. I wonder to myself sometimes, what have we got in this, all of us? It’s neither Rimal, Moussa or le moi that are getting paid anything for taking that action (something society fiercely teaches you in order to survive), neither are we taking any credit, any promotion, not even appraisal. And the photos & sto...

The Lieutenant “I recognized you from your sneakers” . I wish I remember his name, for he had remained in the back of my mind till this day today. “I remember they were exactly like the ones I saw on that bus the other day. You’re going to Tripoli, right?” That was what one man who had picked me up, over two years ago, while waiting for a mini-bus to take me back home after one long hectic day at work. He pulled over and shouted “Tla3” meaning “hop in”, and to my utter surprise, being shouted at by an army lieutenant behind his driving wheel with his rugged military voice, was enough to obey, well at least until my curiosity was satisfied and I'd figure out what the hell was going on. It wasn't until he threw in those two sentences that I knew what he was talking about. A couple months earlier, it seems, he kind of met me on one of those huge Connexion buses to Tripoli, but – funny enough – he only remembers my white sneakers, the reason why he was more than certain it w...

It is not usually that hard to remember the bits and details of an overwhelmingly happy night. Walkabout Drum Circle and friends gathered the night before at EM Chill pub in Mar Mikhael for yet another outstanding African rhythms performance, and to bid farewell to Tom Harris, therapeutic drumming instructor and veteran Djembe player, who came all the way from Atlanta to share along his deep knowledge. It was the night I was at my happiest. Allow me first to break the common rule of spreading out thank yous at the end (don’t get me wrong, I’ll do it eventually), but it’s just that I really feel so grateful at this moment. Thank you Jade and Walkabout Drum Circle for one unforgettable night. I still am not able to remember a single dull moment, a detail that pissed me off, a thing I didn't feel comfortable about. In fact, my day yesterday was so dreadful I couldn't’t smile all day long, yet, there was the night with the Walkabout. You guys made my week! Alright, time f...

One of the most beautiful pictures I ever seen. The clown mob in Tebbaneh and Jabal Mohsen I wonder how easy it is to make somebody's day. Now that I and some friends had brightened the day of more than 200 children at least, I can simply ask myself what would stop me next from bringing joy to somebody's heart. I and everybody else have heard a handful of "You're the first ones to visit us in Eid", how could that be cold-heartedly overheard anymore? All it took was Mu'taz's message last night, inviting a bunch of local friends for a gathering the next day morning. Point was to visit the two most damaged and violent areas in Tripoli: Jabal Mohsen and Tebbaneh. The resonance of both names in the back of our minds was an alerting sign of a bad thing to happen, only for a split second. But in fact, several got the kick to declare their participation and say "I'm in". Although rumours were spreading around yesterday in town (as they alwa...

It's the night I was able to stand in the Nour Roundabout so freely. It's the night this place was car-free. It's the night a prayer was held at the center of the Roundabout. It's the night hundreds of people felt joy at this place rather than being anxious whether to cross the fire lit there or not. It's the night a bunch of white-hearted Tripolitans took the initiative of throwing the first mass iftar at the center of my home town, Tripoli. The mass iftar viewed from the 15th floor, at the center of Tripoli, Lebanon. It was noon when I first passed by the place and saw couple of my friends there getting all busy preparing for the big event, 6 hours earlier. I arrived there exactly 6:30, the place was already packed. The sight of the roundabout being closed from afar reminded me of the time I had to avoid the burning tires and the raging thugs that have taken it as a habit to come and close the square preventing people from going home and forcing shops to close...

This is the first time I sit cross-legged in the bus, I'm absolutely exhausted as I go back home 7 in the morning, after what I call a once a year event. I can even still feel the weight of the enormous bags I had as we climbed that magnificent mountain, Jabal Moussa. It was yet another unforgettable event with the Night Collective , lovers of the night, with whom I went to a night in Nahr Ibrahim . My group was set to meet at Adma, at around 8:30 to move up to our landing point, where we'd park the cars and start the hike. Due to some mishaps, the appointment was delayed and we had to spend a bit more time on the famous Casino highway. It's been a dream to me to be standing there on the side that overlooks the Jounyeh bay, and simply be taking pictures for a whole night. There it was, right in front of me, but the unbelievable traffic restrained me on the other side, leaving me to car trail photos and some compositions of the moon. Oh, the moon :) the event last night w...

I feel like writing about my first photosession for couples, which happened to be with the lovely couple Wissam and Angie. It felt a bit strange to be invading the privacy of two persons while revealing their cherished moments together. I knew it was the hesitation of the first few minutes, and I knew I had to do something about it. I decided at first to take single shots of each of them, while the other helps me with the setup and lighting. A new kind of connection started to grow between me and my subjects, and confidence is building up instantly. It was necessary to break the ice at certain moments and take photos of both of them, especially when the shot was worth it. A couple of times Wissam was holding the reflector in front of Angie's face, and suddenly something happens that makes a worthy shot at hands: he might laugh at her, she might feel annoyed about his behavior, etc.. These little details were the key to open up, especially when there were some discomfort. Ala...