Almost “disappeared”

I embarked on a photo hunt this afternoon, as I usually like to do in new places. Too embarrassed to take shots of people, I stick with abstracts: sunlight on buildings, shadows, broken pavement, water, etc. I had just shot a string of photos of an ornate fence surrounding a bright yellow building when an armed guard approaches and asks me to follow him back to the security booth. He is smiling a little too much, trying to be overly polite and comforting, which makes me ill at ease. The metal of his gun has worn to a dull patina. He makes a phone call, his voice deep and his sentences curt. Pretending to fumble with my camera, I start to delete any photos that can be interpreted as “spyish”. I then try to show the guard the remaining images, but he brushes the camera aside and makes a sign that either means “wait” or “shove something in my face again and I’ll make knots in your fingers.” About a minute later a disheveled aparachik comes out of the building.”Why are you taking photos of this building?” he asks.

“I wasn’t, I just took some pictures of the fence,” I say.

I hold the camera toward him and point to the display. He shuffles through the photos. For each one, he asks me where I shot it. It doesn’t help that I have been shooting with a huge telephoto lens that just screams “recon”.”This is a special building in Mongolia.”"Oh. I didn’t know. I was just taking photos for my, art.”"Hmm. You will delete the first three,” he tells me, still looking down at the display. I do.

Phew. I think I’m in the clear. I start to pack up my camera.”May I see your passport?”

Shit. Not only did I not have my passport, but I had no other form of i.d. on me. Visions of an empty chair in the middle of a dank room with one light bulb. I tell him that everything is in my hotel room. I manage to dig out a business card, explaining that we are here on a science mission, to help the people of Mongolia. He asks to keep my card. Hey man, take it. Give me a ring next time you’re in the city.”Ok?” I say.”Ok,” he says. “Welcome to Mongolia.”I walked briskly back to the hotel, unable to stop myself from checking behind me at every corner to see if I was being followed. Once back, I checked the map in my LP guide book. I had been taking pictures of the General Intelligence Service building. [see the Mongolia Maps page]

• Photherapy (0)
• Twist (0)