Yesterday for our photo outing we decided to take the teenagers out to a park so they could take some 'nature' pictures and capture a little bit of green versus the white dusty streets that usually serves as the setting for their photographs. After dodging a few rickshaws and being followed by a stray dog or two we entered the gates of Ravidas Park-Varanasi's own small green oasis. Just by stepping inside the gates you could feel the atmosphere change. Instead of loud honking there was children's laughter filling the air, instead of the stench of dung a soft perfume of flowers was drifting about, and instead of wanting to cough after every inhale the air was crisper and lacked the usual thick fog of small floating dust particles.

On this particular day it seemed many other people also had a similar idea. The park was packed with men, women and children. However not only was it packed, but these people were decked out in their finest clothing. The women's arms were lined with bangles and the men had nice white pressed shirts on and white cotton trousers. Even the children's clothes looked clean and lacked the usual and inevitable dirt, stains and tears.

As the teenagers started taking pictures the people at the park started to become a bit curious. The little kids started following the teenagers and loved posing for their pictures. They kids were amazed and kept trying to point out things that the teenagers might want to use in a photograph.

I find power a camera has amazing. Pictures are so special. They have the ability to capture a memory, a moment, and prove that you were somewhere, at sometime, doing something. When I type this i feel that this concept is rather silly; of course you were somewhere, at sometime, doing something. However when you take a scene and make it a photograph you isolate that moment. Looking back at your own face staring back at you allows for reflection on what otherwise would have been just another passing moment in time. You look at that moment and can think of the smells, realize the way the light fell and notice how your nose crinkles when you smile. I wonder if that is also why the kids in the park like to have their picture taken. Or perhaps they like it for completely different reasons. Perhaps they associate their still reflection with other people who they regularly see in the same medium, such as movie stars and politicians. Having their picture taken might make them feel important and then viewing their picture allows them to think, 'wow i am just like a bollywood star'. Maybe, during that moment, when the camera snaps, or afterwords when they see their great big smiles frozen in time they feel special. It is interesting to think why we hate or like having our picture taken and how age, gender, culture, and aspects of society which might influence this.

So after it became quite apparent that there was a group of five strange teenagers with cameras running around taking photos the older men in the park began to become a little perturbed. One, the leader of the group, marched up to our manager Ashkay, and demanded to know what was going on. After a brief explanation (these kids are learning photography to make postcards) the group demanded money. They said that this was a private event and they said the teenagers could take photos only if we coughed up 300 rupees. Of course Ashkay, a wise old Indian man knew better. He said 'Ok let's make this official, I'll go get a policeman'. Immediately the group backed down and promptly decided the money was no longer necessary. These people were just attempting to scam us and make a quick hundred rupees.

In fact the reason all of these people were gathered at the park this sunny hot afternoon was because the son of one family was going to meet the daughter of another. Yet this was not just any old meeting. The meeting between the two families and individuals had been arranged to see if the boy and girl would be suitable for marriage. Basically if the male decided he liked this particular female then the deal was done. The boy and girl would part, not see another for six months or so when they would then have their next meeting bride and groom. It is so strange for me to think that after this one single meeting the two would then be destined to spend the rest of their lives together. I can barely make sense of this within my own ideas about 'love'.

However maybe if I was in this situation I could indeed fall in love. Putting myself in their position I imagine i would be so nervous for this first meeting. What does he look like!? Is he kind, tall, dark,handsome ? I would be so excited that even when I met the person if I was at all even a little interested I think my emotions, built up anticipation, and that inkling of interest would provide relief and seal the deal. For the next six months my imagination would run wild. By the time I met the person I would have so many expectations and be so excited that at least the first couple of weeks would be magical. I would guess this mental state is probably akin to when I make travel plans. For instance when I know i'm about to take a trip somewhere I look up all the tourist landmarks, I read about the culture, the food, the history and more. I create a fantasy. Once I board the plane I am already completely in love with the place. On arrival it is impossible for me to be disappointed. I am usually so excited to experience this figurative space/place i've created in my head and validate it with the actual physical reality. I love exploring and experiencing the differences. Yet, i find this feeling to be temporary. After a few weeks I grow accustom to the place. I begin to know it well. It becomes routine looses its challenge, appeal, and splendor. Instead it just returns to the status of another banal landscape framing everyday life.

I cannot say what arranged marriage would be like however perhaps because unlike a place a person interacts with you it would last. They could continue to amuse and surprise you with their personality. There is more than just the visual sites and sounds like in a place. Or perhaps like a place the person also becomes usual, like a chore to be done, or a responsibility. The person would be your 'husband to socialize with and provide for' like 'floor to vacuum'. Once you knew their favourite discussion topics, life history, and sleeping position perhaps the 'love' wouldn't last.

However I do not know and probably will never know about arranged marriages. They are complicated subjects and like everything have both good and bad aspects. Yet you never know, maybe by chance I will return home to find my parents have chosen a Hungarian man for me to marry!