Saveur Magazine sent me on assignment late last year for a story they ran in their December 2008 issue. The assignment was a food feature on Iraqi refugees living and practicing their food traditions in Beirut. The situation was pretty intense for a photographer, let alone a western woman operating in a Hezbollah-run neighborhood where journalists, especially foreign ones, were prohibited and detained. My access was limited and quick as we didn’t want to draw too much attention to the Iraqi men, which could have been very dangerous for them.
The few nights I spent photographing these gentlemen were amazing. Photographically it was terrible, no electricity, not able to use flash (draws too much attention through the windows, raising suspicion with watchmen patrolling the neighborhood). But when they lit candles for their evening meal signifying the end of their Ramadan Fast it couldn’t have been better. The orange glow from the candles lit their faces just enough to give it the right amount of detail and emotion and capture the moment There we sat on the floor, cut up garbage bags as our table cloth, feasting on spiced chicken stew with chic peas. As I scooped up every bite with flat bread it all tasted like heaven. It was the best meal and the best table I ate at the entire trip. It was one of those moments I’ll always remember because of what it symbolized. The customs and cultural traditions of these Arab Iraqi men don’t allow me to socialize with them , not as a woman, nor as a journalist/photographer. It was my camera that allowed me access to their world. It was a great reminder of how much food can bring us together and give us something in common if only for a few hours. It’s funny how the most incredible experiences can happen in the hardest of situations.
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