Photographer's Note

In the evening he sits by the door. He has a little piece of paper in his hand that he shows to everyone who passes. He asks something. I stop, look at the paper and try to read. I do not understand. I try to explain my inability by miming. "No entiendo españ entiendo," I venture. He keeps repeating the same sentence. "...habla inglés?", I ask, helpless. He keeps repeating, and eagerly gives me the paper once again. I shrug, gesture my inability, smile politely, shake my head, and move on. He keeps calling after me softly and repeating the same words.

I return to the same spot the next day. He is there again. Through the open door I see the inner courtyard surrounded by dark rooms, a few chairs. He asks me the same thing and shows me the paper once again. I point at my impenetrable head and move on. I see a woman approach. He shows her the piece of paper and asks her the same thing. She reads and tells him something in rapid Spanish, smiles, returns the paper and moves on.

I have no clue what he asked for or what her reply was.

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Additional Photos by Animesh Ray (AnimeshRay) Gold Star Critiquer/Silver Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 689 W: 44 N: 846] (9089)
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