In the Basque land, I am born, back, shooting a documentary on disaffection of people and places. It is about those who don't care about what's happening outside. The main challenge for me is to find someone like that.
I have on my mind the picture of this guy who wears a béret basque, he has a thick accent and barely understands mine. Obviously he's never traveled outside the Basque Country and his cheeks bears red stains of alcohol. He's rather tall. Where is this guy?
I was looking for him, his wife and his kids. I called everyone around me. My family, the friends of the family, the unknown someone who might be able to help. And today, the moutains put him on my way. A miracle, I'm telling you.
But here everything looks like a miracle, you've got to believe.
My "assistant" and I were lost in the deep countryside after a couple of interviews not far from Osses. We were looking for Spain. Around us: those green hills lost in the fog, wet by the rain, wild as a picture that has never been painted. Once in a while a dark roof hardly breaking the harmony. A man, rather tall, was walking his goats out of their sheepfold. He stopped to let the car pass. This man surely knows our way:
- Pardon monsieur, je cherche l'Espagne...
What he answered, I have no idea. I was too busy staring at the size of his nose, the shape his face took when a smile ventured and slowly recognising my hero.
As my driver was ready to take off, I grabbed my chance.
- Excuse me sir, you're a shepherd?
- Well yes, what do I look like?!
- I'm making a reportage on the Basque Country. I think I was looking for you.
When I asked his number, I was both scared and excited by the idea that...
maybe he doesn't even have a phone!
I have on my mind the picture of this guy who wears a béret basque, he has a thick accent and barely understands mine. Obviously he's never traveled outside the Basque Country and his cheeks bears red stains of alcohol. He's rather tall. Where is this guy?
I was looking for him, his wife and his kids. I called everyone around me. My family, the friends of the family, the unknown someone who might be able to help. And today, the moutains put him on my way. A miracle, I'm telling you.
But here everything looks like a miracle, you've got to believe.
My "assistant" and I were lost in the deep countryside after a couple of interviews not far from Osses. We were looking for Spain. Around us: those green hills lost in the fog, wet by the rain, wild as a picture that has never been painted. Once in a while a dark roof hardly breaking the harmony. A man, rather tall, was walking his goats out of their sheepfold. He stopped to let the car pass. This man surely knows our way:
- Pardon monsieur, je cherche l'Espagne...
What he answered, I have no idea. I was too busy staring at the size of his nose, the shape his face took when a smile ventured and slowly recognising my hero.
As my driver was ready to take off, I grabbed my chance.
- Excuse me sir, you're a shepherd?
- Well yes, what do I look like?!
- I'm making a reportage on the Basque Country. I think I was looking for you.
When I asked his number, I was both scared and excited by the idea that...
maybe he doesn't even have a phone!
4 comments:
Superbe photo, Victoria!
Je vois que tu t'es enfin décidée pour ton reportage... Si tu insistes bien, peut-être que Deborah acceptera de te filer £10 pour te rembourser le métro jusque l'aéroport.
En fait la photo n'est pas de moi (honte). J'ai ecrit ce dernier post un peu à l'arrachée...
Pour les 10 pounds, j'ai essayé de lancer des perches, mais point de réactions. La prochaîne fois je grugerai au métro!
ok too much french being spoken in the comments...
Funny post though...
so you found your character...
congrats!!!
Can he speak in english or subtitles??
And if he cant then how do we know that he is saying what your are telling hew is saying? :D
I don't understand them very well either. I try to improvise sometimes, but my Norwegian ain't that good...
Yes there will be subtitles. For the scandinavian audience. Obviously.
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