Hurghada, July 2014

When I was walking through Hurghada in Egypt with my wife in the summer, I immediately noticed this young face on the edge of a roadblock. And I really wanted to photograph him. But of course it's not that easy...

Without any knowledge of local customs, we ventured out of the well-protected hotel complex. What were we thinking? It was the first day after Ramadan and on the way from the hotel to the city we passed many well-guarded roadblocks and army posts. Just at the pool, now already in a crisis area? That seemed very strange to us. In fact, an Egyptian with excellent knowledge of German later explained to us that there had been warnings about attacks. However, we didn't feel threatened.

At one of the places where driving licenses and ID cards of passing cars were checked, we crossed the street and I noticed the young soldier. His gaze didn't seem particularly steady. I asked him politely if I could take a photo of him. He shook his head violently and another guard who had just been sitting in the car behind him jumped out of the car and, waving his arm quickly, pointed me to the side and out of his field of vision towards the roadblock.

I tried to calm the situation and explained in a few words of English why I had spoken to the young soldier. Kindness paid off, because the man who had just been hectic and whose position at the checkpoint is still completely unclear to me today said "wait here five minutes".

As I waited, I noticed that security measures had been increased. The line of cars was getting longer and longer. A motorcycle with a driver who looked more like a ship's captain stopped on the other side of the street. Shortly afterwards, a car with pennants on the front enriched the scene. An important-looking person in a suit and the motorcycle-riding ship captain now checked the controls and spoke to the actors. They also looked at the young soldier and nodded. Then they drove on.

The line of cars at the roadblock became noticeably shorter. At some point it broke up. The inspectors looked for a shady spot and lit a cigarette. The young soldier waited. 20 minutes had passed. I looked for eye contact with the guard. "Ask him," he said and pointed to one of the smoking inspectors. I went to him, calmly explained my request and pointed to my small camera. "It's OK!" I smiled.

I quickly went to the young soldier because I was afraid the decision might be changed at short notice. I mentioned that I could take a photo of him and received blank, slightly frightened looks. He turned to his smoking superior, who, luckily for me, only gave him a sign that he had to take my photo.

I directed the soldier a few steps forward and to the left so that I could better position the road and the car around him and released the trigger. I smiled, thanked him and moved on.

Somehow I still can't quite put the story together to this day. But it's too good not to be told 🙂