Childhood memories

Childhood memories

Since my sister and me both love traveling, we decided to escape winter in Germany from Christmas to mid-January and travel through Vietnam. From the hot south to the rainy north.

Usually we both get along very well. Maybe that’s because we both live in different cities and only see each other every two to three weeks. And now three weeks in a row. Day and night. How will that be? Can that work out? We are both very different people with different interests, so I was a bit worried that we would argue in the first few days. Like when we were kids. Good thing we have two things in common: the urge to discover new things and the Vietnamese cuisine. And so, after a few small entry problems at the airport of Ho Chi Minh City, our journey could begin: three weeks, different climate, more than 1700 kilometers to Hanoi and various stopovers. All this by plane, bus and train.

I often travel alone and I really love this. To concentrate completely on photography and the location. Having my sister with me at first seemed a bit strange to me. Especially because I’m not used to be watched by someone while taking pictures. Being commented and criticized constantly. But after some time and several walked kilometers, it became normal. You get used to everything. And: photographing became even a minor matter at some point. We talked, discussed, joked and laughed as we wandered through breathtaking scenery. While sitting on the backseat in a cab, driving through the traffic or hanging out in a cafe. It all took its course. And sometimes I wondered how we suddenly talked about our childhood from the topic of „job perspectives“, for example. How we felt the same, long-ago situation or why we reacted in part so differently. What was missing from my memories, my sister often knew and vice versa. This trip was, so to speak, a completion of our story.

„Please wait a moment. I have to take that picture. „I said and ran a few meters in a side street. My sister followed me: „You always take pictures of such weird things,“ she said. „Yes I know. But I can’t tell you why? „I replied.

At some point I stopped looking for explanations why I was taking pictures. That was also because I often can not put it in words myself. I just simply doesn’t know. Maybe because I do not want to forget that one particular moment. What you feel when you see something for the first time. A certain smell, a feeling, a person or a situation. You forget things. Inevitably and no matter how much you fight against it. One thing is for sure: on the next trip with my sister, we will also complete our memory of Vietnam.

Denis Grau