Zabaleen - Cairo's unsung heroes

It's the flies that strike you first, followed swiftly by a chorus of curious young voices: "Welcome! What's your name?" and the reserved gazes of the slum's older residents, wondering what this next bunch of whiteys wants with their lives.

More than 60,000 Zabaleen, mostly Coptic Christians, live in Manshiyat Naser (Garbage City) beneath Cairo's Muqattam cliffs. The Zabaleen, literally 'garbage people' in arabic, have made their livelihoods from recycling Cairo's refuse since the 1930s. Despite recycling some 80% of the refuse they collect, the Zabaleen get little or no thanks for their service to the city and often live amid intense squalor.

I visited the Zabaleen one afternoon last week during a trip to Cairo with Middle East reporter Josh Wood after watching the fantastic documentary Garbage Dreams which follows the Zabaleen over a number of years. I can't quite put my finger on why, in these situations, I'm (literally) a pig in shit but that afternoon was the most rewarding and engaging of our entire week's trip. The Zabaleen fulfill such a worthwhile (if unglamorous) role, it was an honour to be able to document their work. Knowing I was able to get a taxi and a shower afterwards probably helped.

In the Guardian...sort of

Above is the picture that didn't get printed by the Guardian along with a story about labour rights of Palestinian refugees in Lebanon, which my good friend and esteemed colleague Mr Richard Ian 'Art' Hall had published in last week's Guardian Weekly. The kid on the right is seven-year-old Hasan Hameid, who wants to, but sadly probabaly will never get the chance to, be a doctor.

A publication from back home is a something of a holy grail for us, so congratulations are in order. Anyway, they said they didn't have the budget for my photo and ran a subscription wire picture instead.

However, every cloud has a silver lining and freelancer Ahmed Moor, who worked with Rich on his Guardian story wrote a piece for the Guardian website's 'Comment is Free' section. He needed a mug shot and happened to be filing from our office, so I was more than happy to help him out and, hey presto, got a picture on the Guardian's website. One day it'll be the big one beneath with my name on it. Below is another picture the Guardian didn't like (it chopped his hair off), but it's my favourite of the three frames we took by my office window.

The new Palestinian labour law also came up at Executive this month, below is my favourite shot from a series I took for our story.

Missing

These women hang out in front of the UN building in Beirut, protesting the fact that their sons were kidnapped during the civil war; those still living languish somewhere in the depths of a Syrian prison. Every day they maintain their vigil in the hope of some kind of closure. Syria withdrew from Lebanon five years ago but there has still been no official word on their missing sons, just scraps of hope from fellow inmates who have been released.
Anyone good at French can read more about in Sebastien Malo's article for Montreal broadsheet La Presse.

Airbag upgrade

Possibly my most eye-opening assignment to date, but chances are these shots will almost certainly not get used for the story on health tourism they were intended for – not the kinda thing you want to see with your toast in the morning! After getting me all smocked up, the guys at the clinic were quite happy for me to snap away. The dehuminisation of their patients was probably more unnerving than the gory details; these guys were true comedians and it was easy to forget that there was a real human being amidst all the cutting, poking and stuffing. It was an implant replacement – whip off the nipples and shove in a bag filled with salt water. And all before lunch.

Austere Akkar

Akkar, Lebanon's northenmost region, was pretty much an extension of Syria until their soldiers withdrew in 2005. It's stunningly beautiful but is pretty much goddarn penniless. The three people here are all involved in or own small businesses which have been given a helping hand by Relief International to get their projects off the ground and bring some much needed dollar into the area.

The angle of the dangle

Taking the award for possibly the coolest press conference to date (probably the only 'cool' press conference, in fact) was the launch of Dinner in the Sky in Beirut. We were only given champagne, but corporate parties or people scared of flooding can part with enough cash to eat for a year at ground level in exchange for the experience of some serious aerial mastication - Michelin starred chefs, the works. Not sure if it tastes better at 40m high but it's certainly premium fun. Just don't invite someone with a weak bladder. This feature is running in Jazeera airline's August inflight magazine, so they had to photoshop everyone's champagne glasses out as it'll be out during Ramadan; kinda killed the bottom shot as it was nicely filling the space next to his elbow but there ya go.

At the races

Beirut's horse racing track or the 'Hippodrome du Parc de Beyrouth', to use its official title, is an oasis of history in a city that is barely recognisable from 10 years ago. To walk from the busy highway through it's grand gates for the first time is akin to discovering some ancient paradise - pseudo roman ruins, bushes and towering pine trees float in a lake of trimmed grass, ringed by the dark sandy track. Ascot it ain't, but the concrete stands and formica chairs still waft a hint of the French colonialism which built the place back in 1918. The same old dudes sit in the same old chairs every weekend, unless, that is, they're standing up screaming at their horse.


There's seemingly no visible sign to divide between the 'cheap seats' on the left and the exclusive smoking lounge tucked away in rarified air-conditioned exclusivity, but the unspoken class segregation takes place with impeccable efficiency. Slinging a camera or two around your neck means you get to see the show from everyone's seat, should you chose to, and the race track presents an interesting microcosm of the country's social strata. This place is a goldmine for pictures, so there might be a few more of these to come.