If you guessed that the still life of a television antenna and flowers on a tile roof at dusk was easier, you are wrong. In the United States, sure, but this is Spain. As I stopped on the sidewalk for a couple minutes to set up the shot, an old local man came up and asked us if we wanted to buy the house. It was his house. Why was I looking at it? I told him I was just taking a picture of the pretty flowers, if that was okay with him. He asked to see the picture, so I showed him. He looked back up at the roof. Indeed, there really was an antenna on the roof, so he had to discuss that with his friend for a bit. I don't know what they were saying. He asked again if we liked the house and if we thought that it was for sale. It was his house.
He asked us who we were. He asked us where we were from. He figured out that Becky was Chinese. I told him I was Dutch, but I was from the United States. He didn't understand the word I used for Dutch, so he was confused. Finally he repeated the exact same word (with exactly the same intonation, I'm sure of it) and I told him he was right. Note to self: I am Dutch when I am in the United States, but I am American when I am in Europe.
We told him we worked at the school ECA. He said that one of the other teachers was his neighbor, and that this neighbor of his was a good man.
Finally we had convinced him that we were good people, that we didn't want to buy his house, and that we weren't spying on him either. It's a good thing I got the photo when I did, because by the time we had really got the home owner's permission, it was too dark to take pictures.
But not everyone in Camarma is suspicious of photographers. Construction workers think they are cool. There was a happening construction site right across the street from our apartment, and every time I walked past, I just tried not to be noticed. But one time I had my camera with me, and I just had to take a picture of a man smoothing plaster from high on a scaffold. I put my camera away and was about to go into my building when I heard one of the construction workers ask me to take a picture. I turned around and he was standing there expectantly with his friend, just waiting to be digitized by an American.
When I gave in (it didn't take much to convince me) he got excited and called some more friends over:"Quick! Get in the picture! C'mon!" As I stood there with my camera, Spaniards hurriedly put down their power tools, wiped their hands on their pantalones, took off their hats, ran their fingers through their hair, and lined up for the photo shoot.
