This might be one of my favourite photos that I’ve ever shot. Not from a technical perspective, but from a social commentary perspective.

I was in Doha, Qatar, for two weeks during the World Cup in November/December 2022. Every morning I’d go on a bit of a wander in the side streets of the old part of the city. I’d sip on a few cups of karak tea along the way, just admiring the buildings and streets, checking out what was going on. (The best part about being in a new city is observing the ordinary things that you often ignore or take for granted back home.) Sometimes I’d end up talking with some local (or more likely, a migrant worker from South Asia) because they’d approach me, wondering what the hell I was doing there.

On this particular day it was around 8am. Up ahead at the end of the street I could see this crew chilling quietly on the back of a truck. “That would make a great photo,” I thought. They stared at me as I walked closer. I didn’t want to bother them so I just smiled, nodded and kept walking. Several paces later I turned around to look again. They were all craning their necks sideways still staring at me. So I turned around and said “hey”. The guy with the Taqiyah hat (2nd from left) jumped up and walked up to me.

“You from?” he asked me.
“Canada.” (It was too complicated trying to explain that I now live in England.)
“Canada?!”
“Yeah. I’m here for the World Cup. Football. Where are you from?”
“Pakistan!”
“Oh, cool. All of you from Pakistan?”
“Yes!” he replied while pointing to his pals. “Canada and Pakistan are brothers.”
He raised his fist in solidarity.

My Urdu is a bit rusty, so we continued small talk in broken English. I pointed to my phone to ask if I could take their picture. They all lit up, excited, clamouring to get in the shot. I bit down on the paper cup I was holding so that I could operate the phone with both hands. I quickly snapped the photo while stood in the middle of the road as a car honked impatiently. Everything lined up perfectly in the frame: the buildings, the road, the truck, the guys and their expressions – and the sunlight hit just perfectly.

They chuckled and gave me the thumbs-up. I returned the thumbs-up. I thanked them and went on my way. That was it.

It’s the small, seemingly inconsequential moments like this that make me love traveling.