A couple of days before I left KL, my back chinese friend was telling me about the oppresive Malaysians and how a few days before, a work crew had showed up unannounced to 6am to destroy a shanty town not far from her house. And how it was only the bravery of the woman in the small community and their willingness to lay down infront of giant buldozers that saved their homes. And the whole time she's telling me this, I'm thinking "man, I wish I was there!" and so we talked about people's bravery and passion and how sometimes, just sometimes a few people can make a big impression. Well, the day before I left for Thailand, I was on the train that ran past the shanty town and I was shocked to see that half of it was missing. Gone. Wiped clean. Only fresh dirt and a few dazed-looking poeple walking around where their homes used to be.
And my excitment from the day before was gone. I had wanted to be there to capture that moment and that emotion of these woman (and some of them with their children) forcing this crew to leave. But really, anything I would have captured would have been fleeting, because their gains only lasted 48 hours. And then the crews returned (probably with the police) and took everything away from these woman anyway.
Sometimes when you're a photographer, it's easy to forget that the photos you take are more than moments. Especially for the people in them.