We got caught in the rainstorm last Saturday returning from the Caribbean festival (warning, opens to loud music).

It was one of those spontaneous outpours that usually come from nowhere. The day had been dry, hot and humid, no one expected rain.

It started when we boarded the Seabus back downtown, I was slightly optimistic; we were on our way to the Plaza of Nations to check out Desifest.

By the time Seabus docked, it became disappointingly apparent the rain wasn’t going to stop any time soon – the sensible thing was to get home and regroup.

Those sunny days obviously did our heads in, because for a place where it rains all the time, people were acting as though a strange thing of nature had befallen us. It was coming down quite fast and heavy when we got out of the skytrain station, the rain felt sticky, warm and uncomfortable.

We walked a few miserable feet, all but ready to pack it in when a voice behind us said “you guys want to wait here for a while, it’s coming down really hard now.”

Of course, there we were, right in front of a church and he was offering us refuge from the rain.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on us as we scuttled in through the massive doors.

The church was preparing for their Saturday evening service, I imagine there’ll be a few extra empty pews because of the crazy weather.

This little incident had me thinking about churches and their image as a place of refuge.

St Andrew’s Church – 1022 Nelson

First Baptist Church – 969 Burrard

Christ Church Cathedral – 690 Burrard

St. Mary’s Ukrainian Church – 14th & Cambie

Holy Rosary Cathedral – 646 Richards

Russian Orthodox Church – 75 East 43rd

St Paul’s Anglican Church – 1130 Jervis

I live close to many churches, too many actually. There are three churches on my block, and close to ten more within a mile.

These are very old churches that have survived the neighbourhood/city and the changes that have come with it.

The old Presbyterian Church with beautiful architecture is finally being let go; there’s a for sale sign out in front, it makes me wish I was in a position to buy old churches.

I’ve been to that church a couple of times; it’s like being among old friends, always reminded me of the term “safe-heaven”.

There’s a Catholic church two buildings away, a couple of days ago I heard sounds of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah coming from the inside the church, I think it was the Jeff Buckley version.

It made me smile because I’ve never regarded it as a “Christian” song; I’ve always considered it a song about love and the variety of life – there are many different notes of Hallelujahs, “all the perfect and broken hallelujahs have equal value.”

I go to the Wesley church further down beyond the park for Carols Night because I love traditional Christmas carols/hymns – I find them comforting, it brings back pleasant memories from my childhood.

Every year, around the Oscars, there are a series of Sunday services that explores the Christian faith and the Oscar nominated movies called the Oscar Sermon Series.

The religious institutions around here seem to have grown on me, they’re a part of the community as anything else. Church for me, had always been the place where you went to get instructions on how to live your life for that week.

I first read about Mariatu Kamara in Chatelaine of all places. Mariatu, like Ishmael Beah is a young author who recounts her experiences as a child during the civil war in Sierra Leone.

I bring up Ishmael Beah because he wrote the forward to Mariatu’s book and also because one of the questions P. asked him when he was on his book tour a few years ago was why there weren’t any accounts of the experiences of the female/girl child during the war in his book. He said he had purposefully left those out because he didn’t think it was his story to tell. He later on mentioned half jokingly that maybe we could tell that story one day; I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my memories of Sierra Leone were not of the horrors and atrocities of war. But this is Mariatu’s story to tell and she tells it in her book (with Susan McClelland), The Bite of the Mango.

I’ve been meaning to write about this book for months, everyone in my family read this book months ago – but I just couldn’t seem to make time to read it.

My mom burst out laughing one afternoon while reading it – this was a little disturbing to me, “Why are you doing this? War is not funny” I said in mock horror.

Yes, this is a sad book, but it’ll also make you laugh, it’ll make you angry, it’ll break your heart and make you cry but above all, it’ll make you hopeful.

It’s Mariatu’s story told effortlessly about her circumstance and life growing up when the war reached her village.

There’s the barbaric and irrational act of violence that has left her without hands, a permanent physical reminder of the horrors she’s endured.

There’s her having a baby when she was but a baby herself.

It’s a tale of what is undoubtedly the ugliness of war and the hard journey to reclaim oneself.

It’s a little about forgiveness and going back home.

It’s quite an easy read for book with such a hard theme.

It’s a little about happy endings too.

Now twenty-three years old, Mariatu lives in Toronto and is a UNICEF Special Representative for Children and Armed Conflict, she also runs the Mariatu Foundation.

It goes without saying that photography is an expensive hobby.

Then again hobbies tend to be expensive, last fall I took up crocheting for a minute – I bought $200 worth of yarn one weekend, and a pretty drawer to house them, they still sit, mocking me.

The cheapest step in DSLR photography is really the first step… acquiring a camera body.

My Camera came with an EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS kit lens, thousands of pictures later, I was ready to try out other lenses.

One great tip I got while researching the next lens to upgrade to was to rent a lens. The idea of getting a rental lens seemed cumbersome initially, but the more I researched and read from others, the more tempting the idea seemed.

We checked out two stores that rent out photography equipment in Vancouver; Beau Photo and Leo’s Camera Supply. These shops mostly rent to professionals. Both stores have very friendly and knowledgeable staff, they were patient and accommodating, considering I’m not a professional photographer and they actually had to explain stuff to me – like… f/8 is the same on a 200mm as it is on a 50.

We ended up renting from Leo’s Camera because of their downtown location. I rented a telephoto zoom lens – the EF 70-200mm F2.8 ‘L’ IS USM.

It’s definitely not a walkabout lens; it’s a tad heavy at over 3lbs.

We spent the day in Deep Cove hiking (bad idea when you’re carrying a lens the size of a small baby!) and shooting our beautiful surroundings, we shot people, water, mountains, kayakers, houses, sunbathers and many, many more.

It was a nice tiring adventure which taught me that you don’t need an expensive lens to take good pictures, but most importantly, you won’t magically start taking extraordinary pictures just because you have a big, fast and expensive piece of glass. Photography is an art and experience doesn’t hurt either.

With tired feet and sore arms we made our way back downtown.

Later on in the evening we dragged ourselves to David Lam Park to see Delhi 2 Dublin as part of the Vancouver International Jazz Festival free concert series.

I saw them earlier in the week during the Canada Day celebrations and they were brilliant! Their songs are a fusion of music from northern India and Ireland; I think their genre is considered world music.

I took about a hundred more pictures, it was a great atmosphere and I practiced photographing people and crowds – I think I still have ways to go. I tried some night photos and shot some videos too.

Obviously tired, I forged on the next day determined to make the most of the lens.

I walked east towards Chinatown, I took more pictures and discovered neighbourhoods I didn’t even know existed, it was all quite exciting.

I ended up back at David Lam for more jazzfest fun.

All too soon it was Monday and the lens had to go back. I’m glad got the lens, it was a great learning experience, and looking back two weeks later with a few new tricks up my sleeves, I’d have done things a little differently. I’d have been bolder, played with the settings more and experimented more.

In all, it was fun, I was sad to see the lens go – I can’t wait to try out other lenses.

Mike’s one of my favourite Facebook ‘friends’, he’s outspoken, laid-back, fun and not creepy.

He lives in Ghana, very dedicated to the business he runs and plays hard as well.

I may have gone to school with him, I don’t remember.

He has understated chauvinistic opinions but in a way that adds to his humorous personality because you really don’t want to believe that he’s serious about the things he says.

Mike seems like he’ll be a riot in person, every once in a while Mike and I would talk on Face Book chat – about what he’s been up to, his strong mistrust of his government and how he thinks I should be living my life, short fun conversations that breaks up the monotony.

Mike has one repeated request though; he’s wants to see pictures, close to the end of our conversations he’ll just put it out there “so, any new pictures?”

I gave him the link to my flickr account once, he came back and said he wasn’t looking for pictures of ‘things’ I’d photographed; he wants pictures of me. I’m sure he tries this with all the ‘girls’.

Mike and I talked yesterday, we hadn’t spoken in months, things are going well for him, he still hates the government and he has broadband now, so he’ll be online more. I try not to belabour my point when he insists he’s good to drive after several bottles of beer. And then he asks for those photos, I tell him I’m taking more pictures now and blah blah blah… that’s exactly how he probably hears it because he insists on those shots of me.

I give him a link to a flickr set of photowalks, there’re a few shots of me there. Mike browses for a few minutes and comes back with this; “Nice pictures, but I think you could do better with a bit more short dresses, don’t you think?”

I LOLZ it away because, oh Mike he’s so funny… but he’s not done yet, “You should try some short skirts and shorts too, and stop wearing trainers, you’re a sweet lady, get some high heels”

I’m a little dumbfounded so I try to inject weakly “but… these are photos of me in a park though”

“Yes, but you should try and show more of your assets, don’t wear slacks, get some shorts and high heels when you’re going the next time” He says.

I decide I’m fighting a loosing battle and I really don’t want to make excuses, I say he’s right, I’m wrong and thanked him for his help. Next time I’ll wear high heals and short shorts to walk the Seawall, besides I see people do it occasional and think they’re idiots but I guess they’re friends of Mike.

He goes on to give me this piece of advice “You have to have a bit of tease in you, I saw some of your backside in the slacks, we want to see more of that”

“Ok” I say

But then he leaves me with these parting remarks “If you want to become a pro in photography, you have to make your pictures look like it’s about to explode in your face”

Huh? I’m confused; I have to dress like a slut to take great pictures? I’m not sure what one’s got to do with the other but I don’t ask Mike.

)

I start to think that maybe he’s on to something so I talk about this to the only sympathetic person I know. Guy listens quietly for a while and then says “If you care so much about this person’s opinions then wear some of those ‘inappropriate’ clothes your mom complains about, take pictures and send them to him, I’m sure his face would explode”

I saw this video on one of the many photography blogs I visit daily.

The message is powerful and poetic as well as inspiring.

While I’m no where near the kind of photographers he refers to in this video (well, I’m of those that suck), I still found it engaging and beautiful, made me want to go out and take beautiful pictures.