Photoquai is a biennale photography exhibition founded in 2007 by the Quai Branly Museum to showcase ‘non-western’ photographers.
The term ‘non-western’ sounds vague, but these are mostly emerging photographers from countries that aren’t usually included in larger photo exhibitions.
The 2011 exhibition, held outdoors on the banks of the Seine, right across from the museum in the 16th arrondissement, ran between September and November last year, and I was lucky enough to have caught it while on vacation.

The photos are snapshots of the world; unique and intriguing, showcasing a world perhaps different from many at the exhibit.
I imagine the photographers are fascinating too; their photos are varied and moving, they tell complex tales of people and places in Africa, Asia, Australia, Eastern Europe and South America.
The photos connect you to these places and make you inquisitive…. It leaves you wanting to learn more about the people and places in the pictures.
Vibrant and beautifully shot, the exhibition felt impressive under the open sky.

AutoPotraits РH̩l̬n Amouzou / Togo
Hélèn took these self-portraits for an art school assignment, at a time when she was also seeking asylum in Belgium.

Waiting Little People – Sergey Loier / Russia
This set on orphans was my favourite of the exhibition; the pictures are beautiful, haunting and poignant.
It’s almost like a fairytale with the bit in the notes that all the children in the pictures found homes
I hope they are happy

Alter Gogo Getters – Andrew Esiebo – Nigeria
The Gogo Getters are a football team made up entirely of grandmothers

Adrián F. Milanès / Cuba

Spring Summer Collection 2018 – Hassan Hajjaj / Morroco
I loved these playful photos from Hassan Hajjaj

And the picture I didn’t take… is young Mack Magagane’s ‘I’ll Be Gone Soon,’ black and white pictures shot in Johannesburg which shed light on teen suicide in South Africa

The next Photoquai exhibition happens in 2013

Ahh… the coleslaw sandwich, I used to think I invented it.
It’s another one of my quick weeknight meals; I do this mostly on Mondays, because that’s when I try to do the least work for my dinner.
I know it’s a little unconventional having a lunch item for dinner… but I hardly eat lunch and this sandwich is really good at any time of the day.
I spruce up a bag of store-bought pre-shredded coleslaw mix with onions and red bell peppers, and jazz it up with a simple balsamic vinegar and lemon dressing.
It’s colourful and filling; sometimes, I skip the bread, toss in some nuts and cranberries and viola… I’m having a salad for dinner!

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“Spring is coming!†the old woman at the market tells me.
She inches closer and I smile in agreement; we’re picking through a cart of oranges.
“I love oranges, they’re always so plentiful in winter†I try to make small talk.
“You know what else is coming?†she asks, “Valentine’s Day†she says, tapping on the oranges.
“What, oranges for Valentine’s day?†I’m intrigued.
That’s when she tells me about ‘winter’s sunshine’, a tangy citrusy drink her husband makes especially for her.
For years, he would make it on the weekends with breakfast, which they had in bed.
“I used to get the cold a lot when we were first married†she explains.
It’s perhaps the sweetest thing I’ve heard in a while; she tells me she’s been married for a very long time, so I ask her what her secret is.
“It’s love, silly! And a little patience but mostly love, that’s the secret to any long and happy companionshipâ€

The old woman and I both grab a couple of oranges, lemons and limes; I thank her for the recipe and bid her a fond goodbye.
For the next several weekends leading up to Valentine’s Day I test out her recipe, I make modifications – more lemons, lime only, sub maple syrup for honey, blood orange and grapefruit (which is a winner), but I like the simplicity of the original recipe.
I would sip the drink often thinking of the old woman, and enduring love; the kind that lasts decades… that quiet lifelong friendship.
I want to hear her stories, perhaps there’s a lesson there; on love beyond the heady passion and heartache.
Indeed, spring is coming!

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Last year I met an Italian man on the stairs of Rue Maurice Utrillo in Montmartre, his eyes lit up when I told him I lived in Vancouver, “Ahh Vancouver…†he said smiling “very beautiful city.â€
He told me he’d visited Vancouver a few times for business, and listed off some of his favourite things about the city, and then he said; “But it’s too bad about the rain, I cannot stand so much rain all the timeâ€
That stopped me on my tracks for a moment; I got a little defensive – “Rain? What rain�
All those times I railed against the rain, who would have thought I’d get so defensive when someone else complained. I should be commiserating with him,
Instead, I fed him the same tired and annoying platitudes I’d been hearing for years, “oh, but it’s the rain that makes it so beautiful, you should see the city on a sunny day after the rain, It’s so invigorating, everything comes alive… so bright and glorious, you’d agree the rain is worth it.â€>

I went for a walk one late afternoon just after the rain had stopped, I couldn’t help but think… the city is most beautiful right after the rain.

I’ll be the first to admit it; basil and Smarties… it’s a peculiar pair.
I didn’t start out wanting to make basil and smarties cookies, I had leftover basil, not enough to make pesto and I didn’t want it to go to waste.
Lemon-lime basil cookies, that’s what I wanted – every refreshing lemony bite tastes like summer, and yet I was out of lemons and limes.
For some reason, maybe because it was the only candy I had lying around, I wondered what I’d get by infusing basil’s sweet subtle minty flavour into a Smarties cookie.

What I got were these Smarties & Basil cookies; rustic, crispy and slightly spicy from the basil and molasses

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