… I am just kidding. It all actually started in my grandmother’s apartment, one summer when I was 12 years old. See, growing up we didn’t have much money. In fact, we were spending most of our vacations at home, in Bucharest. I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times we actually packed our bags and went away on holiday. Even so, my vacations were absolutely great because I had quite an inventive mind and could always find something to do. Usually, that something required a bit of a punishment afterwards but that’s a story for another time.
Up until that summer my dream job was to be a professor. I wasn’t really dreaming about it but when someone asked my sister and I once what we wanted to be when we grew up, I heard her say “a professor” so, the most logical thing for me was to think that was THE job to have. See, I had the utmost respect for my big sister and thought all the choices she made were the right ones. Side note: that’s also why I wanted to have a unicorn.
But that summer changed everything for me.
We had two cousins that were living in Sweden and every year they sent us letters, Christmas cards and pictures of their family and dog. My grandmother would keep the pictures in a glass case throughout the entire year, strictly forbidding us to touch them. That summer, my cousins decided to take a holiday in the Maldives. And sent us a postcard. As usual, my grandmother put the postcard on display but, tired of the fact that I would constantly take it out and fumble with it, she let me have it.
I remember staring at it every time I had a moment to spare. I was amazed by the blue shades of the sky and the water, by the white of the sands and the way the clouds seemed to get ready for a swim. I remember trying to picture what it would feel like to caress the palm-tree leaves. Most of all, I would look at the guy sitting in the chaise longue and think he must have the most beautiful life.
That summer I threw away my professor career and decided I would become a travel photographer.
It wasn’t until I was in my early 20s that I could afford to buy a camera (3rd hand owner): a Russian Zenit on film, fully manual. I struggled with it a bit because it wasn’t really in top notch condition but I didn’t give it up. I kept my dream alive in the back of my mind every single night. I remember, as a sign of faith, I put the word Globetrotter as description on my Facebook profile and one guy I didn’t even know commented: “Do you even know what a globetrotter does? It travels the world. You don’t do that so you should remove it“. I didn’t reply anything … in writing, but I didn’t remove the word from my profile and kept on learning everything I could about taking pictures in every light situation. Around that time I started to travel. Shy at first, discovering Romania. Then came Paris and I fell in love with it. Lived for a couple of months in France. And then, unleashed, I never stopped. I either traveled or shortly lived in Bulgaria, Spain, Andorra, United Kingdom, Germany, the Netherlands, Poland, Czech Republic, Russia, Italy, Greece, Denmark, Tanzania, Namibia, South Africa, Argentina, Colombia, Brazil, Ecuador, United States including Hawaii, (aloha 😉 ) and recently just came back from India.
But I did not ever set foot in the Maldives. I plan to go there one day with this picture, find the same spot it was taken and shoot my own. That will be the crowning of my life on the road. Though I will keep on going. After all, God has blessed me with making my dream come true so why stop if it’s in my blood?
And why this post, you may ask? Because of your dream. The one you keep alive, twinkling in the back of your mind every single night. And because I want you to know: with God, everything is possible. Even if you’ll hear others say you should bury your dream. See, we have a saying in Romania: The dogs bark yet the caravan keeps on going. So where will you take your caravan, my friend?
Much love,
Andra Mara
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