The Stations

What am I doing here?

I’m not an aid worker, I’m a brand consultant.

Marksteen is taking pictures. He has a reason to. He has this project in mind.

I came along, because he’s my friend, and I hoped between us we’d figure out where I could be of use in this project.

I brought my camera. I’m OK at photography – maybe that’s what I’ll do. It doesn’t feel right so

I stop.

A guy sitting outside his tarpaulin tent, offers me a stool and some tea.

He’s helping to make me feel comfortable.

He’s giving me more than I’m giving him.

Hang on, this is the wrong way around.

I’m jealous of Marksteen, he has a faith, it guides him.

I scrabble around in my head, searching for something philosophical to get hold of.

All it takes for evil to prosper is for good men to do nothing… OK, so do something. Am I good?

I’m tortured by the fear of unintended consequences, of trying to help and making it worse.

What if I make it worse? Shut up, this isn’t about you.

People ask me if it’s true that our government is going to take them in.

I don’t even understand how they have that idea.

I just say it’s what I want. That’s the only bit that seems clear.