I was born in Ukraine and studied to be a laser engineer — yes, that's a real profession. If Buenos Aires ever urgently needs a focusing lens for a DPSS laser, now you know who to call.
Then came six countries I stayed in long enough to figure out the alarm clock: Spain, Italy, China, Vietnam, Canada. Somewhere between them, I picked up a camera. First to remember. Then to make a living. Now to understand.
I lived in monasteries for a while — Christian first, Buddhist later. The first taught me silence. The second taught me that silence sounds different depending on what it's covering.
Around country sixty I stopped counting. Counting, as it turned out, isn't the same as knowing.
One April we landed in Buenos Aires with my wife Olha and our Chief Happiness Officer Akira. No scouting trip, no return ticket. I'd never been here before — but somehow it wasn't arrived. It was came back.
Olha, by the way, is now the neighborhood's favorite person. Her name written reads almost as hola — as Spanish doesn't pronounce the H. A good name for returning.