The next forbidden topic was the army. Soldiers were everywhere: in fields, on construction sites, on roads. But photographing them was strictly prohibited. “The army is our pride, but it is a secret,” they explained to us.
I caught a frame of a group of military men hauling rocks on a farm instead of drilling. They didn’t look like a formidable force, but like cheap labor. Tired, dirty, with indifferent eyes. It destroyed the myth of the invincible army.
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Suddenly, our bus braked hard. A checkpoint lay ahead. An officer with a stone face boarded the cabin. He began checking cameras of the tourists sitting in front. My heart was hammering somewhere in my throat.
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I quickly pulled the memory card from the camera and hid it inside my sock. I inserted a blank one into the camera. When the officer reached me, I handed him the device with an innocent smile. He scrolled through the empty screen and moved on.