In my final hours here in Chongqing, I want to post my closing set of images from this fine old city, where Ernest Hemingway once visited, where the WWII capital of Chungking was located so as to be far from the reach of the Japanese. A city most Americans have never heard of, yet with the population of New York City. And like every great city, it has distinct neighborhoods. Here in Huixing, 20 km north of city center, I find life visually rich, and my daily photo-hikes a feast for the eyes.
On a rainy night in old Chongqing, townspeople cross the color-splashed square.Dawn calls her 5-month-old daughter, “Orange Moon,” her little “angel baby” because she seldom cries. (Jock Lauterer photos)
A worker on the campus catches 40 winks.Editor Li of Foshan makes coffee for me — and tea for himself.A family from the countryside awaits their orders at a Chongqing noodle cafe.A winning intramural goalie at SWUPL accepts the adulation of her team after stopping what would have been the opposition’s go-ahead goal.Skirting a vegetable cart, two boys watch for traffic before dashing across the alley.
A surfing restaurant customer bares his sole. (Jock Lauterer photos)
