There's something about the sight of hanging laundry that appeals to my photographer's eye. The articles being dried reveal tiny glimpses into the people who wear them, enough to create characters for each child-sized striped T-shirt or brightly colored soccer jersey. I also love the banner-effect of the colorful array of items suspended from a clothesline.
These are pictures I took while on the train between Rabat and Casablanca, Morocco. We were returning to the airport to (hopefully) retrieve Doug's suitcase that had been lost somewhere between Paris and Casablanca.
To anyone who has ever taken a train between major cities whether in the USA or elsewhere,
you know that railroad tracks rarely go through the nicer sections of town.
Traveling has taught me not to judge a dwelling by the look of the outside.
Not everyone in the world is as concerned about curb appeal as western culture, or more specifically, as we Americans.
It's easy to notice the open pipes extending from what appears to be street level or just below.
I don't know if they are for surface drainage, household grey water, or sewage. I would hope not the latter.
Sadly, this is a sight I see all too often in my travels, particularly in the less prosperous countries, or in the smaller towns and villages away from the bigger cities. Garbage, mostly plastic shopping bags and bottles, have been tossed carelessly and repeatedly over a back wall or down a ditch.
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