Kata Cserveny

“Everyone on the subway was aware of the Brennan incident,” said Paul Kojo, a native of Ghana who has lived in Austria for 23 years. “It always comes down to showing one’s ID. I have personally never had any confrontation with the police, only routine controls. I have been checked four times in over 20 years. But, most of my white friends have never been checked.

“Recently, these checks have been rampant. A friend of mine came to work angry the other day after having been pulled over by police. Colleagues were joking about him looking like a drug dealer.” But you have to understand the police point of view, too, he said. Coming from a police family, he sees routine checks as part of a policeman’s duty.

“I’m sorry ma’am, I cannot allow you to enter. The bar is full,” says one of the two black-clad doormen that has stepped forward to block the entrance. Only seconds later, two other guests arrive and walk straight in, past the bouncers, without any interference.

“If the bar is full, how come those guests were admitted?” I ask.

“I’m sorry ma’am, you cannot enter without a reservation.” The bouncer retorts indifferently.

“How would you know that we don’t have a reservation without asking us in the first place? And how come those other guests were not asked for reservations either?”

It is the 16th of September 2007, Korengal Valley, Afghanistan; the valley has been the scene of some of the heaviest and most brutal combat in the country. The expression on the soldier's face conveys exhaustion. As he sinks onto the bunker, his body language is so iconic it almost looks posed; the green of his camouflage uniform blends seamlessly into the background, and only the bright white shade of his skin gives him away.

Here the aphorism holds: sometimes a picture is worth 1,000 words.