FotoNorstrum Exhibition, Barcelona Spain

Just outside the town of Patuakhali in southern Bangladesh there is a small, planned residential district where Muslims and Hindi families live side-by-side in small homes along narrow streets. Though poor and sparse, it is a model neighbourhood with everyone working hard to keep it clean and vibrant. This man stands proud in front of his beautiful home.

The neighbourhood where these women live is a small, close-knit community of lower income families who all seem to know one another well. During the day, when someone is home, front doors are left open and replaced by curtains that are more about shade than privacy. A few chairs are always kept outside as a standing invitation to stay a while. No one ever spends the day alone.

The small Azerbaijani city of Quba rests comfortably to the east of the Caucasus mountains, sitting right at their base, right where they begin to unwind and settle down to the shores of the Caspian Sea. Within the city of Quba itself, and resting just as comfortably, this man is enjoying his own moment of peace, unwinding like the mountains around him, taking every in and nothing for granted.

The rugged terrain and unique motorcycle culture of Gaziantep city have given rise to a small group of lone, rogue bikers who make their living on their bikes, collecting recyclables from garbage bins and city dumps to then sell by weight at the recycling depot.

In other cities throughout Türkiye this is usually done by foot. Men and women wheel a cart up and down the streets, collecting only one of the many types of recyclables out there. But here in Gaziantep, these men, maybe ten or fifteen of them in total, have modified their motorcycle sidecars to be able to carry every type of recyclable they can find. They ride through the city day or night, covering as much ground as they can to earn as much money as they need.

You may not see it in this photograph, but this man, and the other collectors like him, are the stars of this city. They work for themselves and answer to no one; they love their bikes and the feeling of riding free through the city streets; and they’re able make a living without having to change their way of life or give up who they are. Not one bit.

On the highway into and out of the small town of Lin this man sells his fall harvest of onions, potatoes, and his home-made hot pickled peppers preserved in small plastic water bottles. He waits comfortably in the shade throughout the day, but whenever anyone approaches he promptly buttons his jacket and stands straight and proper behind his goods — the perfect gentlemen waiting to greet you.

In Old Dhaka everyone is an entrepreneur. Unless you are very well off or very poor you probably own a small shop or workspace, like this man does, and focus your business on a very singular task. Everyone works hard for their money, and most, like this man, are proud of their successes.