Second Home Photo Contest

Cafebabel's Migration Photo Contest

Myth of the Cave

Compare, friend, our nature in what appertains to the education and to the absence of education, compare it to image like this.
Inside a cave, with the access open at firelight, large as the cave’s span, imagine chainmen that are inside from when were childrens, chained legs and neck.

They, for the bond, can’t move and slew back.
Strange picture is your, he said, and strange are these prisoners.

They are like us, I replied; do you believe these persons be able to see themselves in other way except shadows
on the cave’s wall in front of them? If these prisoners could chat between them, you don’t think that they should
believe their shadows like real things?

Question now, I began again, how they could unchain and heal themselves from the unconsciousness. Admit you that naturally one of theirs could be affranchise and was coacted to stand up.

Coacted to turn around his neck, to walk and to erect the look at firelight; and so doing, he felt pain and the glare

blinded him.

What do you think he reply to somebody which said that before he seen blankness without effect, but now,
being him nearest to what is and being oriented to objects that have more existence, he can see better than before?

Then if he was dragged away from there, up the rise rough and ascent, and not was him left off before that he was

under the direct light of the sun, you don’t think that he suffered and irritated for to being dragged?
And also, arrived at light, being him eyes dazzleds, he don’t could see not even one of the things which are said true.

And before, more easily, he will see the shadows and after the human’s and other object’s picture in their reflex
in the water. Finally, the real objects; from these, after, turning the eye to the star and to the moon light,
he’ll can admire, in the night, the celestial body and the same sky more easily than in daytime the sun.

After more time, I think, he’ll can see and contemplate the sun in its essence, instead the picture in the water,
just the sun, in its clime.

After which, talking about the sun, he could conclude that is it to generate the seasons and the years, and to rule

all the visible things, and to be the cause, in a certain way, of everything which he and his mates saw in the cave.
He now, remembering his first stay, the learning that had there and the fellow prisoners, you don’t think that
he feel joyful for own mutation and feel compassione for his mates?

Ponder you now about this point, I said. If our man was back down and replaced himself to sit in the same seat,
not he would have his eyes full of darkness, coming offhand from the sun light?

And if he should to descry again those shadows
and to contest with they wich were all the time prisoners? He then, don’t would be object of laugh?

They don’t would say about him that he have ruined eyes by his rising. They would say that is pointless to try to go up
and if he would try to loosen the chains and to carry out them, maybe they don’t kill him if could have in hands, and don’t
slay him?

marco brunetti


Sleepy Life

These four snaps, which are considered part of a single view, summarize a day in the life of a young Spanish woman living in a sleepy suburb of a French city.  The absence of people in the images respond to the nature of the place, a sizeable town where nobody walks but moves about by car, and where a foreigner has a hard time meeting someone. Image

Luisa Vernet


Home away from home

Once you’ve been living in a foreign country, it may just be that you unexpectedly realise that home ties are very strong. Some have found the perfect remedy against home-sickness by virtually re-creating their home country abroad. This photo reportage shows how 5 communities (Nepali, Italian, Romanian, Algerian, Spanish) in Brussels, carried in their suitcase a little bit of their native country.



Copyright Bibbi Abruzzini

One way ticket?


The quest for personal fulfilment and growth drove Rita Vilhena, a Portuguese dance performer, to adopt a nomad lifestyle, with residency mainly in the Netherlands for more than a decade.

Within this continuous search, Rita keeps returning to Portugal, her homeland, to visit friends and family and revisit senses, tastes, smells and sounds. For brief moments she contemplates familiar shapes, making an effort to keep memories alive and she wonders – will this country ever be ready to satisfy my needs and ambitions?

While anxiously awaiting a reply, she feels overexposed in a way that only a homeland can make you feel.


Author: Carlos Santos     Contact:

Offroad Sprinter

Die Frage nach der eigenen Identität ist eine komplizierte. Es ist sehr schwierig in einem knappen Satz zu definieren wer wir sind und was uns ausmacht. Wenn wir es aber trotzdem versuchen fangen die meisten dabei an Kategorien zu bilden an Hand derer wir ein Bild von uns beschreiben. Dabei werden folgende Kategorien oft zuerst genannt. Geschlecht, Herkunft, Arbeit. Unsere Nationalität und unser Beruf bestimmen einen sehr großen Teil unseres Lebens. Die Herkunft können wir nicht wählen, den Beruf hingegen schon eher. Doch für Menschen, die ihr Herkunftsland verlassen wird es in vielen Fällen schwierig den Beruf ihrer Wahl weiterhin ausüben zu können. Durch die Arbeit bezahlen wir Rechnungen, manchmal bringt sie uns Freude, im besten Fall erfüllt sie uns mit Stolz. In meiner Arbeit geht es um genau diesen Stolz und es geht um den Versuch das eigene Glück zu finden. Wir alle suchen danach, aber nicht alle im eigenen Heimatland. Es geht hier nicht um Klischees und auch nicht um Mitleid. Es geht um den Mut, den es braucht neue Wege zu beschreiten und den Stolz den Menschen zu Recht verspüren wenn sie diesen Weg erfolgreich bewältigt haben. Auf meinem Weg begegne ich verschiedenen Menschen mit den verschiedensten Lebensgeschichten. Dabei tauchen wir für einen kurzen Moment in eine andere Welt ein. Es ist laut, bunt und obwohl sich alles dreht scheint hier die Welt kurz still zu stehen. Jahr für Jahr wiederholt sich dieses Spiel, dieselben Orte, dieselbe Route. Wie im Kreis, immer wieder von vorne. Manche Schausteller und Besucher eint dasselbe Schicksal. Entweder sie selbst, oder ihre Eltern haben sich auf den Weg gemacht um eine neue Heimat zu finden. Doch die Menschen, die am Jahrmarkt arbeiten sind noch längst nicht angekommen, denn hier ist der Weg das Ziel. Für einen Augenblick sind wir am selben Ort vereint und alles steht still. Aber nur ganz kurz, dann geht das Spiel wieder von vorne los und alles dreht sich.








Sarah Horvath

My new Life

I,m peruvian, living in Portugal.

My life is different, these pictures are a reflection of the happiness I feel.
Neither the crisis and unemployment affect my happiness, for love and the union of my family are essential to feel that the emigrating to this distant country, it was a wise choice.
I know I have the fortunate that my husband has a job, without whose employment could live well, but the love we have is a priority in our lives, without love, we have nothing.
Good luck people!




hello crisis!

In consequence of rising rates of unemployment and bad economic situations in european countries like Portugal, Greece, Italy or Spain, many, mainly young, people move to Germany to look  for better perspectives. These pictures are a part of my graduation project in Communication Design Studies at the Faculty for applied sciences in Aachen/Germany. hello crisis! shows via portraits and interviews their experiences and the encounters with these persons  at their new homeplace in Berlin.











Moving to a foreign country is made with a bag full of dreams and hopes.

For young people, is the pursuing of happiness, ambitions and beliefs.

Embracing the dizziness of being an adult, the violence and chaos of a brave new world.

After two years, the question remains the same: Is it worth it? Yes, every bit.

Bárbara Moura

Lost and found in transfer

Auf den Bildern seht ihr den Anfang und das Ende einer Reise nach Bolivien. Dazwischen ist viel passiert…

Als junge, europäische Akademikerin erhielt ich ein Stipendium, um im der Stadt El Alto bei La Paz ein Jahr lang mit indigenen Frauen aus dem Hochland zu arbeiten. Diese Zeit hat viele Fragen in mir aufgeworfen, von denen ich viele immer noch nicht beantworten kann.

Ist “Entwicklungsarbeit” nicht eigentlich zu verurteilen, weil man mit ihr westliche Werte transportiert und kolonialistische Strukuren aufleben lässt? Wie könnte eine alternative Entwicklung aussehen? Was ist meine Rolle dabei? Wie möchte ich in Zukunft leben? Wie kann ich trotzdem etwas ändern?




At the heart of Paris

For me, this image captures the traveler’s spirit, as these two young men sit on the shores of Seine river with their glasses of wine. It captures the most enjoyable aspects of living abroad, transmitting a sense of adventure… but at the same time, the pigeon adds some humbleness to the scenario. These two characters crossed my path on my first day as an emigrant in Paris.



Name: Catarina Viana REIS