Photographing My First Ethiopian Wedding
Every wedding teaches you something new, but this one pushed me in ways I didn’t expect, but in the best way possible.
This Ethiopian wedding took place in Oconee County, Georgia, just outside of Athens, and from the moment I arrived, I knew it was going to be different from what I was used to. The energy, the rhythm of the day, and the way community filled the room immediately stood out. It wasn’t just a wedding, it was a cultural experience, and I felt genuinely grateful to be invited into it as the photographer.
Right before the wedding, though, things took an unexpected turn. My main workhorse lens, the 24–70mm broke. That lens usually lives on my camera for weddings, so losing it right before an indoor, nighttime event wasn’t ideal. There was no time to troubleshoot or panic. I had to improvise.
I ended up shooting most of the night with a 35mm film prime and my 70–200mm. Not exactly the most convenient combo for a fast-paced indoor wedding, but it forced me to slow down, be intentional, and really think through each frame. Because it was an indoor night wedding, I was shooting wide open on my aperture almost the entire time, leaning heavily into available light and trusting my instincts. Limitations have a way of sharpening your creativity, and this night reminded me of that.
What stood out most, though, wasn’t the gear, it was the culture. Getting to witness and document Ethiopian wedding traditions was incredibly cool. The celebration felt communal, expressive, and refreshingly non-traditional compared to many Western weddings. There was movement, sound, and emotion woven throughout the evening in a way that felt deeply rooted and intentional. As a storyteller, that’s the kind of environment that inspires me the most.
I’ll be honest, one of the hardest parts for me was not being able to stay for the entire wedding. I left feeling like there were still so many moments unfolding, so many layers I didn’t get to fully capture. That lingering feeling is bittersweet, but it also reminds me why I love this work. There’s always more story happening, even after the cameras go away.
