Niger: Rushing Sheep Home At Sunset

        Niger near Niamey. Naked boy rushing his family's sheep home at sunset.

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      Niger près de Niamey. Tout nu au coucher du soleil, un petit garçon ramène les             moutons de sa famille chez lui.

Belgium: A Farm In The Mist

Belgium. Wallonia near Ath. Misty farm

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Belgique. Wallonie. Ferme sous la brume.

Honduras: Roatan Island's Leisurely Pace

Honduras. Bay Islands. Roatan Island and Town.

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Honduras. Iles de la Baie. Ile et village de Roatan.

Belgium:Rain Has Its Own Charm

Belgium. Thieulain, near Leuze-en-Hainaut. Rainy day.

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Belgique. Thieulain, près de Leuze-en-Hainaut. Jour de pluie.

Bolivia: Stones Over Stones--A Llama Herder Shack.

                          

                           Bolivia. Andes Mountains. Altiplano near Uyuni. Llama herder shack.

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                     Bolivie. Andes. Altiplano. Hutte de pasteur de lamas.

Ecuador: Espeletias In The Mist

Ecuador. Andes Mountains. Paramo of El Angel (Carchi). Fraylejones (espeletias) in early morning mist.

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Equateur. Paramo d’ El Angel (Carchi). Fraylejones dans un brouillard matinal.

Bolivia: Altiplano's Laguna Verde Under Snow

Bolivia. Southern Altiplao. Laguna Verde (Green Lake)

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Bolivie. Altiplano. Laguna Verde (Lac vert)

Ghana: Rain Forest Majesty

Ghana. Near Kumasi. Rain forest road.

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Ghana. Route traversant la forêt.

Journey Among The Samburu

First few paragraphs of a 2,000-word story I wrote on a journey among Kenya’s Samburu cattle herders:      

Simon, my Kikuyu driver, is begging the attention of two Samburu moran languorously leaning on their spears.

         “Would you, for a fee, guide my friend around the Ldoinyolenkiyo Range?” he asks, pointing to me. “He came to photograph your people.” 

         But they keep their heads haughtily turned away, gazes lost in the distance. They have ignored me with even greater earnestness, looking through me when they could not avoid looking at me, as if I were invisible. Samburu morans, unmarried young Kenyan warriors, think of themselves as the salt of the earth. 

     “Let’s move on,” I say. “Those men don’t speak English.”

     And why should they? They look as their 19^th-century forebears may have appeared to Austrian Count Teleki, the first European to set foot here. But for a short length of red cloth wrapped about their loins and lifted on one side by a machete-like panga, which unveils their nudity when they move, they are naked like all Samburu. They love red, to judge by the way they also use it to dye their feather-topped hair and to paint their faces. Multicolored beads adorn their necks and chests.

     But I touched a raw nerve, for now the morans swing around.

     "Of course, we speak English,” says one, obviously shocked, but finally acknowledging my presence.

     "I am Leneemi," he says contemptuously, "and this is Lekerepes.”

He will go with me, he says, if I hire a third man.  A third man, he alleges, will be helpful if we run across murderous Somali poachers. A third spear will be of no use against powerful Somali firearms, but I accept, as tribal gregariousness will not be satisfied in smaller company. 

     They can provide three pack camels to carry our belongings, food, and water. Except farther north, few Samburu own camels, and then mostly for milk and status. Cattle is what they herd, and with great pride. Cattle give them meat, blood, and milk for food; hides to make thongs and to sleep on; horns from which to carve tobacco boxes; and manure to waterproof their huts against rare but violent downpours. Mostly, cattle give them prestige and wealth, pay for a wife, help a son get married, and pull friends out of need in times of hardship. 

     The Samburu also herd goats and sheep. They keep them close for milk and, rarely, for food. In times of drought, when they lose calves and milk, the smaller chattel becomes their last resort, for it reproduces quickly. But its care is the domain of women and children. It gives a man no importance.  

     Next morning, Simon leaves before sunrise, while I help my three new companions to load the camels.

Colombia: Barefoot Cowboy

Colombia. Llanos Orientales. Cowboys here ride horses barefoot.

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Colombie. Llanos Orientales. Les cowboys ici montent à cheval pieds nus.