A cold night meant a cold start to the day in Namibia, even here right up against the Angolan border. Taking advantage of the cold before the heat arrived, I began exploring the rather small Himba village. Much there was to see with the inhabitants shaking off the night. A particular highlight was when I made eye contact with this boy wrapped in a blanket.
Venturing around the mountainous region of Chin State in Myanmar, sometimes on foot, sometimes on vehicle, we came across small towns and villages nestled on mountain sides or hidden in remote valleys.
Especially in the more remote regions, villagers have tended to tattoo their faces, and adorn their buildings with the skulls of mithuns, an ox-like animal that is found throughout the region. Here, a young girl, sporting the traditional thanaka decoration on her face, poses outside one of these buildings.
Bamiyan, Afghanistan. The place where two giant Buddha statues, the Bamiyan Buddhas, stood for over 1,500 years before being obliterated by the Islamist group known as the Taliban in 2001. I managed to get there in 2009, and explored the area for historically significant sites.
The valley is quite fertile with many small farms. On our long walks between the Buddha statue niches and our yurts, it was quite common to cut across these farms. I encountered this young boy who had been looking after some sheep. He was quite a happy lad and enjoyed having his photo taken.
It had been a long journey travelling by car from Yangon to Hpa An. At our destination, having unpacked, we explored the immediate vicinity of Hpa An and found a great place just as the sun was setting. Children were playing in the river, and an occasional boat would pass, but it was quiet and peaceful. A great end to the day.
In southern Iraq, just a few miles from the Iranian border. It was another hot day, and I was standing outside the structure called Ezra’s Tomb. Nearby, three kids were peeking through a doorway, their faces in obvious delight at the interest being shown to them by my camera. But the countless horrors of people killing other people will touch their lives in countless ways, and I wonder if they still smile. But I have hope.
Iraq, not too long ago. I was heading out on foot across the desert, battling through a sandstorm, to reach the ruins of Uruk, that ancient city famous for its part in the Epic of Gilgamesh. Not too far from here, alone and remote, a small village eke out a living. The sandstorm had imparted a reddish-yellow colour to the entire scene but I was recently able to correct for this and, in the process, recover this engaging image of a young girl near the village edge.
A trip to the ancient ruins near the village of Indein in Myanmar required a pre-dawn boat ride to ensure we got there early and make the best use of available light. It was cold on that boat ride, and I was wearing layers of clothing to keep warm, but I knew in a few hours it would be stifling hot. You make do. It was already warm by the time we arrived at Indein, and the locals were preparing for the day. This was still just the start of the journey to the ruins, but I made sure that I stocked up on liquids from the local stalls before setting off from the village. Here, a young girl was selling various cloth, happy to interact with us.