The annual Lake Turkana festivities see around a dozen tribes, mainly from northern Kenya, take part in cultural exchanges and traditional dances. It’s quite a fascinating couple of days and provides opportunities to see local tribes who are not normally on a safarist’s bucket list. For example, I found one local El Molo village to be just a few rudimentary huts loosely strewn together, surviving largely through fishing. A dwindling tribe, the El Molo may soon disappear through assimilation and intermarriage with other local tribes.
With the day’s festivities finished and with the onset of twilight, a few miles from the nearest village, the tribes of the Turkana and Samburu dance well into dusk on the windswept shores of Lake Turkana. Seeing the tribes enjoying each other’s company, it can sometimes be difficult to remember that cattle-stealing is causing much strife between the different tribes. But initiatives such as the Lake Turkana festival will help promote trust and understanding.
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.
There we were, travelling along the Hindu Kush in Afghanistan. A journey through mountain passes and dry valleys, along dried river-beds and empty places on lonely roads, with nothing more than dust-devils keeping us company. Low temperatures and the glare of the sun added to the harshness of the landscape.
However, it was a challenge that I enthusiastically seized in my quest to reach the fabled Minaret of Jam, a place that only a few travellers reach. But here, in the middle of nowhere, there was human activity; a rest-stop for truck drivers hauling their goods across the country, a place to stretch the legs and take shelter from the elements.
Although it was August, the place was cold, and I couldn’t imagine what this place would be like in winter. A hardy landscape creates a hardy people. This man tendered to our needs with chai and food, his face betraying the challenges of the environment.
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.
Chin State in Myanmar is mountainous, and that means long winding roads carved into the forested mountain sides. It gets quite cold here in the winter, and villages have a hard life surviving off the land, but friendliness is abundant. In one of these villages, a young girl takes note of the new visitors; I suspect we met with her approval!