Mono Lake It is like another world: limestone tufa towers rise like strange stalagmites out of the still, salty lake waters in California’s Mono Lake Tufa State Natural Reserve.
The air is hot and still: July afternoon temperatures range from the high twenties (29°C; 84°F) into the mid-thirties (35°C; 95°F) – and rapidly drop into the single digits at nightfall.
The waters are dense and still: the shallow waters that cover about 168 square kilometres (65 square miles) flow in from the surrounding mountains, but don’t flow out again. Mono Lake is the terminal lake in an endorheic basin; thanks to water evaporation into the hot, dry, desert air over the millennia, the salts and minerals that wash into it from Eastern Sierra streams have become more concentrated and now are about two and a half times as salty as the ocean, and very alkaline.
Some say the ancient lake is over 1 million years old: it was formed at least 760,000 years ago, and is among the oldest lakes in North America. Sitting at the north end of the Mono–Inyo Craters volcanic chain, it is thought to be the vestige of an inland sea.
No fish break the surface of the dense waters: there are none here. They can’t survive the hypersalinity and high alkalinity. This is home to single-celled planktonic algae, Mono Lake brine shrimp, alkali flies, and a number of nematodes. And these, in turn, are all an important source of food for migratory and nesting birds. The ancient lake literally teems with bird life, and the longer you stand on the shore, the more you see.
Perhaps the lake’s most remarkable features are the tufa towers: lumpy columns of calcium carbonate – or limestone – that rise out of the still waters like something from another world.
I was there in the early evening with a friend and a tripod: we had spent the morning at the nearby Minaret Vista (see: Minaret Vista), and were hoping for a nice sunset amongst the tufa.
Join me!
An Oasis in the Desert As we walk into the South Tufa Area, Mono Lake and the large volcanic Paoha Island within it, come into view. Naturalists lead free tufa walks here three times daily – which probably explains the clump of people in my view.
Mono Lake Tufa Remains The lake was much larger once. From 1913, the city of Los Angeles diverted waters from feeder rivers, and in 1941 extended the Los Angeles Aqueduct system into the Mono Basin. By 1990, the lake had dropped 14 metres (45 feet) and had lost half its volume relative to the 1941 water level. It took concerted local effort to save the lake, and the state reserve was finally established by California in 1981. Fallen tufa from years past still litter the sandy ground.
South Tufa Area Tufas start their life underwater: calcium-rich freshwater springs bubble up from under the lake bed.
Tall Limestone Tufa The calcium reacts with the carbonates in the lake water, combining to make calcium carbonate, or limestone. The limestone settles as a solid around the spring, and over time, builds up into a tufa tower.
Evening on the Tufas These tufa towers keep growing, as spring waters continue to rise up through them, and leave more deposits as they seep through the surfaces.
People at the Tufas Mountains rise up all around us.
Sage Thrasher (Oreoscoptes Montanus) – I Think! The lake is a mecca for birds and bird watchers.
Birds on Mono Lake
Moonrise over the Tufa Behind us, the moon rises over the tufa in the south east, …
Sunburst on the Tufa … and in the other direction, the lowering sun is reflected in the lake.
Tufa Towers The lengthening shadows highlight the rough surfaces of the limestone columns.
Sandpiper in the Tufa The lake is home to sandpipers, oystercatchers, avocets, phalaropes and other long-billed, long legged waders, who all blend in with the rocks. I had trouble distinguishing one from the other!
Tufa The shapes reflected in the still waters are other-worldly.
Tufa Mirrored They seem to float on the water in the evening light.
Children Collecting Water At the edge of the lake, children collect water to study the brine shrimp and alkali flies up close.
Long-billed Dowitcher (Limnodromus Scolopaceus) or Wilson’s Phalarope (Phalaropus Tricolor) ?
Sage Thrasher (Oreoscoptes Montanus)
Tufas on the Lakeshore
Evening Walk around Mono Lake
A Seagull in the Looking Glass Mono Lake is home to the largest California gull (Larus californicus) nesting sites in North America, and an estimated 50,000 gulls stop here in summer.
Wilson’s Phalaropes (Phalaropus Tricolor)
Tufas in the Lake The scene is primordial – or like something out of science fiction.
Nesting Osprey Since the mid-1980s, osprey pairs have been nesting on tufa towers in Mono Lake.
Osprey Pair Although the raptors are fish-eaters – and therefore have to hunt for food further afield – the tufa-islands provide nesting sites that ground-based predators can’t access.
Jagged Tufas With my tripod set up near the shoreline, …
Moon over Mono … I can watch the moon rise over the tufa towers …
Tufas in the Twilight … as the sky changes colour over the lake …
Tufa Island after Sunset … and everything goes dark and quiet.
[…] I was visiting a friend who lives part of the year in this magnificent area. We had explored the South Tufa Area of the lake, with its otherworldly tufa towers of limestone rising out of the salty waters the evening before (see: Evening over the Tufa Towers). […]ReplyCancel
Nyangatom Woman On the west banks of the southern Omo River, the Nyangatom tribal people continue to guard their traditions and eke out a living. Nyangatom women can wear up to 8 kg (17 lb) of beads, which they don’t remove. A young girl gets her first strand of beads from her father, and adds more every year.
Life isn’t easy in the lower reaches of Ethiopia’s South Omo Zone.
This is a harsh environment: an arid region with low annual rainfall, where indigenous groups have mastered flood-retreat agriculture on the banks of the Omo River. For generations, a number of distinct ethnic groups have managed to hold onto their languages and cultures, engaging in a semi-nomadic, predominantly pastoral lifestyle on their traditional grazing and agricultural lands.
Roads are poor, infrastructure is virtually non-existent, and towns are few and far between. This very remoteness has allowed sixteen discrete tribal groups from three different language-families to maintain their traditions. One of these groups, the Nilo-Saharan Nyangatom, arrived in the Omo Valley from northern Uganda about 150 years ago.
Thought to number about 30,000 people across South Sudan and Ethiopia, the Nyangatom have a reputation for being aggressive, and conflicts between themselves and neighbouring tribes are not uncommon. The village I visited on the west bank of the Omo River was on contested lands that were reputedly taken from the Kara people in bloody battle (see: Goats and Guns at Sunset).
I was travelling with photographer Ben McRae on a Piper Mackay tour. We were staying in a mobile campsite in Kara territory, organised and set up Grand Holidays Ethiopia. To reach this site, we had driven some distance off the last bitumen road, bouncing across what looked like jungle-clad walking trails. Even in our four-wheel drives, we had to stop periodically to negotiate with fallen trees.
From our campsite, we set off in the relative cool of an equatorial pre-dawn to travel up the river in an outboard boat. After about 40 minutes, we pulled up onto a muddy shore, and then walked about half an hour across a cracked and barren landscape, with little growing except thorn trees.
That is where we found the Nyangatom village.
As I said: these tribes are remote!
Boat Driver on the Omo River The sun is barely sneaking over the horizon as we make our way up the Omo River from Dus Village.
On the River Once our noisy motor is turned off, the river falls back into stillness and silence.
Nyangatom side of the River This is territory the Kara people still believe is theirs; picturing their lush green river-side crops (see: Environmental Portraits), I think the Kara got the better end of the deal!
Nyangatom Donkey Herd As we approach the village, the herdsmen are taking animals out to pasture. This was the first time in the Omo that I saw a herd of donkeys. The Nyangatom use them for haulage and transport – especially when they are moving camp.
Zebu Cattle Further south along the river, large livestock are at extreme risk from sleeping sickness carried by tse tse flies, so large herds of cows there are rare. The Nyangatom are higher up here, and had a great number of humped zebu cattle – well adapted to withstand the local climate.
Nyangatom Youth In the cool morning air, most people carry a blanket for warmth – …
Nyangatom Boy … or at the very least, a length of woven cloth to act as a scarf.
Nyangatom Boy-Child The children love posing …
Nyangatom Boy in a Blanket … for the various cameras …
Showing the Kids their Pictures … and they love seeing the results. The tribal groups in the Omo Valley know that their appearance is of marketable value: in many places, you ‘Pay per Click’. In this village, however, our guide had negotiated a fixed price for the whole village. This gave us much more freedom to wander, and to interact with people more naturally.
Nyangatom Kraal The homes in the settlement are surrounded by a thorn-bush fence. The cattle have their own section of kraal – as do the other animals. Children are everywhere!
Nyangatom Woman Nyangatom men are polygamous, with each wife having her own woven beehive hut.
Nyangatom Woman and her House The flat earth between the beehive huts is neatly swept.
Bangles and Beads Bracelets seem as popular as beads. You can see an example of scarring for beautification on this woman’s arms …
Woman in a Headband … and this woman’s forehead. Some of the beaded necklaces are quite chunky!
Young Nyangatom Man The oldest married Nyangatom man is the uncontested head of his family group. He does not have his own home: he stays with one of his wives. Younger men tend to marry in order of seniority, but even once they are married, the eldest is still the ‘owner’ of all the livestock and children. Other family members have ‘rights of use’, according to their place in the extended family.
Village Goats
A Stool and a Calabash All across the Omo Valley, calabash gourds are hollowed out and dried, and used for drinking and for carrying water. I think this one was filled with fermented sorghum mash.
Woman in a Sheet In a community with a subsistence lifestyle, every purchased product is at a premium: blankets, sheets, and shop-bought clothing around the village are all well-worn.
Outside Nyangatom Homes Men in each tribal group have a slightly different style of wooden stool, which doubles as a head-rest. They carry these around wherever they go. Women squat or sit on the ground.
Woman in Red White and Blue Houses are dark, and the doorways are small and low. Like many other Nyangatom, this woman has facial scars and a small lower-lip plug.
Man in Green Of course, you never quite escape the outside world! Mobile phones are an essential – …
Men with Kalashnikovas … as are the AK-47s that are needed to protect/raid livestock and territory. The Nyangatom people were the first to be armed with modern weaponry, which they brought into the region from neighbouring South Sudan.
Old Man with Ritual Scars Not all scarring is decorative. When a Nyangatom man kills an enemy, his upper body is cut to release any bad blood. This elder took great pride in his badges of honour.
It wasn’t long after meeting this elder that – as we were in the process of leaving the village – we visitors were all corralled by a young herder with his automatic rifle over a misunderstanding about money.
It was very surreal, and, at first I didn’t have the sense to be particularly worried. Fortunately, although the young man was quite serious, our guide was able to persuade him that we had duly paid all requisite fees (quite publicly) to the village elders for distribution.
The people here are under increasing pressure. Like the other tribes in the Lower Omo Valley, the Nyangatom have had to wrestle with the changing environment, and to fight against their neighbours, to carve out and maintain a place.
Encroaching ‘civilisation’ – especially in the form of a giant dam up-stream that is changing the way the river behaves – is putting their whole lifestyle at risk.
This is a different world to the one I live in!
Who knows how much longer their world can survive.
[…] penultimate group we spent time with. I’ve described some of their customs previously (see: Dark Eyes and Layers of Beads). Let’s revisit them before their ways disappear – along with the receding […]ReplyCancel
Uluru from the Hill The hot air sings, the clouds roll, and Uluru stands out on the horizon almost 25 kilometres (15 miles) away from the Imalung Lookout in Yulara, Northern Territory. Even at this distance, it is thrilling! (iPhone6)
It is one of those iconic images: one of the world’s largest monoliths rising out of a sea of gravelly sand, with colours all along the red spectrum, ever changing in the light.
Uluru.
Sacred to the Indigenous Anangu people, this giant sandstone rock formation was said to have been created in the very beginning of time by ancestral heroes (Tjukuritja). According to modern scientific reckoning, Uluru and Kata Tjuta – two significant geological features in the middle of Australia’sRed Centre – started to form about 550-600 million years ago.
My breath caught in my throat every time I looked up and saw it there.
Much as I had always wanted to visit this region, it’s a long way from anywhere: Australia is a BIG place. And, it’s not a cheap trip: it’s been called the most expensive destination in Australia – and Australia is an expensive place to live and travel by world standards. We had always put that trip off: we said we’d go when we were too old to fly overseas…
Then, Covid-19 happened, and the rest of the world was off-limits.
I found a package deal to the Ayers Rock Resort – the easiest way to access Uluru and Kata Tjuta – and managed to fit it in between lock-downs. Owned by the Indigenous Land and Sea Corporation, the resort comprises almost the whole outback town of Yulara, and sits a ten minute drive from the entry to the UNESCO World Heritage-listedUluru-Kata Tjuta (formerly the Uluru (Ayers Rock – Mount Olga)) National Park. The resort works in affiliation with the local Anangu people, as well as hosting training initiatives for Indigenous people from around the country.
Although there are a range of accommodation types in the complex, most of these were not operating when I was there because of the Covid-related slowdown in trade. And, the Anangu Cultural Centre was closed to protect the vulnerable local community from potential infection. (All the Indigenous employees on site were from other parts of the country). Fortunately, the restaurants, shops, galleries, and the Yulara Visitor Centre – home to the local tourism operators – were all operating, allowing me to fill my short stay with a range of activities.
Best of all, several of these activities were on-site, and included in my tariff!
My package included the mesmerising Field of Lights installation, making for a magical introduction to Uluru on arrival. I decided to save my separate sunrise excursions: into the Walpa Gorge at Kata Tjuta, and around the base of Uluru (Watch this space!), until I had acclimatised. So, I booked a sunset camel ride for my second evening, and spent my first full day just exploring the resort and immediate surrounds.
This meant checking out the lookout five minutes from my room; taking in a talk on bush tucker; watching a demonstration of Yidaki, the traditional Aboriginal term for the didgeridoo; and joining a guided walk around the plants in the village.
Join me:
Sails in the Desert The whole resort complex blends in beautifully with the surrounding landscape. (iPhone6)
Sturt’s Desert Pea – Swainsona Formosa Named for the notable explorer of inland Australia, Captain Charles Sturt (1795-1869), Sturt’s Desert Pea is confined to Australia, occurring in arid woodlands and on open plains. I had never seen them in their natural habitat before, and was thrilled to find them in flower.
Footprints in the Red Sand I went for a morning walk around town, and crossed the road to the Imalung Lookout. Clearly, I was not the first to climb the little hill! (iPhone6)
Nature’s Sculpture Bent and twisted trunks of desert oaks (Allocasuarina decaisneana) are littered against the waves of sand. (iPhone6)
Desert Oaks in the Red Centre In the middle of the day, I headed back out to the open area across from the resort, where skinny desert oaks are scattered against the red sands and spinifex.
Desert Oak and a Blue Sky Slow growing Allocasuarina decaisneana trees put their initial energy into a tap-root that can reach subterranean water at depths of over 10 metres (33 ft).
Bush Tucker In the amphitheatre area outside the Arkani Theatre, local food-plants are laid out ahead of the daily IndigenousBush Food Experience.
Ficus Brachypoda – Australian Native Fig
Plant Products Local plants go into things other than foodstuffs – including the shampoos, soaps, and body lotions used all around the resort.
Kurrajong – Brachychiton The seeds of the kurrajong are roasted and eaten or ground up to make flour. The rest of the plant is also used – especially to make rope and twine.
Leon Leon talks us through the local bush foods …
Cooking with Native Flavours … while his companion mixes up a batch of Lemon Myrtle and Wattleseed Shortbread.
In the Amphitheatre Leon talks about the local environment; his companion finds a batch of cookies prepared earlier.
Witchetty Grub and Witchetty Bush (Acacia Kempeana) Probably the best-known bush-tucker is the fat, white, wood-eating larvae of several moths.
Desert Oak and Kata Tjuṯa When I walk back across the resort, the boulders of Kata Tjuṯa are just visible, some 50 kilometres (30 miles) across the plain.
Didgeridoo – Yidaki After lunch, I find the Resort Town Square Lawn Stage, where the twice-daily Didgeridoo Workshop is taking place.
Didgeridoo Player ‘Didgeridoo’ is a non-Aboriginal word for a traditional wind instrument originally from East Arnhem Land in the very north of Australia. Made from naturally occurring termite-hollowed trunks of young eucalyptus trees, the instruments are now common across Aboriginal communities.
Man in Black Using a technique of circular breathing to create a drone, the different sounds are made by continuously vibrating one’s lips.
Garden Walk In the late afternoon, we meet Leon again, and he walks around the complex on one of the Guided Daily Walks, showing us the various plants …
Collecting Seeds … and describing their uses.
White-Plumed Honeyeater – Ptilotula penicillata Leon also identified the birds I found in a desert oak tree.
I loved how the whole resort complex works together with the local environment. This harmony added to my experience of calm while I was in this magical place.
It was time for me to return to my room and get ready to meet my camel for my sunset ride. Even there, the desert colours reminded me where I was.
Walkers on the Camino del Norte This magnificent and dramatic coastline is part of what makes the Camino del Norte a popular Camino de Santiago route.
They call it España Verde – Green Spain: the strip of land between the Bay of Biscay and the Cantabrian Mountains.
Well, some people do. The Spanish more commonly refer to it as the Cornisa Cantábrica – the Cantabrian Coast. Either sobriquet is apt for this wild and beautiful region in Northern Spain. Known for its spectacular cliffs overlooking the Cambrian Sea, its historic and charming towns and cities, and its long sandy beaches, the landscape here is kept lush and green by its wet and temperate oceanic climate.
The Camino del Norte route of the Camino de Santiagoruns along this coastline – 827 km (514 mi) from from San Sebastian to Santiago.
I’m always amused by people who ask if I have walked ‘the Camino‘; el camino is Spanish for “the way” – and there are countless “ways” or trails or pathways throughout Spain. What most people mean is the Camino de Santiago, or the Way of St James, which culminates at the Catedral de Santiago de Compostela in northwest Spain. But even this is not one trail: traditionally, you started your pilgrimage from your home village, so there is a complex network of routes. Today there are nine popular ‘Camino Ways’ of varying lengths that are marketed to walkers: starting in France, Portugal, and various parts of Spain. If you want a ‘Pilgrim Certificate’, you have to walk at least the last 100km into Santiago.
We weren’t being anywhere nearly that ambitious! We were out for an afternoon walk on a very short section of this UNESCO-listed system of walking paths on the eastern side of Asturias – that is, roughly the middle of the Northern Spanish coastline. I was part of a small group studying Spanish at the Peak Me language school in nearby Panes in the mornings, and hiking in the afternoons with a guide from Canoe Adventure Trophy. Because of the rainy autumn weather, we had opted for a walk in the more sheltered woods of the Cambrian Mountains (see: Cicera, Cantabria) the day before.
I had my fingers crossed that the weather would hold as we walked the windswept limestone cliffs above the crashing waters of the Mar Cantábrico to the next town for a civilised drink in the local taberna.
Carretera del Cantábrico We start our walk on a highway just outside La Franca, a popular beach town on the Bay of Biscay.
Rail Line – La Franca Leaving the highway, we cross the rail lines that have been running along side us, …
Heading West … and that, like the pilgrim paths, stretch west to Santiago.
North Coast Rocks We head towards the the boulders and cliffs at the edge of the sea …
Walkers on the Ruta de la Costa … and pick up a section of the Camino del Norte, or the Northern Way. This was a prominent pilgrimage route in the 9th and 10th centuries.
Cows on the Hill The cattle are happy roaming over the verdant hills, and we have to wait for them to clear the narrow footpaths before we can pass.
Wildflowers on the Edge
Walkers on the Cliff The Northern Way has been called the most scenic of the pilgrims’ ways …
Cliffs over the Cantabrian Sea … and it is certainly rugged, …
Waves on the Cliffs … with the waves of the Atlantic pounding below.
Green Cliffs Ahead
Bufón de Santiuste In high seas, water can spout up to 40 metres (130 feet) here. As far as I could ascertain, the Spanish call these spouts ‘jesters’ (bufónes) because of the noise made when the water retreats again.
Houses on the Hill Everything is misty on the hill, and we are never quite sure if it will rain.
Playa de Cobijero The tide is very low, so there is not much water in what is a popular salt-water swimming hole in summer. The limestone cliffs here are riddled with tunnels and caves.
Twisted Trees We turn away from the cliffs, …
Goat on the Wall … and into the picturesque village of Buelna.
Gateway Dark skies and old stones – there is a lot of moody character in these laneways.
Iglesia de Santa Marina Spain has been almost exclusively Catholic since the marriage of Isabella and Ferdinand united the country in 1469, and the formal end of the Reconquista era in 1492.
Under the Tracks The skies have brightened somewhat since our drink-stop, and we make our way back …
Bufón de Santiuste … through the scrubby green at the top of the cliffs.
El Paredón o las Palomas From this angle, we can better appreciate those 38m (125ft) high limestone walls as they fold and layer upon themselves above the sea.
It was not the first time I’ve seen the yellow scallop shells that signal one of the many Camino paths and tributaries, but it was still exciting to find the yellow arrows underfoot, on ground that has been trodden for centuries.
So yes, I have walked on the Camino; I was pleased, however, not to be doing the whole 827 km of this one!
Festival Preparations Getting oneself ready for attendance at a Papua New Guineasing sing takes time and patience. In a dark classroom near the Mount Hagen Showgrounds, a woman from the Western Highlands applies her face paint.
Who hasn’t seen pictures of the colourful festivals in Papua New Guinea, where the seemingly endless array of tribal groups demonstrate their unique costumes, songs, dances, and elements of culture?
These festivals are are known as sing sings in Tok Pisin, the creole that allows tribal people from 850 distinct language groups to communicate with each other across Papua New Guinea. Sing sings are cross-tribal gatherings that enable groups to showcase their distinct cultural, dance, and musical traditions. They started as a replacement for tribal warfare: to foster cross-cultural understanding and to celebrate diversity. These days, however, the focus of the larger festivals is on attracting tourist dollars. Even so, they allow communities to pass on age-old traditions to the younger generation and help to preserve unique facets of culture that might otherwise be lost.
One of the best known of these shows is the Mount Hagen Sing Sing Festival which takes place every August high in the mountainous Western Highlands province of Papua New Guinea, and attracts almost 100 performing groups from around the country. I attended this sing sing some years ago now, before international travel was stopped in its tracks by Covid-19. I was travelling in the country with photographer Karl Grobl from Jim Cline Photo Tours, and a small group of photography enthusiasts.
One of the things I love about travelling with groups focussed on photography is that they tend to take more time in each location, permitting you to step ‘behind the scenes’ and to connect more with the local population. This was certainly the case on this trip: we had arrived in Mount Hagen a few days before the festival got underway, and had spent a couple of days meeting and photographing unique tribal groups at a village nearby (see: Wanders – Paiya Village). And, on the days of the Mount Hagen Sing Sing, we travelled to the site early, giving us time to interact with dancers and their entourages before they went ‘on stage’. On the second day of the show, I found my way into a school grounds, where a number of troupes were gathered.
August is the ‘dry season’ in the Highlands. But, this is tropical jungle country: it is hot and humid any time of year, and the rains will fall without notice.
And they did!
Join me as I shelter in dark classrooms, trying to capture environmental portraits in the rare patches of light:
Around the Cooking Pot Visitors to the school outside the fairgrounds seem to have set up camp very effectively: you can just see the flames under the big cooking pot here.
Mother and Child
Child on the Steps People are dotted all around, outside, in the school grounds …
Face Painting … and inside, in the dark classrooms where they are getting ready.
Smiling Western Highlands Woman The women are happy to take time out from their preparations …
Headdress and Shell Necklace … to have their pictures taken in the hot, dark, school rooms.
Western Highlands Woman Every small locality in the Western Highlands has its own tribal groups – with slightly different costumes – …
“Kunai Brothers Culture Group” … but shells, bird feathers and bird parts, and beads, are common elements across most of them.
Kunai Brother’s Man Groups from neighbouring villages have different headdresses …
Kunai Brother’s Red … and face paint styles.
Smiling Man – Kunai Brother Culture Group These men, whose hats and face paint bore a resemblance to some I’d seen the day before, were getting ready on the school veranda.
Dancing in the Room Meanwhile, back in a classroom, some Western Highlands women were rehearsing.
In the Rain August might be one of the coolest months in the Western Highlands, but average maximums are still 27°C (80°F). It is not rainy season, but humidity is almost 90%, and rain is more likely than not. While we are watching the festival preparations, the skies open up, and people take shelter.
Child in the Doorway Many of the school buildings are unfinished – but they still provide shelter from the cloudburst.
Man in the Doorway Common tribal jewellery includes pig tusks and a variety of seashells.
Decrepit Van Much of the school grounds have a tumble-down feel to them, but at least the rains have cooled things off outside – temporarily. (iPhone6)
Women Helping Each Other Inside, it is hot and crowded. It is as if every community in the surrounding hills has its own cultural performance group, and as if each of these groups has found their own niche in the school buildings.
Girl at a Window The only light in the classrooms comes slanting through the windows.
Young Woman Smoking In another room, women in headdresses made of feathers, fur, and shells, are smoking, chatting, and playing cards.
Highland Woman This group’s headdresses were quite distinctive. Although vegetation is a common costume element, for example: in crimped grass skirts; moss-filled headdresses; and decorative leaves in armbands; this hat made of overlapped layered leaves was in a style I didn’t see from any other tribe.
Old Man in a Hat Inside another classroom, there is light coming in through one of the louvre windows. The locals in the room take turns posing next to this window for me.
Young Man in Feathers and Face Paint
Highlands Woman Face tattoos are still common among women here. As far as I could establish, the patterns are purely aesthetic.
Western Highland Couple in Traditional Costume
Young Highland Woman
Highland Woman and Baby
Western Highlander in Profile There is a painted face in every dark corner getting ready for their performance.
It is time to move across to the festival grounds, and to catch some of these performers in action.
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
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Truly, like another world.
[…] I was visiting a friend who lives part of the year in this magnificent area. We had explored the South Tufa Area of the lake, with its otherworldly tufa towers of limestone rising out of the salty waters the evening before (see: Evening over the Tufa Towers). […]