Kara Man in Face Paint The Kara in Ethiopia’s Omo Valley love their jewellery and body art. Men have their left ears notched after initiation and wear special clay caps when they have killed a dangerous animal or an enemy from another tribe.
With about 1400 individuals living across three villages, the Kara are the smallest discrete ethnic group in Ethiopia’s Omo Valley.
They are closely related to the Benna-Bashada-Hamar group and share many linguistic features and cultural practices with these tribes. For example, their young men take part in the Bula, or Pilla, or Bull-jumping ceremony: jumping over the backs of a row of cattle several times in a row to mark their coming of age (see: Coming of Age in a Hamar Village). The women’s skirts and hairstyles resemble those of the Hamar, and the men in both tribes use clay to construct their elaborate headdresses to signify their status, attractiveness, and bravery.
Some stories say that at one time the Kara were connected with the Hamar, but the two tribes migrated in different directions: the Hamar – whom the Kara call “mountain dwellers” – moved up onto the hills in search of better lands and pastures, and the Kara moved downstream towards the Omo River; Kara means “fish” in the local language. The two groups maintain a symbiotic trade relationship.
This is not the case with the more aggressive and more numerous Nilo-Saharan speaking Nyangatom who live on the other side of the river – on lands the Kara say were once theirs. Inter-generational tribal conflicts have continued for decades, and include cattle rustling and bloody battles. Every self-respecting Kara man owns an AK-47.
The Kara are probably best known for their decorative face- and body-painting in chalk and ochre. I’ve shared some pictures of the tribal and their remote village before (see: Visits to a Kara Village).
Come meet a few more of these fascinating people!
Grass Shelter on the Omo Dus Village, the largest of the three Kara villages, sits on the east bank of the beautiful Omo River Valley.
Elder and the Ceremony House Only initiated men are allowed into this open structure where the men discuss tribal matters and make community decisions.
Old Man in Silhouette
Young Man in Profile
Warrior in Feathers and Beads The clay skullcaps that the men wear attached to their hair can take up to three days to construct and need to be replaced after three-to-six months. The men are allowed to wear them for up to a year after a kill to celebrate their bravery.
Men in Body Paint I’ve posted a similar picture of these men previously (Visits to a Kara Village) because I like how they show the contrasting styles of body-patterns in use.
Almost Abstract : Body Paint The Kara paint themselves daily, building up their preferred design in white chalk, coloured ochre, yellow mineral rock, charcoal, and/or pulverised iron ore.
Time and Focus Men and women alike love layers of beads. I didn’t see any mirrors: …
Young Women Face Painting … I did see a lot of people painting each other.
Bottom Lip Incision It is not uncommon for Kara women, men, and even children, to wear a nail, a stick, or a piece of grass sticking out of their chin through an incision made under their bottom lip.
Spurting Liquid It is also not uncommon to see people expelling liquid through this incision.
Dus Woman with a Gourd Calabash gourds are common utensils in the village.
Woman Preparing Sorghum Women and children sit in the dirt, going about their daily chores.
Hand in the Sorghum Kara are primarily an agriculture-based society, growing sorghum, corn, pumpkin, and beans – some of which they trade with the Hamar.
Hands in the Sorghum Sorghum is a versatile grain, and is a dietary staple for the Kara.
Woman and Child Sorghum is cooked into the daily porridge, using milk or water. It is also fermented to produce the local beer.
Still Life Found : Clay Pots on the Ground
Men in Red All over the world, young men love their sporting gear.
Smiling Ethiopian Man That smile! And those distinctive Ethiopian curls.
Women and Children All around the village, women and their children gather in groups.
Boys outside the Bar Meanwhile, a group of young men is gathered with their beers outside one of the community buildings. It is barely seven thirty in the morning!
Still Life Found : Bowl and Bales
Mother and Child Flowers and grass are inserted into lip and ears, …
Woman with Flowers … or tucked into headbands.
Warrior Ostrich feathers are a finishing touch to the warriors’ clay skullcaps.
Elegant Woman in a Hut How I wished I could have had a proper conversation with some of these women! (Off-Camera Flash)
Mother and Infant in a Hut The huts are hot and dark, even in the mid-morning, and there is not much in the way of “belongings” inside. (Off-Camera Flash)
Young Woman in a Hut This is another face I’ve shared before (Visits to a Kara Village): I just loved her solemn expression. (Off-Camera Flash)
Woman in Spots There is a cheeky flirtatiousness in some of these expressions; I can’t help but wonder what these women think as they meet our gaze.
As the smallest tribal group, the Kara have learned to negotiate trade – and peaceful co-existence – with their more-numerous neighbours.
They are also trading with us: marketing their unique appearance for small handfuls of tourist dollars.
I can’t help but wonder how much of their cultural heritage they can preserve into the future.
And, I wonder what they actually think about it all!
[…] Our camp was close to Dus Village, the largest of three Kara villages in Ethiopia; the majority of Kara people live in South Sudan or the Central African Republic. Some of the villagers helped around the camp, or sat in the shade, engaging in their beading or face- and body-painting. This added to my feeling of being in the middle of things. Our location also meant we were able to visit the village a number of times, and therefore could spend time with the locals as they went about their daily lives (see: Visits to a Kara Village and The Kara of Dus Village). […]ReplyCancel
[…] side of the Omo River – on lands the Kara say were once theirs. As I have written before (see: The Kara of Dus Village), inter-tribal conflicts have continued for generations. Men need to show their ability to […]ReplyCancel
Oil Lamps and a Peacock Feather On the night of the Māgha Pūjā full moon, a Tibetan monk and a Buddhist devotee light oil lamps against the darkness over Boudha Stupa in Kathmandu, Nepal.
Candlelight is a powerful symbol in many spiritual practices around the world.
In Christianity, the candle stands for light and the spirit of truth in the darkness of life; in Hinduism, light is a strong symbol of hope and prosperity; in Buddhism, burning candles evoke the state of impermanence and change, and represent the enlightenment of the Buddha. In some meditation practices, candle flames are used to focus attention and quiet the mind.
Candlelight is calming by its very nature. Even in secular communities, candles are lit to set an atmosphere of quiet. I always think of them this time of year as I contemplate life, while one calendar year slips into the next.
Some years ago, I was in Nepal as part of a photographic group with travel photographer Gavin Gough and photojournalist Jack Kurtz. Our principal accommodation was within a short walk of the UNESCO-listedBoudhanath (or BouddhaStupa), one of the largest Buddhist stupas in the world. I took the opportunity to visit this magnificent place many times during my stay (e.g.: Prayers in the Eyes of the Buddha and Light a Candle) and never ceased to marvel at it – or at the devotion of the many pilgrims who visited at all hours of the day and night.
Our trip to Nepal was timed to take in Holi, the joyful Hindu festival of colours, which takes place on the full-moon evening of the month of Phalguna or Phalgun on the Hindu calendar (see: Joy among the Ruins).
Full moons are celebrated across many religious traditions, and that particular full moon also marked Māgha Pūjā, the second most important festival on the Theravada Buddhist calendar, and Chötrul Düchen, one of the four major observances on the Tibetan Buddhist calendar. In both cases, the dates are said to correspond with significant events in the life of the Buddha, and the rituals involve the lighting of lamps.
So, naturally, Buddhist pilgrims had come from all over to circumambulate the sacred stupa, pay their respects, offer up prayers, and light oil lamps – all under the watchful eyes of Boudhanath.
Join me in some quiet reflection as we end a year that has been extremely challenging for most of us.
Boudhanath in the Last Sun The eyes of the Boudha Stupa are watchful as the narrow laneways darken in the afternoon light.
Filling Oil Lamps In the approach to the temple entrance, trestle tables are full of burning lamps that people have lit on their way in.
Lamp Seller People are happy to take a moment out to smile for the visitors.
Tending the Oil Lamps The attendants keep an eye on the process, moving spent lamps for refilling.
Prayers Once you light your lamp, you can make your prayers – for yourself or for others.
Crowd around the Stupa In the early evening, the grounds are already crowded. Pilgrims to the stupa typically circumambulate clockwise three times while praying and chanting. Each circuit is roughly 150 metres (164 yards).
Bonfire Sparks fly from a bonfire outside one of the side temples.
Profile in Candle Light Although candle light plays havoc with camera settings, I love the soft glow is casts on people’s faces.
Two Women in Candle Light
Lights on the Stupa As darkness envelopes us, the lights come on around the 36 metre-high (118 ft) stupa.
Woman Lighting Lamps There is a steady hum of noise from the chanting pilgrims around the stupa, but the mood is quiet.
Couple Lighting Lamps
Dad Lighting Lamps Everyone is warmly dressed against the cold of an early spring night.
Friends around the Flames
Buddhist Monk Lighting Candles
Candlelit Smile No one seems remotely disturbed by the presence of me and my cameras.
A Peacock Feather in the Oil The peacock represents purity and long life or immortality in Buddhism. The feathers are often used in purification ceremonies.
Lighting Lamps
Lights in his Eyes
Namaste Prayers
The Eyes of the Bouddha There is soft illumination on the stupa, putting a mesmerising glow in those iconic eyes.
Meeting the Monk A woman namastes one of the many monks in the surrounds. After living in Thailand for so long, I don’t pass one without doing the same.
Boudhanath under Lights The stupa is quite beautiful with its coloured garlands and soft floodlights …
Full Moon over Boudhanath … and the Māgha Pūjā moon rises in the background.
This year’s December full moon has just passed, and January 2021 is upon us. May you light a candle against the darkness –
Uluru in a Field of Light That eternal ancient rock in the middle of Australia seems to rise from a sea of ephemeral, ever-changing lights.
When I was a child, one of my favourite Christmas activities was to get into the car at night, wrapped up in blankets against the cold, and drive out to the more affluent suburbs and gaze in wonder at the elaborate displays of festive lights. These lights were especially magical against the winter snows.
It was customary – almost obligatory – that every house be decorated from mid-November through early January, and it was only the lazy householder who didn’t take the lights down and store them carefully between seasons! Those were the days before LED lighting: every string could be rendered dark by a single blown bulb, and every bulb was expensive. At our house, a single strand followed the roof gutters of our bungalow, but in the “rich end” of town, neighbours competed for the best displays – the most spectacular of which made it into the local newspapers. Some of the lights even blinked on and off in unison! Santa Clauses and lawn snowmen were not uncommon, and I even recall the occasional manger scenes, complete with live donkeys.
These days, with LED faerie lights and solar power, garden lighting is not necessarily reserved for Christmas – but it was those nights with my nose pressed to a cold, foggy car window that I though of as I watched more than 50,000 coloured lights slowly come to life in a large field near Uluru, the geographical middle and spiritual heart of Australia.
Even without the lights, that distinctive 500 million year-old monolith, rising up out of the flat plains in the Northern Territory’s Red Centre, was enough to make the hairs on my neck stand up. It was exactly that incredible feeling of energy surrounding this sacred rock that inspired the English/Australian artist Bruce Munro with the idea for the ambitious Field of Light immersive installation. First opened to the public on April 1, 2016, the network of frosted glass bulbs and the optical fibres radiating from them, covers an area “the size of nine football fields” – or four, depending on whom you read, or your code of football I guess.
Although the installation was meant to be temporary, after critical acclaim and popular response, it has been extended more than once: it is currently slated to close on 31 December 2021 – but who knows?
Jetstar A320 on the Tarmac It is a big country: the flight from Sydney to Yulara takes three and a half hours. In a year of fires, floods, and Covid-19 lock-down, it felt exciting to be going anywhere! (iPhone6)
Uluru from the Transfer Bus The short bus ride from the Connellan Airport to the Ayers Rock Resort complex takes 8 1/2 minutes “except in rush hour” the driver told us. I was so overwhelmed by my first sighting of the rock that I almost cried! (iPhone6)
Sunset over the Rock Later in the evening, we are welcomed to a viewing area with Indigenous-inspired bush-tucker canapés and sparkling wine. Those spindly-looking trees amongst the spinifex grass humps are desert oaks (allocasuarina decaisneana).
Evening at the Rock I had packed my tripod just for this: sunset over the rock, with the unlit globes white, like tiny mushrooms in the foreground.
Last Light over Uluru The colours of the landscape change from one minute to the next.
Watching the Rock Even with soft chatter, there is a feeling of quiet as the sun goes down. It is windy – and colder than I expected.
Lights coming On As the ambient light recedes, the bulbs in the field come to life.
Field of Light Munro calls this exhibition Tili Wiru Tjuta Nyakutjaku, which means ‘looking at lots of beautiful lights’ in the local Pitjantjatjara language.
In the Field Soon, Uluru disappears completely, and we follow guide lighting down to the installation itself.
Light the Way The paths are clearly marked and easy to follow, …
Guide Light … and the guide lamps are beautiful in their own right.
Lights in the Field Watching the undulating waves of colour change across the field …
The Blues … is just mesmerising.
Arteries of Light
Leading Lights The network of optical fibre connections seem to pulsate as the changing colours flow through them.
[…] the area, so I booked myself into a range of activities (see: A Camel Ride into the Red Centre and The Field of Light). On my second morning, I got up pre-dawn to join the SEIT Kata Tjuta tour, which includes a […]ReplyCancel
[…] the day of my arrival, I wandered through the Field of Lights. The next day, I explored the resort, taking in a talk on bush tucker and other activities (Watch […]ReplyCancel
[…] package included the mesmerising Field of Lights installation, making for a magical introduction to Uluru on arrival. I decided to save my separate […]ReplyCancel
In the Tree Tops Singapore Zoo is as renowned for its orangutans as it is for its rainforest jungle environment and ‘open concept’ design.
I love a good zoo – and Singapore Zoo is one of the best.
I know there are ethical concerns around keeping animals in captivity, and I’ve talked about these before (see: A Tale of Two Tarongas). Singapore Zoo ticks all the positive boxes: it actively works towards wildlife protection and conservation of biodiversity, it focuses on actual and virtual education projects, it has adopted sustainable consumption practices, and it prides itself on world-class animal care and welfare.
Originally called the Singapore Zoological Gardens or Mandai Zoo, Singapore Zoo is particularly beautiful. First opened in 1973, it benefited from modern planning and a substantial original grant from the Government of Singapore. It is set into 28 hectares of lush rainforest, and features naturalistic, ‘open’ exhibits. The barriers – often featuring moats and glass – between the animals and visitors are designed to be unobtrusive. It is like being in a giant aviary: lemurs wander freely, and orangutans and gibbons swing high above the ground from tree to tree and through overhanging wines and ropes, while the visitors watch from below.
We were there to have breakfast with the orangutans. This was the second time I’d visited the zoo and had arrived early for what they call: Jungle Breakfast with Wildlife. The first time we went, several years before, the orangutans were having a month off as part of their animal welfare program, so we missed meeting them. In the intervening years, we had actually visited a colony of semi-wild orangutans in Gunung Leuser National Park, North Sumatra (see: Meet the Locals). But, I was still eager to check out the zoo again – and you have to breakfast somewhere, right?
Modern zoos try to approximate natural habitats, and to help animals simulate instinctive behaviours they would use in the wild. This is most obvious at feeding times. As much as we were able, after we (and the orangutans) had breakfasted, we followed the keeper-talk and animal-feeding times around the zoo. This made the animals more interesting and entertaining to watch. I also loved the unique glass enclosures – especially when combined with water – and the way they added an added dimension to photographic challenges.
I walked around the zoo with the dual goals of enjoying the animals in their pseudo-natural environments, and of making pictures that I thought interesting or artistic. I ended up with so many photos, that I’ve split the file in two.
Do join me for part one:
Mother and Child in the Tree Tops From the minute you enter the park, you can spot animals free-ranging through the tree tops.
Orangutan in the Trees The orangutans know it is breakfast time, and they make their way into the feeding platform.
Eye Contact It is so easy to feel a connection with these beautiful, gentle creatures.
Orangutangs Watching them interact with each other is lovely.
Focus on the Hand
Orangutan Eating
Those Expressions!
Young Sumatran Orangutan It is anthropomorphising, but those long gangly arms and expressive hands give the animals an insouciant look.
Picking Seeds They have such manual dexterity. I loved watching their concentration as they cracked their sunflower seeds.
Almost Abstract: Polar Bear Swimming Our first stop after breakfast was at the Frozen Tundra – which I found stunningly beautiful.
Polar Bear in a Waterfall The glass barrier allows a wonderful split view of the enclosure, …
Around the Polar Pool … and elevated platforms allow you to look down over the icy pool.
Mickey Mouse Plant – Ochna Serrulata Back out in the heat of the tropics, colourful plants are all around …
Yellow-Cheeked Gibbon – Nomascus Gabriellae … and monkeys swing in the trees overhead.
Babirusa Under the tree-top gibbons, a wildly improbable-looking male babirusa, also called a deer-pig or pig-deer, shows off his crazy tusks. Listed as threatened, they are native to nearby Indonesian islands.
Oriental Small-Clawed Otter – Amblonyx Cinerea These were my favourites! The smallest member of the otter family, the Asian small-clawed otter is a feisty little thing with sharp teeth and partially webbed feet. I spent ages watching their antics.
Oriental Small-Clawed Otters – Amblonyx Cinerea Native to South and Southeast Asia, they live in extended family groups.
Otter Enclosure The otter complex gives the animals plenty of varied terrain for running and swimming. I thought the glass and the water made for interesting reflections and layers.
Almost Abstract: Water and Glass The otters are almost invisible as they whizz around their waters. (ISO800 21mm f/2.8 1/30sec)
Feeding Time In the wild, Asian small-clawed otters live in mangrove swamps and wetlands, and feed on on molluscs, crabs and other small aquatic animals.
Pole Dance To keep their minds engaged, the zoo animals have to prise their food out of a bamboo pipe.
Whiskers They seem to be helping each other as they extract their breakfast from the tube.
One and Half Turtles All around the zoo, I found myself fascinated by the split images created by water and glass.
Hippo Dreaming Distorted reflections put people in with the animals they have come to see.
Feeding the Black Howler Monkeys Monkeys are always a joy to watch – and they were clearly eager for their fruit.
Black Howler Monkey I couldn’t resist a few portraits! Howler monkeys have been called the loudest animals on earth. The males are only ever quiet when sleeping, or like this one, distracted by food.
Bliss! A female black howler monkey enjoys her watermelon.
Patas Monkey – Erythrocebus Patas
Douc Langur The wonderfully colourful grey-shanked douc langur is critically endangered in its native Vietnam.
Keeper Anne The animal talks were engaging and informative.
Javan Langur
Javan Langur
It was Chinese New Year when we visited, and it was the Year of the Monkey – so it seems only apt that I end this set here, with some of the gentle and intelligent faces in the Primate Kingdom exhibit.
How lucky it is for us that these animals have such a beautiful space, where they are protected against the incursions of the modern world against their wild habitats, and still accessible to us.
[…] I have visited the zoo twice; the first time was back in the days of film, and when I was not yet used to the tropics. Aside from the fact that I was introduced to a python instead of an orangutan at the Jungle Breakfast with Wildlife, I don’t remember much about it. For my second visit, years later, I made sure the orangutans would be in attendance before I booked our breakfast tickets (see: Hands, Teeth, and Almost Abstract). […]ReplyCancel
Sunset on the Nile The Middle East is the birthplace of the major Abrahamic religions, and it is no surprise that symbols important in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam abound. Our Nile riverboat featured a hamsa or khamsah: a hand with the fingers spread apart to ward off evil; with a star and crescent, representing Islam, off the thumb; and crowned by the word “Allah” in Arabic.
You could be nowhere else…
The songs of Imams on the hot, heavily scented air, are calling you to prayer. The hawkers and beggars lining the streets are noisily entreating you into the bustling markets. The tourist boats rafted on the river are enjoining you to travel back to colonial times …
A Nile riverboat, chugging upstream from Luxor to Aswan in Egypt, was my home for four nights. As I sat on the upper deck with a late afternoon G&T, watching the sun go down over the palm trees and settlements along the banks, I felt transported into another era. I only needed a pith helmet or a long cigarette holder to take my place as an extra in an Agatha Christie story. There is something vaguely disorienting about being in a place that is at once so foreign, and – thanks to movies and books – so familiar.
After a morning spent exploring Karnak Temple (see: In Worship of Ancient Gods), I had just enough time to wander some of the market streets in Luxor before our boat set sail. I’ve said it before: I love markets. They give the visitor a glimpse into the real, everyday-world of a place.
Photographically, markets are always difficult in terms of their lack of light and space, but that is part of the challenge and the fun! What always surprises me is people’s willingness to have a cheerful exchange with someone who doesn’t speak their language, and to have their pictures made for no reward other than a smile and a shukraan lak.
The Nile River has a mythology all its own. Nicknamed “the father of African rivers,” it is held to be responsible for the development of Egyptian civilisation. Herodotus (c. 484 – 425/413 BCE), who is called the father of history, wrote that “Egypt was the gift of the Nile”. Every year the river would flood, overflowing its banks and depositing new layers of nutrient-rich silt. This made the lands either side of the river very fertile, allowing the Ancient Egyptians to become rich from their agriculture. They paid tribute to Hapi, the God of the annual floods, and their calendar followed the river’s three seasons: Akhet (June-September), the flood season, Peret (October-February), the growing season, and Shemu (March-May), the harvest season.
Join me on a 30 million-year-old waterway, where time loses meaning.
Fruit Seller In spite of the heat, the crowded spaces, and the noise, most of what I see in Luxor is fresh and clean.
“The Best Bread” There is nothing like freshly baked loaves, hot out of an oven! It smelled as good as it tasted.
Live Birds Stuffed pigeon is a delicacy in Egypt; the birds are specially bred for market.
Woman in Black The vendors are smiling and welcoming – even though they know I’m not likely to buy anything.
Market Corner From fruit to fresh fish: all manner of foods are on display on the streets.
Fish Sales Of course, chatting and bargaining is a big part of the social heart of any market.
Persimmons
Man in the Laneway
Fabric Store Shopkeepers It is dark in the narrow streets and crowded shops – but nothing could dim the light of these two delightful young men. (iPhone6)
Portrait of an Egyptian Shopkeeper
Women’s Clothing All the sales-people seem to be men – even the attendant at this tightly packed women’s clothing store! Note the colourful bras hanging on display.
Women in Black Abayas There are plenty of women shopping, however, and they leave the market with loads piled on their heads.
Bridge over the Nile As our riverboat pulls out, we get a nice view of Luxor Bridge and its decorated pylons. (iPhone6)
On the Nile Simple brick housing complexes and palm trees slide past as we make our way south, up-river.
Riverboats on the Nile The river is full of ships – some adding greatly to the haze and pollution in the air. We are all heading the 53 kilometres (about 33 miles) up-river to Esna. There we will all have to wait – possibly for hours – for our turn through the locks. It is still shoulder season, and tour operators say they haven’t fully recovered from the aftermath of the Arab Spring. This leads me to wonder how busy and polluted this area must be in a good high season!
Twilight on the Nile The afternoon draws to a close and the riverboats continue.
Upper Deck of a Riverboat Our boat is time-worn and comfortably shabby around the edges, but sunset bathes the upper deck, disguising the badly-laid artificial grass that passes for carpet.
Sunset on the Palms As our boat slips into night, we are called down to dinner, where we are served by liveried staff. Once again, I feel as if I’m living in a dream or an old movie.
Being on the water has that soporific effect – especially on a timeless river like the Nile.
Lucky, really, as it was well after dark when we reached the Esna Locks and we did wait several hours before making our way through.
[…] started my day at Edfu, after sailing up from Luxor the day before (see: Luxor Bazaar and the Mighty Nile). We’d spent the day chugging up-river, watching the banks with their rich farming lands and […]ReplyCancel
- 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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[…] Our camp was close to Dus Village, the largest of three Kara villages in Ethiopia; the majority of Kara people live in South Sudan or the Central African Republic. Some of the villagers helped around the camp, or sat in the shade, engaging in their beading or face- and body-painting. This added to my feeling of being in the middle of things. Our location also meant we were able to visit the village a number of times, and therefore could spend time with the locals as they went about their daily lives (see: Visits to a Kara Village and The Kara of Dus Village). […]
[…] side of the Omo River – on lands the Kara say were once theirs. As I have written before (see: The Kara of Dus Village), inter-tribal conflicts have continued for generations. Men need to show their ability to […]