According to the guide books, the Mursi people have “an aggressive reputation”.
This fierce reputation is probably what helps them maintain their cultural traditions and their animist practices in the face of the “artificial” geographic boundaries enforced by the Ethiopian state, the tensions between themselves and other tribes, and the onslaught of modern tourism.
That reputation, and their inaccessibility.
Tucked into about 1900 square kilometres of land between the Mago and Omo Rivers, the roughly 7,500 Nilo-Saharan Mursi arrived in their remote corner of southwestern Ethiopia after a series of migrations in search of a “cool place” (bha lalini) for their families and their cattle. To visit their village, I had climbed into a Toyota Land Cruiser at 4.30am to undertake the bumpy drive from Jinka, across Mago National Park, and into Mursi territory.
Four-thirty in the morning is not my favourite hour. But, we were on a Piper Mackayphotographic tour under the direction of photographer Ben McRae, and we wanted to catch the light and beat the “tourists”. Depending on the weather, the state of the gravel, and the number of heavy sugar trucks on the road, the journey can take up to two and a half hours. As it happened, the roads had greatly improved, so our Grand Holidays Ethiopia Tours & Travelvehicles got us there in an hour and a half, and we arrived before the sun (or the Mursi tribe) was up.
According to our trip notes, the Mursi are among the most dramatic tribes to photograph, but also the most challenging. I found the whole concept of “pay-for-click” tourism confronting (I’ll come back to discuss this more some other time), but this was our last day in the tribal regions, so I had toughened up and felt ready for almost anything. This cloak of confidence made me proof against extortion: if you are not careful, the price per photograph can double in the course of an hour!
The Mursi are a tall, good-looking people, but part of their pull for tourists is the unique (shared with their cousins the Suri) habit the women have of wearing lip plugs. Back in 2004, anthropologist David Turton was already writing about the tension between outsiders’ attraction to the Mursi to “see” and photograph the the women’s lip plates, and the visitors’ simultaneous revulsion by them. Shauna LaTosky, as part of her doctoral field research into the Mursi, was going to look at the impact of tourism, but turned her study around – and instead examined the significance and meaning of the lip plates to the Mursi women themselves, and how they have taken advantage of the tourists’ fascination to generate income.
There are no easy answers to the questions raised when traditional cultures rub up against modern ways.
I tried to engage with the villagers and to “chat” with them. But, they are very used to the pay-per-shot (or per-shoot, if you are lucky) model, and just clamoured for “Photo! Photo! Photo!”
So, I payed my money and made my pictures.
Sleeping Village When we arrive at the Mursi Village, it is still quiet. Some fires are smoking, and plastic bottles from the day before litter the ground.
Woman in Warthog Tusks Both men and women can wear the heavy headdresses of braided twine, metal rings and warthog tusks. They also love chunks of heavy metal on their necklaces. Babies – and flies – are everywhere.
Face Paint and Lip Plates Traditionally, Mursi girls wear skin skirts, and women receive a second skin (of goat or lesser kudu) to go over one shoulder after they give birth to their first child. Today, most wear a cloth or blanket, with the skins saved for special ritual occasions. The women wear lots of bracelets and elaborate headdresses – this one of cloth and cow horns – but apparently the face paint is an artifice for the tourists. The women’s most distinguishing feature, of course, is the lip plate. The first incision is made in their lower lips at age 15 or 16, and the lip is stretched out over larger and larger plugs over the next several months. They are not obliged to wear lip plugs, but, as those without them are considered unlucky, ungraceful, impatient and lazy, it is hard to see how girls could resist the social pressure!
Face Paint, Beads, Horns and a Lip Plate To me, the lip plates look horrendously uncomfortable (the practice has been compared with the wearing of high heels), but the Mursi say it gives a woman a graceful, pleasing gait.
Man with a Gun The Omo Valley is ruled by cattle raiders, local rituals, and revenge killings: young men earn their scarification “stripes” by killing their enemies. Surprisingly, I was more alarmed by the cavalier handling of the automatic weapons that are everywhere in the villages than I was afraid of being an intentional target. While guns are cheap, bullets are expensive – and dispatching tourists is bad for repeat business!
Young Woman with Scarification Body art in the Mursi tribe includes extensive scarification: boys get markings on their left shoulder as they pass into manhood; young women get designs across their chests and arms, and then – as I said above – there are special markings for enemies dispatched. All these traditional markings translate into tourist dollars – as demonstrated by the Ethiopianbirr tucked into this young woman’s bracelets.
Old Woman in a Headdress This woman’s headdress of bundled grasses trimmed with metal rings and adorned with warthog tusks and animal hair fascinated me. Traditionally, widows do not put their lip plates in – although they sometimes make exceptions when it comes to making money from tourists.
I’m a bit overwhelmed by the number of photos I have come away with. Images of heat, flies, dust, and a culture very different from my own, crowd my brain.
The Mursi truly are an amazing people! I’ll return to the many photos that resulted from that day’s shooting some other time.
[…] remaining tribes to continue to wear lip plates: I’ve shared pictures of these before (see: Meet the Mursi). According to accounts, Mursi men engage in ritualised violence in the form of ceremonial stick […]ReplyCancel
[…] tourism, and have posted some of the pictures I “bought” in this Mursi village (see: The Mursi and Mursi Men). One of the biggest problems I had was the transactional nature of the exchanges, […]ReplyCancel
[…] of the deliberately underexposed pictures I made of the Mursi people in very bright light (see: Meet the Mursi); I also wanted to work with whited-out backgrounds, and get more practice with off-camera […]ReplyCancel
Robert Plant Robert Plant and the Sensational Space Shifters take to the Byron Bay Bluesfest stage and fill the tent with glorious sound – sound that transports me back to my youth and the heady days of Led Zeppelin, and then delivers me into a future of world music, country, and electronica.
If there is a single problem with the annual Easter-weekend Bluesfest music festival in Byron Bay, it is deciding what to miss out on!
It is hard not have “music envy”. Every year that I attend, there are headliners that I have to forfeit. Or there are the days or years that I don’t go at all – and then when the line-up is announced, I have to quell my envy of all those lucky listeners who are there.
The list of people I’ve missed is long, but the acts I’ve enjoyed – the big names and the lesser-known – have left me sated every year that I’ve attended (see: Ursula’s Weekly Wanders: Bluesfest Byron Bay). This year, I sacrificed seeing Lionel Richie because I was too busy enjoying a favourite of mine: Michael Franti and Spearhead.
You really have to pick and choose – but, in the end, it’s all great music!
Juanes I might not have recognised his name or music before Bluesfest this year, but Juan Estebán Aristizábal Vásquez, known as Juanes, is one of the two biggest pop stars out of Colombia – the other being Shakira.
Michael Franti Filming Juanes Clearly he has fans outside the Spanish-speaking community. Michael Franti, a performer I’ve loved since first hearing him on late-night radio in the early 90s, attended Juanes’ set and filmed one of the songs on his phone …
Michael Franti in the Audience … before turning to chat with others in the VIP area.
Robert Plant That voice! It still sends chills up and down my spine. Robert Plant is one of those performers I couldn’t bear to miss: I attended a Led Zeppelin concert in Vancouver back in the 1970’s and a Jimmy Page & Robert Plant concert in Sydney some 25 years later.
Robert Plant and the Sensational Space Shifters Although he and his Sensational Space Shifters played fewer of my Led Zeppelin favourites than they did when I last saw them at Bluesfest in 2013 (see: Singing the Blues), Plant’s presence has lost none of it’s commanding swagger. I could learn to love his new material almost as much.
Jackson Browne We last saw Jackson Browne playing his countless old hits – and his new music – at Bluesfest 2016 (see: From Buskers to Big Bands). Once again the tent was packed.
Sound Man Unable to get anywhere near the stage, I contented myself watching the sound engineers at work while listening to the familiar tunes.
Seal Bluesfest constantly stretches boundaries: the English soul and R&B singer and songwriter Seal is not someone I associate with “the Blues”.
Seal With lilting, lyrical melodies, lushly orchestrated harmonies, and a charismatic stage presence: …
“Kiss From A Rose” … Seal transported me – and the rest of the audience – away.
Melissa Etheridge Legendary rocker Melissa Etheridge exuded energy from one end of her set to the other. We enjoyed her as much as when we saw her at Bluesfest in 2016 (see: From Buskers to Big Bands).
Sheryl Crow This year, this was the performer I was waiting for! Sheryl Crow’smusic was a huge part of my middle-adulthood; …
Sheryl Crow … I can’t tell you how many hours Tuesday Night Music Club played on repeat on my bedroom CD player!
Sheryl Crow Once described by Rolling Stone as relishing the role of a “grizzled road warrior”, Crow performed her extensive repertoire with ease and a down-to-earth simplicity.
Sheryl Crow I love that she’s wearing a Debbie Harry“Blondie” shirt – a tribute to another brilliant female singer.
Chic The disco-funk ensemble Nile Rodgers & Chic was an absolute crowd pleaser: the tent was one big disco party, packed with smiling people of all ages dancing and singing along to hits from the 70s like Le Freak and Good Times.
Michael Franti It was getting late on the last festival day when Michael Franti and Spearhead took to the stage.
Michael Franti and J Bowman
Carl Young – Spearhead
Michael Franti in the Crowd It’s not long before Michael is off the stage and working his way through the packed audience.
In the Crowd It has to be a bit of a logistics nightmare! A few minders tried/ to stay close to Michael in the packed tent.
Photos of Michael Franti The audience grab their smart phones and take advantage of the photo ops – all while singing along and jumping on cue.
Michael Franti and Lukas Nelson On his last number, Franti always gets his support team, and any children in the audience, out on stage to join in the happy music. Lukas Nelson (POTR) added to the mix.
We might have missed out on Lionel Richie and a few other big names, but our ears and hearts were full of joyous music.
We left the festival grounds smiling and dancing – and with next years tickets already in hand.
[…] international visitors. Some are big names that take me back to my youth (see, for example: Bring on the Big Names; The Soundtrack of my Youth; Musical Name-Dropping; The Sound of Sunshine); others are more […]ReplyCancel
Benidorm Beach Spain’s Costa Blanca is a veritable tourist haven – particularly for Brits and Northern Europeans – offering miles of beaches and beautiful weather. (iPhone6)
It is true that the Costa Blanca in Southern Spain is ‘touristy’ and full of high-rise buildings.
But, when ‘touristy’ means plenty of places to visit and things to do, cheap and interesting shopping, fresh, tasty local and international food, and service personnel who speak your language, it is easy to argue that it is good value.
My husband and I were using up expiring timeshare points in the planned resort town of Platja de l’Albir (also called Albir, El Albir or L’Albir) – part of the Valencian town of L’Alfàs del Pi. It was mid-May, before the main tourist season hits, so we escaped the worst of the crowds, while still being blessed with magnificent weather. The mild Mediterranean climate treated us to dry sunny days that were just right for pleasurable walking (see: Walking to El Faro), boat-tripping (see: Mediterranean Blues), and exploring (see: Castillo de Santa Bárbara). Most days we left our rental car parked and either strolled around our local beachfront, or made use of the easy-to-navigate public busses.
We had a week to explore, and no particular plan, but we simply had to go to Benidorm to see what all the fuss was about, and I wanted to visit the coastal town of Villajoyosa with it’s colourful buildings.
Join me for a glimpse into these charming southern Spanish resort cities.
Driving to Albir Getting around was easy – although, to be honest, it was the first time I had driven a stick shift for a lot of years, so I was happy to be the navigator. (iPhone6)
Valencia Oranges Walks around Albir took us past beautiful haciendas and expansive orange plantations. (iPhone6)
Sunday Markets – Albir Can you go to Spain without treating yourself to some hand-crafted leather? We couldn’t! (iPhone6)
Resort Kitsch Ours was very much a family-oriented resort – although it was mostly populated with Northern European school groups when we were there. (iPhone6)
Benidorm from the Mediterranean The whole Costa Blanca coastline is ruggedly beautiful with its backdrop of mountains; even the high-rises of Benidorm are dwarfed by nature.
Benidorm Beach With its pubs, clubs, restaurants and high-rises, Benidorm was an eye-opener! Sections of the beach were full of sun-seekers, and walkers and runners shared the promenade with mobility scooters: many of which were tandem vehicles.
Rocky Pier The waters off Villajoyosa were a stunning blue …
Fisherman on the Rocks … and dotted with fishermen.
The Old Town of Villajoyosa or La Vila Joiosa The beachfront is lined with cheerfully colourful houses. People still speak Valencian – a Catalan dialect – here, and most signposting in the region is in Catalan and Spanish, and maybe English.
Colourful Apartments The wide promenade along the beach is popular with tourists and locals alike.
Beach Chairs The beach is ready for customers …
Villajoyosa Beach … and beyond the Old Town, high rise buildings stretch along the Costa Blanca.
Balconies
So Not New York! We didn’t stop in at Central Perk – there were too many other charming beach-front restaurants and bars to choose from.
Homage to Dr. Esquerdo Called an “apostle and leader of two religions: science and the republic,”José María Esquerdo Zaragoza is considered to have brought modern psychiatry to the Mediterranean region.
Palm Trees on the Plaza
Torreón Medieval Villajoyosa is said to have one of the best preserved old towns in Valencia. Rebuilt in the 16th century by King Felipe II, the medieval walls and towers still standing along Carrer Costera de la Mar are a testament to the city’s long history.
Narrow Laneway The Old Town is criss-crossed with impossibly narrow laneways – this one skirting the old fortress walls.
Motorcycle Parking Little light reaches into the laneways, and it is a wonder that people succeed in getting their furniture into the refurbished appartments!
More Balconies
Fountain in the Plaza
View over Rio Amadorio From the Poble Nou – Catalan for New Town – you can look across the river and the terraced parklands towards the Mediterranean.
Amadorio River Embankment Multi-story houses cling to the embankment; …
Buildings along Rio Amadorio … they are as colourful as the rest of their Old Town neighbours.
Puente del Río – River Bridge Designed in 1859, the bridge between the old and newer sections of Villajoyosa rises elegantly over the dry riverbed.
As an “easy” holiday destination with something for everyone, the Costa Blanca is hard to beat.
The Look A man of the crocodile clan gets his face painted in the Kanganaman Village spirit house as part of his preparation for a sing-sing: a Papua New Guinean gathering of tribes or villages for music, dance and cultural exchange.
Papua New Guinea is intensely colourful.
Papua New Guinea is also – thanks to rugged terrain and relative isolation from the outside world – exceptionally regional.
This is certainly the case for the speakers of between 50 and 250 distinct languages (depending on how you categorise things) who live in tightly knit clans in small villages scattered around remote pockets along the meandering, tropical Sepik River and its myriad of tributaries. Life here centres around the waterways and continues much as it has for thousands of years: fish and sago are dietary staples, dugout canoes are the principal transport, the river waters are the children’s playground, and the bamboo houses are built high up on stilts to ride out flooding. Water is carried, electricity – when it exists at all – is locally generated, and cell-phone coverage is practically non-existent. Head-hunting was still a rite of passage for the young men here when the first Europeans ventured into the area in the late 1880s.
In theory, regular sing-sings – a Papua New Guinean form of dance-off – have replaced traditional tribal warfare, and head-hunting as a ritual ceremonial practice has been strongly discouraged since colonial times.
But, little else has changed.
The Sepik region remains remote: to visit the village of Kanganaman in the Middle Sepik with photographer Karl Karl Grobl from Jim Cline Photo Tours, I started from Port Moresby, where our group was lucky enough to get one of the few direct flights to Wewak. From there, it was a long, bumpy bus ride (see: Maprik Market Portraits) to Pagwi. The next leg of the journey was a leisurely two-hour trip up the mighty Sepik River in a motorised dugout boat.
Kanganaman is well known for having oldest haus tambaran – spirit house – on the Sepik River. In fact, this village has not one, but two spirit houses (see: Welcome to the Spirit House): the smaller of which is open to women. Most spirit houses are open to initiated-men only – with exceptions made for tourists.
Kanganaman is also known for having inaugurated a regional sing-sing, called the Sepik River Festival, in 2014. This festival has proved popular with locals and tourists alike, and ours was not the only international group of visitors braving the heat and mosquitos to enjoy displays of distinctive culture, dance and music.
To say that this festival was “colourful” would be an understatement! The two nights I spent in the village provided me with a veritable feast of sensory impressions and images, and I’ve struggled to sort and prioritise the pictures, and to make sense of it all. I have written before about the challenges of trying to truly understand some of the local cultural practices (see: Crocodile Men and Innocent Eyes), especially when they are explained in rather “black and white” language.
I hope you’ll excuse the mixed metaphors, but sometimes it helps to reduce the noise and confusion if you compartmentalise, and look at things in black and white.
The following pictures focus on the local men getting ready in the Kanganaman spirit house – I’ll get back to the preparations and dances of the women and other villagers one day: watch this space!
Please join me as I watch some of the crocodile men get ready for the cassowary dances they will perform at the sing-sing that they are hosting for us and the neighbouring villages.
Tumbuan outside the Spirit House We had spent our early morning inside the spirit house talking to the village men (see: Crocodile Men). We were then invited outside, …
Dancing Masks … where, to the sound of drumming, men danced in large cone-shaped wicker frameworks called tumbuan.
Tumbuan Dancing Masks I thought they resembled giant chickens (or cassowaries – which is the village totem) … but as far as I could ascertain, they are abstract sacred entities.
“Tail Feathers” The swaying and shaking of the wicker masks results in plenty of the long leaves that were used as tail feathers being dropped onto the green grass.
Local Children Everywhere we go, there are always plenty of children to watch us …
Young Child … watching them.
“Roll it or Read it!” Smoking is ubiquitous in PNG : long-leaf tobacco is neatly rolled in pre-cut newspaper, making elegant, pencil-thin cigarettes.
Village House under Construction The stilted local housing – including the “guest house” we stayed in – consists of simple woven walls and floors, and a thatched roof.
Pre-Fab Roofing House construction is actually very quick, as the sections are put together ahead of time.
Mother and Child
Chicken in the Grass The food we were served during our stay in the village was pretty odd: spam spaghetti and other tinned goods. But the eggs at breakfast were superb: free-range and fresh.
Lilies There are colourful flowers all around the village.
Hanging Crab Claw – Heliconia They thrive in the tropical heat.
Face Painting Back inside the men’s spirit house, the sing-sing preparations have started.
Cassowary Eyes The heat is stifling, as the artist follows a village-prescribed pattern of facial markings.
Unfinished Portrait Light slants in through the open walls of the spirit house, contrasting wildly with pockets of deep shadow.
Those Eyes!
Focus and Patience It takes the artists (they change over from time to time) about twenty minutes to finish a face. In the wet-blanket-heat inside the spirit house, it feels like a lot longer!
Finished Face As soon as the first face is finished, the artist moves on to start painting the next man. (iPhone6)
A Second Face
Portrait of a Man in Face Paint And, the second face is almost finished!
Being Face-Painted The third man to be face-painted gets a different design.
Cheeky Smile He gives me a cheeky smile – clearly loving the attention – while his painter concentrates on his work.
Being Painted Both go back to concentrating on the job at hand.
Word reached us that dancers from neighbouring villages had arrived, and were getting ready in various locations around the village green. It was time to leave the men of Kanganaman Village to their preparations, and to go check out the other groups.
Another wonderfully written and illustrated post. I always love going back and reading these. Thanks so much for taking the time to write these, and thanks also for sharing them with us! Looking forward to your next installment of Ursula’s Weekly Wanders!ReplyCancel
[…] watching the men of Kanganaman getting their face-paint ready for their dance performance (see: A Black and White View). But, Kanganaman has not one, but two spirit houses (see: Welcome to the Spirit House). The […]ReplyCancel
[…] in the Sepik River Festival, a richly rewarding local sing sing of music and dance (see: A Black and White View, In the Little Spirit House, Preparations for the Dance, and Invitation to the […]ReplyCancel
Jakslak on the Ridge There is a harsh beauty in the untamed landscape of Western Mongolia; to the Kazakh eagle hunters, the golden eagle represents the wind, the open space, the isolation, and the freedom that can be found here.
The landscape around the Altai Mountains of far-western Bayan-Ölgii Province in Mongolia is as untamed as the people and animals who live there. The cold desert climate experiences dustings of snowfall – but little rain – and the measured temperatures – ranging from -22.6C (-8.68F) on a January night to 22.6° (72.7F) on a July afternoon – don’t reflect the winds that blow across the high plateaus. The ground is rocky, supporting only small shrubs and grasses; while it is sufficient for nomadic grazing, I saw no farms or greenhouses. The area is isolated enough to be home to a number of endangered animals and a small population (about 90,000 in 2013) of hardy inhabitants: mostly (93%) consisting of Mongolia’s minority Kazakhs.
These Kazakhs – a Turkic people who arose as a unique tribal identity between 1456 and 1465 in the steppes of Eurasia – brought their language, their culture, and their tradition of eagle hunting with them through the mountains to this corner of Mongolia. Isolation has allowed them to keep their customs largely intact: here in the Altai Mountains, a dwindling number pass down the centuries-old art of eagle hunting.
It’s not an easy life: to be a proper berkutchi – as eagle hunters are called in the Kazakh language – they must first find a nest and capture a young female bird from under her parents’ watchful eyes. They then hood the fledgling, tether her and lovingly hand-rear her. When she is big enough, they teach her to come when called and land on her master’s arm, and to hunt down prey and give it to her handler.
Of course, as is the case with any animal training, repetition is the key – and even then, things don’t always go to plan!
Thanks to Mongolian guides G and Segi of Shaman Toursand photographers Jeffrey Chapman and Winslow Lockhart from Within the Frame, I was in Bayan-Ölgii staying with a family of semi-nomadic Kazakhs. On the third day of following our hosts out into the surrounding hills while they got their golden eagles ready for the the winter hunting season, one of the younger birds attacked the family dog instead of landing on her trainer’s arm. Even with intervention from the eagle hunters, the dog came off second-best and limped home with some nasty injuries. These impressive birds may be guided in their hunting behaviours, but they are never entirely tame!
A Lanscape of Rocks All the ground here – from the sharp scree on the mountain hillsides to the rounded rocks covering the high plateaus and the shallow riverbeds – is awash with rocks.
A Lanscape of Rocks In many places, there are no roads; our Russian UAZ 4WD vehicles just aimed for the shallowest stretch of river and hoped for the best.
Rocky Ground The ground is fairly inhospitable here above the tree line. Still, dry grasses and small lichen and shrubs find nurture in unlikely places.
Yaks on the Plateau The sparse vegetation is one of the reasons that the nomads follow their herds, …
Domestic Yak on the Plateau … moving to new pastures each season with their sheep, goats, horses and camels, or in this case, yaks.
Jakslak on the Ridge Training golden eagles to respond to their “masters” takes a lot of practice and repetition. On our third day with a family of Kazakh eagle hunters, we follow half of them up to a high rocky ridge.
Jakslak on the Ridge Training doesn’t always go to plan: Jakslak bears old scars (not from this bird) from a hunt gone awry. The hunters are always gentle and affectionate with their massive raptors – but things can still go wrong.
Jakslak Launches an Eagle From high on a ridge, eagle trainers launch the huge birds to another handler who is whistling below.
Sarkhad on the Ridge I don’t know which is more majestic: the magnificent golden eagle with her deadly beak and talons, or her handsome Kazakh-Mongolian handler in his lavish malakhai fox-fur hat. Family patriarch Sarkhad has caught and trained several of these awe-inspiring raptors in his life.
Family on a Ridge Today, Sarkhad is here to help his 13-year-old granddaughter Nurguli practice her eagle-release techniques.
Eagle Huntress on a Ridge The golden eagle looks almost as big as the petite Nurguli …
Eagle Huntress Launching her Bird … as she helps it launch into the air.
Razdak and his Pony Down the hillside, Razdak calls the eagle and tempts it with a meaty bone.
Razdak Catching an Eagle This time, the eagle lands beautifully on Razdak’s arm. It was during one of these training runs that Nuguli’s young eagle attacked the family dog instead of flying to the handler calling her.
Sarkhad and his Eagle The practice is repeated a few times with each of the birds that are being exercised: …
Sarkhad Launching an Eagle … releasing the bird, …
Razdak Catching an Eagle … and catching it on the fly.
Golden Eagle and her Companions These birds weigh between 3 and 7 kg (6.6 – 15.4 lbs) and have wingspans of 1.8 – 2.3 m (5’9″ – 7’5″); their Kazakh handlers are not that tall! There is a forked wood perch attached to the saddle to help support the bird while they are riding.
Jakslak and his Eagle
Razdak and his Eagle
Eagle Huntress Nurguli was at home with her eagle – but was less comfortable with us interlopers.
Eagle Huntress Every so often, one of the guides would manage to engage her in her native Kazakh, and a smile would illuminate her face.
Watching young Nurguli with her golden eagle made me wonder about her world and her place in the future. To be an eagle hunter in this modern age might seem like an odd choice to many of us: but it is a choice. Two of Sarkhad’s sons are in Ulaanbaatar earning their livings (and supplementing the family’s income) in more “conventional” ways.
But, the love that these eagle hunters have for their bird and their environment is evident, and there must be a real satisfaction in wearing the traditional clothing that has been painstakingly made and embroidered by one’s wife or mother, and the hats trimmed with pelts from foxes or rabbits brought down by a bird one has trained oneself.
They have a difficult life, but they are their own masters.
- 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.
Despite the “pay for photos” dilemma, you ended up with some nice images. I particularly like the side-lit shots.
Thanks, Kevin.
It’s always lovely to have your input!
Cheers, U
[…] remaining tribes to continue to wear lip plates: I’ve shared pictures of these before (see: Meet the Mursi). According to accounts, Mursi men engage in ritualised violence in the form of ceremonial stick […]
[…] tourism, and have posted some of the pictures I “bought” in this Mursi village (see: The Mursi and Mursi Men). One of the biggest problems I had was the transactional nature of the exchanges, […]
[…] of the deliberately underexposed pictures I made of the Mursi people in very bright light (see: Meet the Mursi); I also wanted to work with whited-out backgrounds, and get more practice with off-camera […]