Photo: Jeremy Woodhouse
The road was windy, unpaved and in a valley. Up on the cliff we observed people walking home from Sunday church, women in white shawls holding large umbrellas. Men in tattered baseball caps with finely sanded walking sticks. On their feet cheaply made Chinese plastic sandals.To the right was a craggy mountain with stunted trees growing out of it. I won't call it rain or drizzle but something was coming down. Kind of a thin white mist, an air of quietness and peacefulness pervaded the surroundings and us in our vehicles. Glancing out of the window coming up the road I spotted a teenage boy walking towards us. Over his shoulder he had a long stick, on his back it appeared he had a bag I really couldn't make out what he was carrying in his arms until he was next to the car. And there he was, a boy carrying a chicken, with not just a stick over his shoulder but a spear and tied to his back was a goatskin bag and a large metal kettle. All the makings of a proper Sunday dinner. Who could ask for a better, in the moment photographic experience.
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