The Mountain Gorillas of Bwindi Impenetrable Forest

Photographer Laura Grier adventures among gorillas and lions in Rwanda and Uganda.

There are few places in the world where wild animals are unafraid of humans, and you can view them in their own majesty in the wild without cages, tourist vehicles or controlling their environment. The Gorillas of the Bwindi Impenetrable forest of Rwanda and Uganda are on the top of my list as a place where I have been able to come face-to-face with animals and spend the day with them in their environment. Those moments have been life-changing for me.

I led a group of six women and one man to Rwanda and Uganda on a philanthropic adventure trip; all of the locals affectionately called our one token male “Silverback” since the male Silverbacks gorillas always travel with a harem of female gorillas in the forest.

We started our trip in Kigali, the capital of Rwanda, and had a meal in “Heaven”, the restaurant that was made famous by the book “A Thousand Hills to Heaven,” a memoir about one couple and how they healed a Rwandan village, raised a family near the old killing fields, and built this restaurant named Heaven. The authors, Josh and Alissa, newlyweds at the time, were at a party and received a challenge: “Do you think you can really make a difference here in Africa?”

This memoir inspired me to lead this trip and to see if through adventure, we too could all give back and make a positive impact here in Rwanda and Uganda. So it was only fitting to begin our journey right in this spot.

Our first stop was visiting the female artisan weaving collective, Handspun Hope, who are mostly widowed women from the horrific genocide that happened here in the 1990s. Many men were murdered in a two-week period of time, leaving women and children orphaned and widowed and with no way to provide for themselves. This non-profit created a gorgeous, safe oasis for these women to weave and gather together and purchasing these goods helps them to support their families and communities and help lift them out of poverty.

Due to the genocide, Rwanda has received a lot of aid and tourism help from around the world. We noticed a marked difference in infrastructure and wealth between Rwanda and Uganda; Uganda is by far the poorer neighbor. So we decided to stay in an eco-lodge on the Ugandan side of the Bwindi Impenetrable Forest to help support the country’s tourism, and also receive the benefits of the Ugandan side’s lower price tag. 

We spent two days hiking out to see the gorillas. Each morning, groups of trackers leave at sunrise to track the various families of gorillas in the forest, and then a couple hours later we leave in groups to follow their trail and hopefully intercept the great apes. Many of these trackers were once poachers, but now tourist dollars flowing in make the gorillas worth more alive than dead—many poachers have switched to the “good side,” helping to protect these giant creatures.

What I loved was learning about these gorilla groups and how they live. They all have names and very human personalities and soap opera-esque drama. They make nests every night on the ground to sleep in, and often you will find them hanging out in the trees above you. When you do finally spot a group of gorillas, they seem very nonchalant about your presence. It doesn’t matter how many hours it took hiking through thick jungle to find them, once discovered the clock starts ticking and you get only an hour to hang out with them before the rules dictate that you have to leave. You can always spend the next day hiking out to find them again, but you will never know how long that will take. They are always on the move.

Nothing really can describe sitting next to a gorilla in the wild and staring into their faces. They are gentle yet powerful creatures, and more akin to us than different. Their forests are  protected through tourism dollars, one of the few times I feel like tourism is truly benefiting wildlife, since the Ugandans and Rwandans have a deep respect for these gorilla groups. 

After two days of trekking through thick jungles in the cool, misty mountains looking for gorillas, we drove down into the arid savannas of Uganda to visit the Hanging Lions of Queen Elizabeth National Park. This is the only place on Earth where you will find prides of Ishasha lions just hanging out in the high limbs of Sycamore Fig trees. This is a very rare sight, because this unique group of only about 35 lions is endangered due to threats of human-wildlife conflict and retaliatory snaring and poisoning. We drove around in safari vehicles and witnessed gorgeous wildlife, including herds of elephants and hippos and, of course, very full, very happy lions in the trees.

Laura Grier

Laura is a dynamic Adventure Photographer, Photo Anthropologist, Travel Writer, and Social Impact Entrepreneur. With a remarkable journey spanning 87 countries and 7 continents, Laura's lens captures both the breathtaking landscapes and the intricate stories of the people she encounters. As a National Geographic artisan catalog photographer, Huffington Post columnist, and founder of Andeana Hats, Laura fuses her love for photography, travel, and social change, leaving an impact on the world.

Peaks, Prayers, and Paragliding in Nepal

Although Nepal is a small, landlocked country in the Himalayan mountain chain, its majesty, stunning landscapes that sprawl on endlessly and spiritually diverse culture outshine most places I have visited.

Laura Grier

Travelers and adventure seekers from around the world risk their lives flocking to Nepal for a chance to summit our planet’s most famous peak, Mount Everest. Everest's vertex, soaring to an impressive 29,029 feet, stands as the highest point on Earth. Located in the realm more commonly traversed by jetliners than humans, it represents an awe-inspiring summit beyond the reach of ordinary explorers. But there is so much more to this tiny, mountainous country wedged between India and China, which has maintained its own unique culture and vibe despite the behemoths on either side.

With its enchanting blend of sacred temples, revered cows, Buddhist monks, endangered animal sanctuaries and extreme sports like paragliding to get your adrenaline pumping, Nepal will captivate you. There is something for everyone, and you may even come across a rare Yeti sighting! In celebration of the country’s unique thrills and delights, I wanted to share some fun facts I learned about Nepal while I was there leading a philanthropic photography workshop.

The current year is 2080…

This year, 2080, is particularly significant in the Nepali calendar because it marks the beginning of a new century (21st century) in the Nepal Sambat system. This unique calendar system is based on lunar cycles and has been used in Nepal for millennia. In fact, April 13th is when they celebrate New Year’s Eve!

Nepal has maintained ZERO poaching of its endangered animals, including elephants, rhinos and tigers, for the past 12 years.

Nepal has become the world’s gold standard in the fight against poaching and received international accolades for recording zero poaching of rhinos in 2011, 2014, 2016, 2018, 2019, and 2020. The Nepalese government has ensured local communities benefit financially from the country’s parks and ecotourism. The government gives local communities 50 cents of every tourist dollar, making the wildlife more valuable alive than dead.

Mount Everest actually has two other names, Sagarmatha and Chomolungma.

The Royal Geographic Society pronounced the official name "Mount Everest" in 1865, named after Sir George Everest, the Surveyor General, but he did not want the peak named after him, believing it important to use local names. The Nepali word for Everest is Sagarmatha, meaning “forehead of the sky.” Sherpas (which is actually the name of an ethnic group in Eastern Nepal, not just a word for someone who lugs your gear) call it Chomolungma, meaning “Goddess Mother of the World.”

Pokhara is called the “Gateway to the Himalayas” and the starting point of many of the most famous trekking expeditions, but what will grab your attention is the constant swooping of dozens of colorful paragliders filling the skies above you. It is one of the top paragliding locations worldwide, having all the right ingredients: stable thermals, convenient take-off and landing zones, the safety of a large lake for emergency landings and incredible mountain views. 

I had a total “James Bond experience when I stayed at the Waterfront Hotel there, jumping off a cliff, gliding around for half an hour doing corkscrew tricks surrounded by hawks, then landing right next to the pool of my hotel, where I took off my parachute and went directly to a lounge chair for a cocktail — no big deal!

Nepal is the birthplace of Lord Gautam Buddha, The founder of Buddhism. 

Buddha’s exact birthplace is preserved in Lumbini, Nepal, inside the Maya Devi temple, and because of this, Lumbini in Nepal is the holiest pilgrimage site for Buddhists worldwide.

Boudhanath Stupa is the largest and holiest Tibetan Buddhist temple outside Tibet.

I spent the day with hundreds of monks chanting, playing instruments, wearing ornate headdresses and praying around the stupa’s base. If you are lucky, on certain holy days you can watch the monks elaborately decorate the stupa and participate in the Kora Buddhist prayers by walking clockwise around it, spinning the hundreds of prayer wheels as you go from right to left.

Visit The Hindu City of the Dead.

Death is part of Life at Pashupatinath Temple, The Hindu City of the Dead. This is one of the most sacred Hindu temples dedicated to god Shiva and located on both banks of Bagmati River in Kathmandu. Every year this temple attracts hundreds of elderly followers of Hinduism who seek shelter for the last several weeks of their lives, to meet death, be cremated on the banks of the river, and travel their last journey with the waters of the sacred river Bagmati, which later meets the holy river Ganges. Hinduists from every corner of Nepal and India are arriving here to die or bring their dead.

It is believed that those who die in Pashupatinath Temple are reborn as a human, regardless of their karma. All around the banks of the river you can find brightly painted Sadhus, or holymen who are trying to acquire liberation from the cycle of death and rebirth by meditating and astrologers that can predict the exact day of your death or just read your palm if you prefer not to know. This place is huge, like a city within a city and has been in existence since 400 AD. There is a powerful energy there and at any given time while you are there visiting, you will get the chance to see at least one open air cremation and watch how they prepare the bodies for the cycle of death and rebirth.

Laura Grier

Laura is a dynamic Adventure Photographer, Photo Anthropologist, Travel Writer, and Social Impact Entrepreneur. With a remarkable journey spanning 87 countries and 7 continents, Laura's lens captures both the breathtaking landscapes and the intricate stories of the people she encounters. As a National Geographic artisan catalog photographer, Huffington Post columnist, and founder of Andeana Hats, Laura fuses her love for photography, travel, and social change, leaving an impact on the world.

Peru’s Floating Islands

The Uros Floating Islands on Lake Titicaca are man-made reed constructions in an Indigenous Quechua community.

Nestled amidst the stunning Andes Mountains, Peru’s Lake Titicaca is home to an extraordinary wonder: the Uros Floating Islands. Inhabited by Quechua families, these islands provide a unique window into the remarkable ingenuity and rich cultural heritage of the Quechua people, who are Indigenous to the Andean region of South America. These islands also stand as a testament to the enduring preservation of the Quechua's traditional way of life in a remote corner of the world.

There are around 50 of these islands, crafted entirely from floating reeds. As you approach them, you'll be struck by the vibrant colors that adorn this grassy landscape, seemingly out of a fantasy world. Even the boats and homes here are constructed using the same totoro reeds that grow on the lake.

Maintaining these islands involves a lot of work. Every day there are chores to be done to prevent the islands and boats from getting soggy and sinking. Each Quechua family meticulously stacks layers of reeds on top of floating mud, connecting them with wooden stakes like a giant jigsaw puzzle. Each morning, the men set out on a quest to cut down the totoro reeds, which are tall, sturdy plants, while the women expertly arrange them across the floors of their floating homes.

The group of 50 islands that make up Uros form two rows and water traffic between them creates the illusion of a river, although it's all part of Lake Titicaca. Typically, one extended family group resides on each island, and if someone wishes to move, they literally cut and float their piece to a new location — an ingenious and somewhat surreal practice.

Some local Quechua people, like Victor and his family on the island of Khantati, offer a very authentic cultural experience by opening up their homes for a multiday homestay. Upon arrival, you'll be greeted warmly by local women donning intricately woven skirts and braided hair adorned with colorful pom-poms. They'll dress you in their traditional layer wool skirt and vests attire and choose a hat that signifies your status on the island. Knitted caps are for single women, while married women wear straw hats. It's a charming way to announce one's relationship status!

A tour of the island reveals the Quechua’s unique way of life. From a fully-equipped kitchen powered by solar panels to a "lounge" area with grass-made swing sets and chairs, their resourcefulness shines through. You'll also find a pond stocked with fish, separate restrooms for men and women (effectively porta-potties with holes cut through the island beneath them), and family homes. Despite their simplicity, some islands boast satellite TV and solar electricity. You might encounter a family cat or even a pet flamingo. Although the mainland with its wired electricity is within eyesight, these families still choose to continue living in the ways of their ancestors. Communication for visitors can be a challenge, as they speak an Indigenous Quechua language rooted in ancient Incan dialects and some Spanish. I found that a combination of sign language and gestures bridges the gap and also doing family portraits with my camera allowed for meaningful interactions.

Days here are filled with observing Quechua women selling their handmade woven reed crafts to passing tourists. In the evenings, you can join a Quechua "gondolier" like Victor, the patriarch of Khantati Island, for a canoe ride in traditional garb. You'll witness firsthand how they fish and harvest reeds for their island. The boats, such as the one you're rowed in on, are handcrafted by locals and last about a year and eight months before succumbing to the elements. The constant maintenance required serves as a reminder of the islanders' connection to nature.

Life here is refreshingly simple, far removed from the trappings of modern life. Their only link to the outside world is a small floating convenience store and the occasional visit from curious tourists. This centuries-old way of life serves as a reminder that simplicity can be a choice, free from the stresses of cell phones, emails and mortgage payments.

I spent two unforgettable days floating, fishing and weaving alongside these resilient people. At night, I found comfort in a grass hut, tucked beneath woven blankets with heated water bottles. Surprisingly, this remote Andean haven felt like home and I never slept better in my life.

Laura Grier

Laura is a dynamic Adventure Photographer, Photo Anthropologist, Travel Writer, and Social Impact Entrepreneur. With a remarkable journey spanning 87 countries and 7 continents, Laura's lens captures both the breathtaking landscapes and the intricate stories of the people she encounters. As a National Geographic artisan catalog photographer, Huffington Post columnist, and founder of Andeana Hats, Laura fuses her love for photography, travel, and social change, leaving an impact on the world.

The Gris-gris Wrestlers of Senegal

Wrestling — la lutte in French, or lamb in native Wolof — is by far the most popular sport in Senegal, even more beloved than football.

The entire population, from toddlers to grandmothers, follows the big wrestling matches either in the stadium, on the television, or on the street. Senegalese wrestling differs from that practised more commonly in western and Asian countries — mostly because of the traditional rituals practised by competitors. In western countries, these mystic rituals are often colloquially called voodoo, but the Senegalese call it gris-gris.

These unusual rituals are usually performed with the presentation and veneration of traditional amulets, the use of magic potions, and hypnotic drumming, songs and dance — all as an integral part of the wrestling match. The wrestler above is presenting his magic amulets to the crowd before a fight in the Adrien Senghor arena. Meanwhile, below you see a wrestler training before a final fight in the Iba Mar Diop stadium, located in the Medina district in Dakar. To prepare, he dances alone in a trance-like state to ear-deafening hypnotic drums and repetitive beats.

During the last ten years, the traditional sport of La Lutte Sénégalaise has become a million dollar spectacle, mostly because of big telecom sponsors, TV stations, and new media channels. This has led to the most successful wrestlers becoming media-stars and billionaires, giving young men in this African country a very different perspective. For wrestlers who succeed there is not only social recognition, along with high value prizes into the hundreds of thousands of US dollars for the highest profile fights, but also the chance of well-paid jobs in the security industry or as a trainer in a wrestling school.

THE BIG FIGHT

While in Dakar, I attended a huge fight between two superstars of Senegalese wrestling — Balla Gaye 2 and Emeu Sene — along with more than 20,000 other fans at the sold out soccer stadium called Demba Diop, on April 5, 2015. With over 200 million CFA (around USD $300,000) at stake, this was a serious match. In the weeks beforehand, large billboards and posters appeared all over the city, advertising the event. Below you see fans and street vendors gathering outside the stadium before it began.

At the start of the competition, Adam Ngom, a well-known drummer, fired up the audience to welcome the champion wrestler Balla Gaye 2. An important mystical element, the deafening sound of the drums is never absent from a fight, not even at small wrestling matches in local villages.

One of many mystical rituals performed by the wrestlers, releasing pigeons is believed to bring the wrestler luck. Balla Gaye 2, whose real name is Sakko, became a superstar in Senegal after he dethroned the reigning champion Yekini in 2012, who had remained unbeaten for fifteen years.

Similar to wrestling styles in other countries, a Senegalese fighter will try to grab their opponent by legs, and unbalance him. Nowadays a wrestling match that also involves boxing is the king’s discipline of the Senegalese sport, but the more traditional forms of wrestling are still performed without boxing in many of the villages. Below you see wrestler BB Bismi Ndoye defeating his opponent Maraka Dji, during another fight in the Demba Diop stadium on April 5, 2015. Some fights will last no longer than 90 seconds and only very rarely do they go on longer than fifteen minutes.

RITUAL & RHYTHM

Senegal’s climate is too hot for wrestling during the day, so competitions always take place in the evening, often lasting until well after midnight.

Attending these late night competitions, the atmosphere and mood often evoked is that of an ancient gladiatorial fight, with plenty of wild drumming and singing. Below you see the contrasting enthusiasm and frustration of rival supporters in the Iba Mar Diop stadium — every well-known wrestler has his own loyal supporters who spur him on during a fight.

Senegalese wrestling matches always take place on sand and many wrestling stars will head out to train on the public beaches of Dakar, which also provides a welcome source of entertainment for the locals.

Witchcraft and magic play a very important role in Senegalese wrestlers’ preparations. Below you see Kherou Ngor, a young lightweight wrestling champion, washing himself with milk on the shore of Ngor in Dakar. Kherou performs this traditional ritual as he believes that he will gain strength and support from a ghost who lives among the stones on the shore.

At least three times a week, Kherou will also train on the long stairway in front of the “monument of the African Renaissance”, one of the biggest bronze statues in the world. Ultimately, the North Korean aesthetic and the statue’s insane building cost prevented the former Senegalese president Abdoulaye Wade from being re-elected.

Before a fight, it is also common for a marabout — a religious leader and teacher — to conduct rituals, believed to give the wrestler supernatural powers. Marabouts also make and sell amulets, called Gris-gris, and magic potions to the wrestlers, which they then take to the matches in bottles. Traditional shamans also play a part in the preparations. Every wrestler has an assistant who takes care of his Gris-gris amulets and prepares him for each fight. Below you see one of those assistants sacrificing milk at a cham, a special place of worship for the ancestors of the wrestler’s family.

Another important ritual wrestlers often celebrate before a fight is the inhalation of holy smoke. Each wrestler uses a special cloth to waft the smoke, which he will then wear on his abdomen during the fight.

EVOLUTION OF A SPORT

Wrestling has a centuries-long traditional history as part of popular culture and tradition in Senegal and I met photographer Freekis Ndoye from Dakar, who shared his historical pictures of wrestlers from the 1950s. The first celebrated wrestler in the region of Senegambia was called Boukar Djilak Faye and he lived during the 14th century in the kingdom of Sine.

Almost every village in rural Senegal organizes regular wrestling tournaments, often to accompany a communal celebration or party. Below, in the small village of Soune, you see women and children gathering to watch the men fight in a wrestling match, as a young wrestler pours a magic potion over himself, prepared by a shaman to lend him supernatural forces.

Before each fight, the wrestlers must wrap a special cloth around their abdomens, which they can use to grab hold of each other during the fight.

Below you see a wrestler from the small village of Djilass, during a ritual river washing before a regional fight competition. The captial city of Dakar attracts many wrestlers who are successful in rural areas, as it is only at the bigger competitions a fighter can win significant prize money.

Today, especially at the bigger matches in Dakar, many of the traditional costumes once worn by wrestlers during the dances and gris-gris ceremonies that are held before a fight, have been exchanged for high-tech sports gear emblazoned with the bold logos of modern telecommunication brands. Here you see a group of young wrestlers performing a dance at the Demba Diop stadium in Dakar.

With the influence of big sponsors, wrestling has become a very trendy sport and is no longer seen as a sport only for old men. Even young girls like 23-year-old Aissa, who is a waitress at the “Black and White” bar on the beach of Ngor, read the Sunu Lamb newspaper — a daily publication dedicated exclusively to Senegalese wrestling matches.

The faces of top wrestlers are also becoming a popular subject for t-shirts and the superstars of wrestlers gather many adoring young followers.

THE NEXT GENERATION

Tens of thousands of young men in Senegal now dream of making wresting their future career, in the hope of becoming rich and famous. Every evening, as the heat of the sun begins to lessen, you will find the next generation of wrestlers training hard on the beach of Ngor in Dakar.

Most of the young hopefuls have very little money to their names, so they must be resourceful with their training — only the top wrestlers can afford to train at the city’s dedicated wrestling gymnasiums.

The young men with the most talent will go on to train at one of the famous wrestling schools run by ex-fighters like Balla Gaye, who opened the first official wrestling school in Senegal. Many successful wrestlers have graduated from his school, including the superstar Balla Gaye 2.

Now retired from competition, below you see another famous wrestler, Lac de Guiers, posing in front of the Mar Diop stadium. It was in this very arena that his fight against the wrestler Commando made wrestling history. With a series of targeted, hard punches, Lac de Guiers defeated the much taller favourite and sent him tumbling out cold to the ground.

These days, Lac de Guiers owns a wrestling school and lives peacefully with his family, a sheep, a few pigeons, and his parrot. Here you see him relaxing and watching an important weekend match with his family on TV, just like a hundred thousand other Senegalese people on a Saturday afternoon.

Named in honour of his mentor and trainer, below you see the wrestler Lac de Guiers 2, pictured after a training session on the bonnet of his car, which he was able to buy using some of the prize money he has won. A rising star, on April 12, 2015, he followed in his predecessor’s footsteps and defeated the strong favorite, Papa Sow, in a sensational fight at Demba Diop stadium.

For now, the future of this traditional sport looks set to be filled with ever higher profile competitions and tantilising promise for Senegal’s next generation of aspiring young wrestlers.

Christian Bobst is a documentary and travel photographer who is based in Zürich, Switzerland. You can explore more of his work at christianbobstphotography.com.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

Photo Essay: On the Ground with Waves For Water in the Philippines

While the Philippine Islands were being struck by Super Typhoon Haiyan’s wrath, Jon Rose, Founder of Waves For Water, was already hatching his plan to help.

W4W began work in the Philippines in response to Typhoon Haiyan and continues to support areas with water shortages. 

In 2013, the Philippines was hit by one of the most devastating typhoons ever recorded: Typhoon Haiyan. The natural disaster affected people throughout Southeast Asia and killed 6,300 people in the Philippines alone. Throughout the country, over 4.3 million people were affected. One major impact of the typhoon was its obstruction of access to clean water. 

To address this problem, Jon Rose, founder of Waves for Water (W4W), arrived in the Philippines ready to distribute his organization’s water filters among “forgotten pockets,” communities that were not “the focal point of major relief efforts.” His method of distribution and relief relied on the “train-the trainer, local-based model” in which W4W organizers “empower” and “facilitate” for local people rather than decide “who gets what, when, where and how.” Two years after the typhoon, W4W established an office in the Philippines, where it is currently registered as a non-profit organization. Since 2015, W4W has built 66 rainwater catchment systems and provided over a million Filipinos with access to clean water. In December of 2021, the organization helped to address the devastation caused by Hurricane Odette in Siargao, Philippines through a partnership with Billabong. Currently, W4W is providing aid for those impacted by Tropical Depression Agaton, which has displaced 1.9 million people in Visayas and Mindanao, Philippines. You can contribute to this specific effort here. 

W4W’s humanitarian efforts are not limited to the Philippines. Since its inception in 2009, the organization has made an impact in 44 countries, including Mozambique, Ecuador, Sierra Leone and Chile, and has helped 3.75 million people gain reliable access to clean drinking water. W4W currently has 24r active programs helping to address water access issues. These programs seek to provide aid to citizens of Ukraine, Australia, Haiti and Guatemala. You can learn more and help out here.

Jon Rose

As a pro surfer of 13 years, Jon Rose traveled the world in pursuit of perfect waves. It was this passion that led him to development of Waves for Water in 2009. He hopes to see W4W enlist and empower travers to help solve the world water crisis.

THE HIJRA — INDIA'S THIRD GENDER

While Western countries move to embrace the LGBTQ+ community, people of non-binary gender in India have played an important role in the society’s history and culture for over 4000 years.

Evidence of sexual ambivalence has been a recurring theme in ancient holy texts in which Hindu deities often change genders. In various Hindu scriptures, Hijras are seen as demi-gods who have historically played important roles as entrusted advisors to rulers. Hijras are born male but look and dress as female — many will undergo castration and offer their male genitalia to the Hindu goddess Bahuchara Mata. Bahuchara Mata is a pivotal deity who enjoys the patronage of the transgender community in India.

Life as a Hijra, or Kinnar (mythological beings that excel at song and dance) as they prefer to call themselves, is often a difficult one because while someone they may be revered they can also be disdained. Often cast out by their families they become open to exploitation, forces sex work and dangerous castrations. Community networks help to overcome this alienation by forming “houses” or “families” led by a Guru/teacher in order to support themselves by dancing and performing rituals. The connection to male/female characters in holy texts leads many to believe that the Hijra possess special powers and they earn a living by attending weddings and birth ceremonies to dance and offer blessings. To many Hindus, a Hijra’s blessing will mean long life and prosperity for the child. After a marriage ceremony the couple will receive a fertility blessing. It’s believed that the Hijra’s act of sacrificing their ability to procreate to the goddess Bahuchara Mata gives them their incredible religious power. 

During the British colonization of India, the fluidity of gender was repressed, transgender practices were outlawed, and they were forced underground. In recent years, the Hijra have regained some of the rights and freedoms that were formerly denied. In 2014 the Supreme Court acknowledged that third gender people are deserving of rights equal to other citizens. They are slowly assimilating into the fabric of Indian society and are now recognised as a third gender on passports and other official documents. 

Additionally, there have been several events in the recent past which indicate a move to more inclusive sexual variance in society. In 2019 The Hijra were invited to take part in the Kumbh Mela in Prayagraj, one of the largest holy bathing festivals in India. They were led by Laxmi Narayan Tripathi, a well-known Bollywood actress and activist for transgender rights in India. When invited to speak at the Asia Pacific UN Assembly in 2008, she spoke of the plight of sexual minorities claiming that transgender people should be respected as humans and given equal rights. After centuries of ostracism, the Hijra community’s fight to be accepted by the Hindu establishment is slowly reaching fruition.

Carol Foote

Carol is based in Queensland Australia and has always been drawn to street photography, searching out the most colourful and quirky characters in her own environment. After studying documentary photography at college, she travelled to Yunnan, China to photograph the wide diversity of ethnic minorities in the region. However, over the past five years, her focus has shifted to Tibet, Nepal and India. As someone who has always been drawn to unique and different cultures, the regions rich heritage and local traditions make it a haven for her style of photography.

Follow Carol on social media @carolfoote_photographer

Child Slavery in Ghana

When Elizabeth Tulsky participated in NYU’s study abroad program in Ghana, she also independently volunteered with City of Refuge, a local organization that uses education as a tool to combat child slavery. She said of her experience that it had “a tremendous impact on my life and what I want to do in the future.”

In Ghana, children are often enslaved, maltreated and many mothers struggle to see their children as more than a financial burden. While there are no statistics on the actual number of children trafficked, estimates are in the thousands. What is known is that 25% of Ghanaian children ages 5-14 years are involved in child labor. Child labor and human trafficking are both against the law in Ghana, however, laws are not enforced.

City of Refuge fights against child slavery by educating small villages about the harms of keeping children out of school and depriving them of a childhood. The organization is founded on the belief that if they can empower single mothers educationally and economically then they will no longer be vulnerable to selling their children as slaves.

Can you tell me a bit about City of Refuge and the work they do?

City of Refuge workers enter villages and open discussions with the chiefs in a respectful manner and work to free children who are in dangerous and/or miserable conditions and separated from their families. On a daily basis, City of Refuge provides home, happiness, and sanctuary to many rescued children. Furthermore, City of Refuge runs the only public school in the city, Doryumu. The organization works at the root of the problem, beginning with single mothers. Many children end up in slavery because mothers simply have absolutely no means of supporting themselves, much less their young children. Selling them, as hard as it may be to believe, truly seems like the only option for many women. Thus, City of Refuge works with single mothers to find alternative solutions to make ends meet, and have started two local businesses to be run by single mothers to increase opportunities for mothers and in turn, reduce the number of children sold into horrific situations.

How were you involved with the organization?

I worked in the small school where the children living with the City of Refuge family were educated and spent my evenings at the home playing with children and helping them with their homework. I also spent time shadowing the founders and through this I learned much about the process.

What do you know about child slavery in Ghana?

Children are targeted as slaves for fishermen for several reasons. First, children are easy to acquire as so many parents are impoverished and feel financially helpless. Second, children’s small hands are ideal for making and untangling fishing nets. When the nets get trapped in trees in the lake, children are sent in the water to untangle them. Unfortunately, this means many of the child slaves are incredibly susceptible to water-borne disease and illness and sadly, some do not know how to swim and may drown in the water. Children who are enslaved receive no form of education or care and spend up to eighteen hours a day working on the lake. They are often fed no more than one meal a day, which frequently consists of just gari, a food made from cassava, soaked in the lake water.

Any advice for travelers going to Ghana?

This is probably true for every country, but just approach everything with an open mind, try new things, immerse yourself in the culture as much as possible.

How can readers help the victims of Child Slavery in Ghana?

Check out City of Refuge for more information.

Other organizations doing good work include Youth Generation Against Poverty (YGAP), an organization that inspires volunteers through creative fundraising opportunities. They have created several projects partnered with City of Refuge.

Elizabeth Tulsky

Elizabeth studied social work at NYU and has experience working with trauma, grief, family issues, depression, anxiety, ADHD, and general life transitions. She hopes to use her work to create culturally responsive, affirming and inclusive healing spaces while promoting the use of person-centered, strengths-based, trauma-informed, anti-racist and social-justice frameworks.

India’s Third Gender — Hijra

Despite being protected within the Indian constitution, hijra communities experience persecution. Their colonies are often sites of abuse and poverty, yet serve as the only space in Indian society for their identity.

Image by Carol Foote

India’s third gender includes a few different groups, but the most common are the hijras. The hijra identity is complex; some are born male but dress in traditionally feminine ways, some are born intersex, some seek gender reassignment procedures, and some choose to be castrated as an offering to the Hindu goddess of chastity and fertility, Bahuchara Mata, granting them their religious powers. Outsiders tend to associate them as transgender, but Indian society considers them to be the third gender — not male, not female, not transitioning. The one defining characteristic of hijras is that they leave their homes from a young age to become a part of the hijra community, where they teach their lessons in secret. These communities exist on the outskirts of society, where they are often shunned by their families and at the mercy of police authorities. 

Image by Carole Foote

For centuries, trans, intersex and genderqueer individuals abandoned by their families have been initiated into the hijra community by gurus within the system. From the age of 12 or 13, hijras trade their relationships with their families for a relationship with a guru who takes on the role of  of parent, teacher and boss. The gurus are expected to teach each hijra the chela, or the disciple, in the hijra way of life. This includes learning their rituals, how to manage a household and how to make a living. Gurus are expected to treat the hijras like their children, but their ability to dictate how a hijra works, what they earn and even who they see maintains a hold over their lives that many activists consider a systemic form of bonded labor. 

Image by Carol Foote

These communities operate within a pyramid system where the “chelas,” or the hijra students, are divided into hierarchies by their work. At the top of the pyramid are the senior-most chelas, who sing and dance. Below them are the chelas who beg and collect alms in exchange for blessings at events. And lastly, at the bottom of the chela pyramid are the sex workers. In addition to their work, chelas are expected to take on chores that serve their guru. Regardless of how a hijra earns their money, a portion of it will go to their gurus. 

Image by Carol Foote

The founder of online transgender community Transgender India, Neysara, told NewsNewslaundry,aundry, an independent news media company in India, that the hijra community is “not a child-friendly place equipped to handle trauma.” She went on to say that, “What is vulnerable is trafficable and most that join are disenfranchised.” Neysara recalled turning to the hijra community at a time when she was young and scared. “When my family was trying to honor-kill me, I sought the hijra jamaat for help. They outright told me that I [...] could only stay with them if I do sex work and earn for them.” Honor killings are committed by a male family member seeking to protect the dignity of their family against someone they believe has brought them shame. It was sex work or death.

Image by Carol Foote

Hijras have been a part of Indian life for more than a thousand years. Evidence of their existence within Hindu society can be found inside holy texts like the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, where Arjuna became the third gender. Throughout South Asian history, third-gender people have often held positions of high power. For example, during the Mughal Empire in the 15th to 19th centuries, Hindu and Muslim rulers were considerate advocates of the third gender, and many rose to significant positions, even serving as the sexless watchdogs of Mughal harems. In Hinduism, their high regard is marked by their loyalty to Lord Rama, when hijras waited at the edge of the forest for 14 years until he returned to Ayodhya after being exiled.

Image by Carol Foote

The hijras’ religious backgrounds tend to center around traditions that blend Hinduism and Islam. The practice of removing genitalia is something stigmatized in a normal Indian community, however, it’s this act that is the source of their sacred power and legitimizes their role in society. According to tradition, when a hijra is castrated their genitalia is offered to the Hindu Mother Goddess, Bahuchara Mata. The Mother Goddessworks alongside Muslim saints to transform the sacrifice of their ability to procreate into the power to bestow fertility and good luck onto others. The hijras give blessings at births and weddings to grant new couples and their newborn children fertility and prosperity. Intersex people, transgender women and infertile men are considered to be called upon by the goddess to become a hijra. Should they ignore the call, it is believed that they will pay the price of being impotent for the next seven lives they have on Earth. 

Image by Carol Foote

The castration surgery is performed by a guru and takes place without an anesthetic. The operation is illegal and life-threatening and has led some Indian regions to consider offering a medical alternative free of charge. However, because of tradition, the sacred sacrifice is performed in absolute secrecy and never spoken of. Following the surgery, new hijras recover in semi-seclusion and eat a special diet for 40 days. Afterward, they conduct a special ceremony where they're dressed as brides and blessed with the power of Bahuchara Mata. From this moment on, they are given new names and new identities. Articles in the India Times and India Today have reported how this system has been forced upon young and at-risk men, who are then pressured into prostituion and homosexuality. 

Image by Carol Foote

Even though hijras were treated with respect for thousands of years, much of their societal downfall can be attributed to Hinduism’s encounter with colonialism. The British colonized most of South Asia in the 19th and 20th centuries, and their Christian beliefs did not prepare them for their confrontation with the third gender. In 1871, the British named all hijras hereditary criminals and ordered authorities to arrest them. The law gave police the power of increased surveillance over the community, who went as far as to compile registers of hijras. A historian named Dr. Jessica Hinchy told BCC that, "Registration was a means of surveillance and also a way to ensure that castration was stamped out and the hijra population was not reproduced." 

Image by Carol Foote

Even though the law was repealed once India regained its independence, 200 years of stigmatization took a toll. Today, hijras are almost always excluded from employment and education outside of their religious roles. They are often stricken by poverty and forced to resort to begging and prostitution. Most are victims of violence and abuse, harassed by police and refused treatment in hospitals. 

Image by Carol Foote

In a step forward, India’s Supreme Court officially recognized hijras as a third gender in August of 2014, in a law that ordered the government to provide third gender people with quotas in jobs and education. The ruling came just six months after the Supreme Court’s decision to re-criminalize homosexual acts through the reversal of a 2009 Delhi High Court order.Despite being legally recognized and protected under the Indian Constitution, the court’s choice meant that hijras would be breaking the law if they participated in consensual homosexual relations. 

Image by Carol Foote

As Neysara told NewsLaundry, “without trans representation, laws made by cis people for the ‘other’ can be damaging.” Prior progress gained seemed to be lost in 2019 when activists protested the Transgender Persons Act. According to Ajita Banerjie, a Delhi-based gender and sexuality rights researcher, this “set the whole movement back by a decade.” 

Image by Carol Foote

Today, as many as half a million members of the Indian hijra community live within the guru-chela system. Despite facing discrimination, abuse and living on the margins of society, the community continues to “remain a visible presence in public space, public culture, activism and politics in South Asia," Dr. Jessica Hinchy told BBC. On a high note, NewsLaundry says that policy-led interventions have been advocated by stakeholders in the system, with the mission to integrate “trans folks into mainstream society to reduce and ultimately end their dependency on this system, if not the system itself.” 

ABOUT THE PHOTOGRAPHER:

Carol is based in Queensland Australia and has always been drawn to street photography, searching out the most colourful and quirky characters in her own environment. After studying documentary photography at college, she travelled to Yunnan, China to photograph the wide diversity of ethnic minorities in the region. However, over the past five years, her focus has shifted to Tibet, Nepal and India. As someone who has always been drawn to unique and different cultures, the regions rich heritage and local traditions make it a haven for her style of photography.

Check out more of Carol’s work here.

Claire Redden

Claire Redden is a freelance journalist from Chicago, where she received her Bachelor’s of Communications from the University of Illinois. While living and studying in Paris, Claire wrote for the magazine, Toute La Culture. As a freelancer she contributes to travel guides for the up and coming brand, Thalby. She plans to take her skills to London, where she’ll pursue her Master’s of Arts and Lifestyle Journalism at the University of Arts, London College of Communication. 

Hidden Afghanistan

From the apricot and walnut groves of the beautiful Panjshir valley, to the strips of cultivated green set against the dry pink and tan of the mountains in Bamyan, to the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir, I went in search of the real Afghanistan.

The country’s rich cultural history, rugged landscape, and the legendary generosity of Afghan people, have long been a draw for adventurers and travellers alike, but for now, still struggling with deep-rooted insurgency, Afghanistan remains firmly off the radar for most. Plagued by terrorism and war, the most recent cycle of bloodshed and instability has left the country with a reputation for violence and little good ever makes our TV screens in the West. For too many, our narrative around countries like Afghanistan has been reduced to a single story.

As part of my work on a book called Life in the Himalayas — looking at people’s everyday working lives throughout this diverse and magnificent mountain range, from the high plateau of Tibet to the foothills of Myanmar — I spent three weeks documenting the lives of agropastoralists in Afghanistan, and exploring this battered but beautiful country. I set out to focus on rural areas, everyday life and culture, going in search of the real Afghanistan, away from the vestiges of war and terror.

Kabul

I started off in the bustling markets in the country’s capital, Kabul, a chaotic little jungle of trinket shops, carpet sellers and giant chunks of Lapis filling windows. Occasionally I felt uneasy under the stares of watchful eyes as I poked my way through the dusty streets. Mostly it felt like any other vibrant bazaar in Asia, people going about their busy day.
 

I ate in smoke filled restaurants sitting cross-legged on cushions. Whole sheep carcasses are hung directly above the stove and the cook simply butchers off the bits he needs and throws them into a big black pot, along with fistfuls of fresh herbs and spices. Huge roundels of hot naan breads are piled high on the tables and you pay for what you eat. There is a genuine old-world feeling in Kabul that is rare to find these days.
 

Panjshir Valley

From Kabul I travelled to Istalif, a district famous for its distinctive blue pottery, and then by road to the stunning Panjshir Valley, one of the most celebrated places in Afghanistan, located in the heart of the Hindu Kush mountains. Its name means ‘Valley of the Five Lions,’ which according to local legend refers to five spiritual protectors or ‘wali’ who built a dam here during the early 11th century AD for Sultan Mahmud of Ghazni.
 

The Panjshir river starts from a narrow gorge where snowmelt turn the river into a torrent, rich with fish. It gradually widens into the valley to reveal carefully irrigated fields of wheat and maize dotted with walnut, apricot and mulberry groves. 90 percent of farmers in Panjshir Province practice subsistence agriculture, and the war has destroyed irrigation canals and orchards, making many aspects of farmers’ lives a challenge.
 

In recent years, however, international initiatives have assisted local and regional government leaders to introduce improved varieties of wheat and educate farmers on methods for improving yields and irrigation.
 

Bamiyan

In the heart of the Hazarajat, Bamiyan is surely one of the most beautiful parts of the whole country. It was a popular tourist destination during the 1970s, but a decade later became a symbol of resistance to the Soviets. Today, although the valley is still dominated by the gaping cavities in the cliff face, and the rubble is a constant reminder of the Taliban’s rage and destruction of the two ancient Buddha, there is far more to Bamiyan.
 

Guarding the entrance to Bamiyan valley, the ruins of Shahr-e Zohak form a dramatic citadel — perched high on the cliffs at the confluence of the Bamiyan and Kalu rivers. The towers here are some of the most imposing in all of Afghanistan, and are made of mud-brick on stone foundations, with intricate geometric patterns built into their walls. With no doors, they were accessed by ladders that the defenders pulled up behind them.
 

Looking down from the citadel, the views are incredible, with the thin strips of cultivated green in neighbouring valleys like Fulladi providing a striking contrast to the dry pink and tan of the Koh-i Baba mountains.
 

At first glance, the barren hills of the Bamiyan valley appear to promise little, but the snowmelt that issues from them each spring allows the farmers here to irrigate the valley floor and grow crops like potatoes.
 

Donkeys are still the main source of transport in this rural province, and shepherds and their flocks are often compelled to walk long distances.
 

Band-e Amir

Meanwhile, the glittering sapphire blue lakes of Band-e Amir are one of Afghanistan’s most astounding natural sights. In April 2009, Band-e Amir was named the country’s first national park, 36 years after a previous attempt to do so was interrupted by decades of political strife and war.

Formed by the mineral-rich water that seeps out of faults and cracks in the rocky landscape, the six linked lakes of Band-e Amir sparkle like jewels against the dusty mountains that surround them.

Over time layers of hardened mineral deposits called travertine have built up on the shores, to create the dramatic sheer sides that now hold the lakes in place. Local lore tells a different story, asserting that these natural dams were thrown into place by Hazrat Ali, the prophet Muhammad’s son-in-law, during the reign of the infidel king Barbar.

Before gaining its status as a national park this region experienced significant habitat destruction for firewood and farmland, overgrazing and overhunting — the snow leopard has now vanished here — and also damaging fishing practices that involved using hand grenades. Today Band-e-Amir is protected by a small group of park rangers, and is still home to ibex (wild goats), urials (wild sheep), and wolves. Although numbers of visitors to the park remain small, it is hoped that in time, this region will become an important area for tourism in Afghanistan.
 

Herat

Finally in Herat, the country’s old cultural heart, I felt more welcome than anywhere else in the country. Chatting to passing nomads on the outskirts of the city, inside its little bazaars, visiting the Friday Mosque — one of Islam’s great buildings — I spoke openly with burqa sellers about the state of the country. Here I discovered an Afghanistan most people simply don’t know exists. Afghans are proud of their culture, they are welcoming, generous and have a sharp sense of humour.

On my last day, insurgents attacked one of the big hotels in Kabul. I could hear helicopters and sirens all day and was advised that it was best not to leave the house. The next morning a gunfight broke out beside the road on the way to the airport. Sand bags and gun turrets occupy every corner and the frequent security checks are a sobering reminder of how unstable and precarious daily life is for the people of Afghanistan, whose resilience remains under great strain in these troubled times.

Let us hope that one day, a lasting peace will come to this battered, but proud and ancient country, allowing travellers to experience its beauty and welcome, and to step onto the fabled silk route once more.
 

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA.

Driven by his passion for travel, the environment and remote cultures, Alex Treadway has travelled to dozens of countries around the world on assignment.

Threads of Hope and Beauty: Capturing the Resilience of Life and Culture

For more than two decades, through the lens of my camera, I have sought out the hope and beauty woven into the fabric of all life and all peoples, from forest to ocean. In the face of the myriad unrecognized plights and urgent truths of our shared human and planetary condition, these shimmering threads promise change.

Images / Words © Cristina Mittermeier / Words © Kim Frank

National Geographic photographer and co-founder of SeaLegacy, Cristina Mittermeier, releases her new book this month, Amaze, published by teNeues. An intimate collection of over 25 years, Amaze combines impassioned poetic storytelling, indigenous wisdom, and an urgent plea to protect our planet. Amaze takes you on a insightful and hope-filled journey where the human spirit lifts from every page. Here is a glimpse into the book’s luminous world.

Ta’kaiya Blaney, a singer, songwriter, and drummer for her people, the Tla’amin First Nation of British Columbia, is seen in a cedar cape. The youngest speaker at the United Nations Indigenous Forum, she is a fierce advocate of indigenous rights and environmental protection.

Canada

AS WITH MANY IMPASSIONED JOURNEYS, MY LIFE AS A CONSERVATIONIST AND ARTIST BEGAN WITH A LESSON.

A lesson that rattles in my soul like a grain of sand in a chambered nautilus shell. Urging me onwards; reminding me why I do this work. Curled deep within this hidden spiral is the unwavering memory of one of the most powerful photographs I never took.

The densely knit Amazon rainforest; home to countless indigenous peoples and the once-mighty Xingú River, now forever tamed.

Brazil

When I was a young and inexperienced photographer, I was sent on an assignment to a remote corner of the Brazilian Amazon. Flying from town to town, over vast stretches of rainforest, and in increasingly small airplanes, I finally arrived at the Kayapó village of Kendjam; home to one hundred and fifty individuals. My mission was to give a face and a name to the thousands of indigenous people whose lives were soon to be impacted by the construction of the Belo Monte dam.

Young Kayapó children will sit or stand patiently for hours, as their mothers paint their bodies with genipap, a dye made from a forest fruit of the same name. Being painted, and painting others, is a very important form of social bonding in these remote Amazonian villages.

Brazil

Late one afternoon, I saw a group of women coming up from the river; one of them carrying a tiny baby in her arms. It dawned on me that they had just given this newborn his first bath in the river; a vital ritual bath that ties a person’s fate to the fate of the river. And I had missed it. I consoled myself, naively thinking I that could find the mother in the morning and ask her to bring her baby back down to the water, hoping to recreate what I had missed. Tragically, we woke to the news that the infant had not lived through the night. By the time I had figured out what was happening, the women had already buried the tiny body, and I had missed that ritual as well.

Dismayed, I began to wonder if I was up to the challenge of this assignment, wishing the editors had sent a more experienced photographer, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure approaching. It was the mother of the baby, walking straight towards me and bawling. Nobody was going near her. As she came closer, I saw that she was cradling a dirty bundle.

In her sorrow, she had dug out the body of her dead child, and was carrying him around. Clutching a machete in her hand, she was hitting her forehead with the blunt edge as she screamed out her sorrow. Her face, her dress, her dead son; all were covered in mud and blood.

I stood there, gripping my camera with frozen fingers; paralyzed.

I could think only of my children back home and how I would feel if a stranger shoved a camera in my face just after I had lost my child. I am ashamed to admit that I did not take any photos.

The Xingú river is intimately woven into the fabric of Kayapó life. This young girl’s eyes speak of a beloved waterway about to be dammed forever, of pride in her people’s traditions, of fear for a future unknown, and of the innocence that every child deserves to live with.

Brazil

A few months later we learned that the dam had been approved and construction was to begin immediately. I thought about the beautiful, generous people I had met and how their lives would be changed forever.

To this day, I am haunted by this question:

Would their fate have been been different if I had dared to do my job and take those difficult photographs? What if my images had been beautiful enough, or dramatic enough, to change the conversation?

The Kayapó people believe that if they are good to the forest and to the river, they will be provided with everything they need to sustain themselves.

I will never know, because that day I lacked the courage to press the shutter: a mistake I never made again. From that moment forwards, I pledged never to hesitate and to make images that matter.

For centuries the Kayapó way of life has been deeply entwined with the rivers that flow through the forest. For me, this image is a powerful symbol of nature’s familial hold on the human spirit, reminding us that nature is so much more than a commodity to exploit.

Over the course of my career I have witnessed photography’s ability to shape perceptions, help societies pause and reflect, and inspire change. Being a photographer allows me to share my deepened understanding of the truth that all things in nature are part of one vast ecosystem.

Unlike people, the Earth’s diverse waterways, wildlife, and forests are intricately woven into the fabric of the whole; not claiming a separate existence. My hope is that my images will inspire a stronger connection with the nature that lies within and around us, as it is infinitely worthy of our deepest respect and care.

In a raw world that seems to bleed everyday with shriveling resources, human tragedy, and environmental ruin. Where every moment with a press of a button or a swipe of a screen, we are assaulted with distressing news, stories and images that threaten our sense of security and dim our lights, we must find ways to remain optimistic.

We must work to remove the physical and metaphorical barriers that block our meaningful connection to one another and to our planet. In my twenty five years documenting remote tribal communities around the world I have learned important lessons from their collective wisdom.

A young girl of the Afar tribe, from Ethiopia. Her people are fiercely proud and independent, having lived forever in the harsh deserts of the Horn of Africa, as semi-nomadic cattle and camel herders.

Ethiopia

Spending time with Indigenous peoples has taught me that abundance is not measured in the things that we own, but in the strength of our human spirit, and in the depth of our connection to the natural world.

From the Amazon to the Arctic, these communities nurture an intimate awareness of the web of relationships that have sustained them in harmony with nature, for millennia. I have long thought about how I could share my own interpretation of this intuitive wisdom. Among the Kayapó, the Gitga’at, the Inuit, and the many other Indigenous communities I have photographed, I have witnessed a myriad of common strands — spiritual and physical; past and future. Woven together, they become the exquisite and universal fabric of something that I have come to call “enoughness”.

Made from the feathers of birds of paradise, the Indigenous peoples in the highlands of Papua New Guinea pride themselves on elaborate personal decoration. This woman’s spectacular headdress had been passed down from generation to generation.

Papua New Guinea

My personal true north for navigating the complexities and contradictions of modern life with more planetary integrity, I search for these threads of enoughness: belonging, purpose, sacred ecology, spirituality, and creative expression in the people I meet, and the experiences I have.

I describe and show enoughness within the words and images in the first part of my book, Amaze, and I share an excerpt with you here. It is my hope that enoughness can be recognized as a path to a more fully expressed life, as we seek to entwine these threads more deeply into our own personal tapestry.

I am often asked if I gave gum to these boys from the highlands of Papua New Guinea, but the answer is no. They were at the Mount Hagen Sing-Sing, a festival that celebrated the most culturally-intact tribe, and delighted in surprising me with their bubbles.

Papua New Guinea

We all yearn to belong, whether it be to a people, or to a place.

On the spray-soaked shorelines of the Pacific Northwest, a part of the world that I am now fortunate enough to call home, the Sundance Chief of the Tsleil-Wuatuth First Nation shared with me what belonging means to him. For his people, the land is not something that you own, nor is it a commodity to be bought and sold. Instead, it is something that you belong to.

For over 30,000 years the Tsleil-Waututh First Nation and their ancestors have lived in the region we now call Burrard Inlet.

Canada

Rock, tree, river, or hill, crow, bear, or human, all were formed from the same elements by the Ancestors long ago. Their land is alive with relations, no matter the shape that relation may take. When you love, need, and care for the land, in return, the land will love, need, and care for its people. For the Tsleil-Waututh, the land is both family and self.

It is the ultimate expression of belonging.

Wearing his people’s traditional headdress, Will George, of the Tsleil-Waututh First Nation, screams out his frustration at the Canadian government for allowing the expansion of another destructive oil pipeline across his people’s ancestral lands.

Over the years I have observed that irrespective of culture and our place within the world, the path to true fulfillment often lies in finding joy and meaning through purpose. Living a life of purpose may mean intentionally raising your children wholeheartedly as compassionate, courageous citizens, of planet Earth, or it may mean developing your unique skill or talent so that you can contribute to your community. For me, it is the feeling that my passion lines up with what the world needs. Regardless, it is about recognizing your own inner value.

Seeking shelter from the relentless sun, I was invited in by this beautiful Antandroy woman, who was wearing a traditional mask made of powdered bark, a natural mosquito repellent and sunblock. She too was feeling unwell and I was moved by her humble hospitality and grace.

Madagascar

I marvel at how when we treat one another with compassion, and respect the creatures and land we rely on, our sense of personal nourishment grows in direct relationship. The elements that make up enoughness help us cultivate fulfillment from within. Rather than needing or expecting the world to give us something, enoughness naturally inspires us to give back, to others and to the planet. Cultivating a sense of belonging, embracing spirituality, and intentionally finding purpose. Tapping into existing sacred ecologies and embracing our natural gifts for creative expression. This is how we can nurture enoughness, as individuals, and as an intimately connected global community.

In northwestern Yunnan, each village has a sacred forest where the locals believe the gods reside, along with the spirits of their ancestors. People are not allowed to cut down trees, but they can collect fallen branches, mushrooms, and medicinal plants.

People's Republic of China

Enoughness is the feeling of something central being restored. It is a luminous path to a fully expressed life.

What a joy it has been to find the purposeful focus of living from enoughness in my own life; by looking carefully and listening closely to the lessons shared with me by the people who still live close to the land and who know how to carve a living from the Earth without destroying it.

The embodiment of strength, knowledge, and the rich cultural heritage of her people, who have lived in the rainforests of Brazil for millenia, this Kayapó elder is a leader in her community and a proud keeper of their traditional knowledge.

Brazil

Eyes on the horizon, Miracle, Virtuous, and Heavenly Kaahanui float with their surfboards, waiting for the next set of waves to roll in. For centuries their ancestors have practiced this art, perfecting their prowess in the water, and nurturing a deep connection with the life-giving grace of the sea. In that moment, soaked in the glittering spray of the vast Pacific Ocean once again, I know for certain that long-lasting change will only come when we feel more connected to the surge of life that is beating on our shores.

Three Hawaiian sisters wait for the waves in Makaha Beach, Oahu.

Hawaii, United States of America

Over millennia, the tireless swing of the tides has given shape to the continents and character to our coasts; morphed and bent to the will of the sea. Every day, for a few precious hours, the shore belongs to the land. Then under the gravitational spell of the moon, it is once again reclaimed by the waves. To us, however, it never truly belongs.

There is an invisible line between the familiar feeling of our feet on solid ground and the inky abyss, often foreign and fearsome, where creatures with gills, scales, and fins are better suited to survive.

[1] A curious Stellar sea lion in the rich waters of the Salish Sea. [2] Molina Dawson, a young Musgamagw Dzawada’enuxw warrior, is occupying the polluting open-net fish farm that was placed in her people’s ancestral territory without their consent.

Canada

Though bound to the land, humans have benefited from the riches of the sea since the beginning of time. We should know by now that if our oceans thrive, so do we. Why then, are we collectively failing to nurture and protect the cornerstone of all life on Earth?

As he lifts his eyes to the falling snowflakes, Naimanngitsoq Kristiansen, a traditional Inuit hunter from Greenland, reminds me that nature is a spiritual sanctuary, made all the more hallowed by the first flurry of snow in Spring.

Greenland

Knowingly or not we have abused the generosity of the sea. Perhaps we have been walking on land for so long, we have forgotten that our very existence depends on a healthy ocean. Every second breath we take comes from the sea; the oceans are the watery lungs of our planet, producing vast amounts of oxygen and absorbing countless tons of carbon dioxide.

One billion people, including many of the world’s poor, rely on fish for their daily protein. The rain and snow that falls over distant mountains, irrigating fields many miles from the shore, originates at sea. Immense ocean currents regulate our planetary climate, maintaining the perfect conditions for our fragile existence. Today, human-induced global warming and exploitation of our environment are threatening to destabilize all of this.

On a three-week long expedition from the southernmost tip of India to Chennai, I stopped in every coastal town to see what the fishermen were bringing in. The women I met told me that the fish are getting smaller and smaller, and many species are disappearing.

India

HOWEVER, ALL IS NOT LOST. WE STILL HAVE TIME TO NURTURE THE OCEAN’S INCREDIBLE RESILIENCE.

From Mexico to the Pacific Northwest, I have witnessed entire ocean ecosystems spring back to life when local communities are empowered to sustainably manage and restore their waters. Slowly but surely, communities around the world are harnessing the political will necessary to bring our oceans back to health. When we act together, we can inspire great change. This is why I co-founded SeaLegacy with my life partner, Paul Nicklen.

Zah, an artisanal fisherman, harpoons fish in the Abrolhos Reef to feed his family. Because they live in a Marine Protected Extractive Area, fishermen like Zah are committed to complying with fishing regulations and no-take zones, which benefit their local ecosystem.

Brazil

With a mission to create healthy and abundant oceans for our planet, SeaLegacy is a strong, collective voice of organizations, social media influencers and individuals working together to spark the kind of global conversation that inspires people to act. Through powerful media and art we deliver hope — the kind of hope that empowers and generates solutions. Hope can be a game changer, and hope for our planet is empowering.

I watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the molten gold of sunset saturated the twilight. Just as his ancestors have done for centuries before him, Naimanngitsoq Kristiansen waits patiently for harp seal or walrus at the ice edge.

Greenland

Extraordinary opportunities exist to restore and thoughtfully develop our oceans in order to protect them and sustain life on this planet.

Our team at SeaLegacy works with an international council of experts to identify projects that are helping to create healthy and abundant oceans. We engage a groundswell social audience of over six million followers with compelling storytelling and invest in community-centered solutions, rallying global support through our massive media network.

Through vibrant digital campaigns, we take on projects such as influencing policy makers to protect whale habitats in the Norwegian fjords, filmmaking to show the critical ecological value of keeping the Antarctic Peninsula wild and free, and partnering with indigenous First Nations communities to ban harmful fish farming in northern Vancouver Island, Canada.

Every day, through our vital work, I experience hope in action. Co-founding SeaLegacy gifts me with the ability to align the rich elements of enoughness with my deep concern for life beneath the thin blue line of our ocean.

From the air we breathe, to the food we eat, to the climate we live in, we all depend on our oceans. Today, they are more important than ever. Healthy oceans absorb vast amounts of carbon from our atmosphere and help reduce the impact of climate change.

Honduras

On nights when the opalescent moon brings waves crashing against the rocky shoreline of the coast that I call home, I rejoice in the pungent scent of saltwater. The sea is like a forgotten womb from which all life emerged. It is here, at the water’s edge, that my heart beats its loudest.

Perhaps it is the reassuring cadence of the tidal rhythms or the way that the waves roll in from the open ocean with playful, operatic grace, carrying dreams of faraway underwater kingdoms. Or perhaps it is the way that the ocean’s low, sacred rumble rests in my soul, long after the last grain of sand has washed from between my toes.

A shimmering sunset is reflected in these shallow waters, as traditional Vezo fishermen draw up their boats for the night.

Madagascar

As a photographer, I feel an urgency to remind my fellow humans that our destiny is inexorably tied to the fate of the sea. As a scientist, I am motivated by the knowledge that continuing to ignore the failing health of our oceans now, while we ponder the consequences later, is an invitation for disaster.

Combining the two, I am a fierce advocate for our planet and strive every day to make a tangible difference. With hope as a beacon, my dream is that together we can turn the tide and achieve healthy, abundant oceans for all.

Two young Vezo girls, like water nymphs more at home in the ocean than on land, gather fish for their family’s dinner.

Madagascar

CRISTINA MITTERMEIER is a photographer, writer and conservationist documenting the intersection of wild nature and humans. Co-founder at SeaLegacy.

THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA

Wild Africa

Leaving the urban setting and modern life behind, for 15 years I have been privileged to travel through some of the wildest regions left on our planet — compelled to capture the unique personalities and expressiveness of the magnificent wild animals of Africa. All in black and white, all part of one big family album.

My first meeting with Africa was like a thunderbolt.

There was a part of me that wanted to return to our roots, and Africa resonated with me like the animal instinct that lies deep within each of us. After travelling for thousands of miles, I always have this incredibly vibrant feeling of being in entirely unknown territory. Africa is always evolving, free, and wild... hugely wild.

Above: Lioness (2015)

Above: Hugs of lioness (2006)

Utterly disconnected from our urban environment, for more than fifteen years I have been drawn — mind, body and soul — to photograph the remarkable animals from this land of light and contrast.

Above: Cheetah before the rain (2006)

Above: Elephants and bird (2015)

I am constantly inspired by the sense of serenity and harmony between the natural landscapes and the diverse wildlife that roams these lands.

Everything is connected and the animals are totally adapted to their environment. I take photographs based on my gut instinct. For me, the thing that matters the most is the connection.

Above: Elephant, The road is closed (2015)

Above: Elephant crossing the river (2009)

I cannot stand strict pre-visualisation or procedures that lock people into pre-formatted ways of work. My conviction is never to prepare my shots. I prefer to be guided by luck, and to be inspired by the ever-changing spectacle of wildlife. Out in the field, I often work with a local guide who will drive the car while I concentrate on taking photos. It is very important to be utterly present in the moment, and not to be disturbed.

Opportunities in wildlife photography never come twice.

Above: Zebras crossing the river (2015)

Above: Rhinos quartet (2013)

For me, there is no difference between animals and humans in terms of photography technique. When I take a picture of a lion or a giraffe, I use exactly the same approach as when I photograph people. I try to capture something of the animal’s unique personality and expressiveness, as well as their strength and sense of freedom. I believe my pictures can create a connection between the animal and viewer, as the viewers discover a personality in these animals, and realise they have emotions too.

Above: Lion in the grass (2013)

Above: Two zebras (2004)

Above: Cheetah portrait (2013)

I am always filled with a great sense of tranquility and happiness when I leave the urban setting and modern life behind — travelling for weeks on end through some of the wildest regions left on our planet.

For me, there is nothing more powerful than the strength and beauty of Nature, and yet, at the same time, it is very fragile and precarious.

Above: Elephants crossing the plain (2013)

Above: Giraffe in harmony with their natural setting (2013)

Today, the fall of wildlife in Africa and elsewhere is disastrous.

I cannot know if we will discover more effective methods to halt or reverse this devastating change. However, I choose to hope and believe that we can. I believe that people are fed up with shocking images of destruction, poaching and deforestation — and yet it is of grave importance that we share these images, as we must all know what is happening on our planet. I don’t know exactly how photography can help preserve our wild ecosystems, but I feel proud when people experience my images and understand that these animals are just as ‘human’ as we are — with a personality, and a family.

Above: Lion, The small one (2013)

I believe that we must have a sincere conscience for our fellow animals, and the devastating impact our species is having on so many of them. We must open our minds and hearts to the fact that we all part of a living, breathing planet, and recognise that we are just one piece of this wonder.

We must leave more space, more life, for all the other species, because we will not survive their extinction. It is humanity’s greatest challenge.

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THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON MAPTIA

LAURENT BAHEUX

I am a self-taught French photographer inspired by the soul of nature and wildlife. I express this only in Black and White, like a big Family Album. www.laurentbaheux.com