Henry Nguyen's Photo Albums - ohhenry

Walking Sticks
2 quetzales for a walking stick and we were off on our way!

Support
Five horses followed our ascent, ready in case of fatigue or injury.

View on the way up
We scarcely paused to take in the view, intent as we were to make it to the top before it got too dark.

View on the way up
An arresting play of light and clouds.

First view of the volcano
We rounded a corner and, like that, it appeared.

View of the volcano
The landscape changed radically, from organic to inert, terrestrial to near lunar. I liked the weird planes and angles.

Approaching the volcano


Approaching the volcano


Approaching the volcano


Approaching the volcano


Hiking the volcano
Gandalf and Frodo were a few steps behind, just beyond the border of the picture.

View from the volcano
Our first reward: this view from the slope, above a carpet of clouds rolling slowly over the valley.

View from the volcano
Gray gave way to blue as the sun set.

View from the volcano
... then to luminescent purple shortly before nightfall.

Lava
Our second reward: lava, alive and oozing, hot and noisy.

Lava
The lava seemed to burn brighter as evening descended.

Lava


Lava
The lava radiated, pleasantly warm from the right distance, unbearably hot from just one step closer.

Dog
This dog slogged with us the whole way up...

Dog
...then just chilled out in front of the lava, as if the hike and heat were nothing at all.

Marshmallows
Some were clever enough to bring marshmallows for toasting.

Marshmallows
Evidence.


It seems I was not the only one to enjoy the view!

Practica Picnic Dialogue 1.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 1.jpg 2008-06-14

Practica Picnic Dialogue 2.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 2.jpg 2008-06-14

Practica Picnic Dialogue 3.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 3.jpg 2008-06-14

Practica Picnic Dialogue 4.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 4.jpg 2008-06-14

Practica Picnic Dialogue 5.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 5.jpg 2008-06-14

Practica Picnic Dialogue 6.jpg
Practica Picnic Dialogue 6.jpg 2008-06-14

Baby, it's cold outside!
Quebec City, winter


Cold enough to drive a man into the back alleys . . .





deep underground . . .


and into the arms of an absolute stranger.

L'Avenue Tango
If Triangulo were in Quebec, would it look something like this?

Nancy Lavoie
Red-haired owner and instructor? Check.

Pucci the Cat (as in Cappuccino)
Animal daemon? Check.


Funky, laid-back vibe? Pole in the middle of the dance floor? Check. And check.


Cute little bar in the corner?


Check!


Dedicated exclusively to Argentine Tango? What do you think?


Deep, abiding love between the studio's owner and her pet? Aww . . .

Leave in thrall
Don't speak French? No matter. The language of tango is universal!

Rio de Janeiro
La Cidade Maravilhosa!

Expansive sea . . .


. . . and endless beaches.


Beach Culture
Soccer Volleyball


Two on two. No hands. No double-touches. Full size net.


I counted 17 touches.


Copacabana Beach at dusk.

Fishing boats



No ice for these fine fish?








Three swift machete strokes and voila.




Outdoor exercise facility






The weights are made of concrete molded in pails . . .


. . . and paint cans. (The gyms in the city use modern equipment)


I couldn't help but think "Flintstones."


Brazilian stud


Vietnamese-American dud?


They're using bottle-caps as checker pieces.

Professional players
Norwegian on the left and Carioca (local of Rio) on the right. They are practicing for a tournament.

Capoeira practictioners
I asked if I could take their photograph.


They agreed, but regretted . . .


. . . that I had only a camera . . .


. . . and not a camcorder.







Tram to Santa Teresa
A hillside neighborhood abandoned by the wealthy early last century, claimed by bohemians in the '60s and '70s . . .


and full of charming colonial houses . . .








. . . mansions . . .








. . . and mailboxes.











Poor man's concertina wire




Escadaria Selaron
Tiled staircase on the way down from Santa Teresa.





An outdoor art gallery.










Rio Scenarium
A prominent jazz club in Lapa, a neighborhood known for its nightlife.


I wandered in during the day . . .


. . . and took pictures of its three floors . . .


. . . of antique decor.

Feijoada
Signature Carioca brunch traditionally eaten on Saturdays.

Composer Jobim and lyricist
Moraes would hang out here and watch The Girl from Ipanema go walking by. Thus the song. http://tinyurl.com/acrk

Samba Show
They performed everything from Samba to Capoeira to Forro (an accordion-based music from the north) and beyond.


Here, and in the preceding picture, is Capoeira. For a video, see here (link expires soon): http://tinyurl.com/axhwl

Samba dancers
In their high heels and 4ft. tall headdresses, these women were very impressive.


One of Rio's favelas (slums).

Favela rooftops
Strangely, Rio's favelas are located high on the hillsides with great ocean views.

Favelas abut rich neighborhoods
On one side of the street is the gated house of a well-off family.


Directly across the street is this favela house.




House of former Fiat President
Favelas were encroaching. Instead of a wall, he built a school house next door.


Favela residents


Hardware store in the favela. You can't go in and browse, as it's just a counter.

Rocinha
This is a different favela from the one previously pictured. Notice how it's built right up the side of the mountain.







More Rocinha
To the right is another wealthy neighborhood, including an American school with tennis courts.





I like how they used a wheel to improvise this hibachi.


Rocinha butcher. Some gruesome parts one does not see in our supermarkets. Again, no refrigeration.

Seen it in US, seen it in Brazil
I guess power lines speak to a universal human desire to toss up our shoes and get 'em to catch on wires.

Maracana Stadium, pre-game
It was wild. I placed a small bet on Vasco and got into the game. Darn that we lost!


Soot fell from overhead. We feared the stadium might be collapsing and cleared out!


Carioca graffiti . . .


. . . has a style and palette all its own.





Muggings are not uncommon in Rio. I fended off these offenders, but only barely.

Cristo Redentor at Corcovado Mtn
Famously overlooks Rio. Clear day, but so high up it was in clouds. Waited an hour, but didn't clear. Missed the views.


I foolishly walked most of the way down Corcovado. This took a very long time.


But I did get some nice views.


Jackfruit


On the way down, I encountered this burned out shell of what appeared to be a fairly new car...


What happened to it and its passengers?


Why hadn't anyone removed it?

Cable cars
The 1st ascends to Morro da Urca, the 2nd to Pao de Acuacar (Sugar Loaf Mountain).

Views from Morra da Urca


Views from Morra da Urca


Views from Morra da Urca


Views from Morra da Urca
Cuter than squirrels? Maybe!

Views from Morra da Urca
This plant inspires medieval thoughts . . .

Views from Pao de Acuacar
The Cristo Redentor stands atop the highest peak on the right (note the covering clouds).


The long crescent on the left is Copacabana Beach.


Ipanema Beach lies beyond it toward the horizon.


I have yet to see a city more beautiful.


Those aren't specks, they're rock climbers. Madness!

Rodizio style dining
An all-you-can-eat buffet where the waiters go table to table with skewers of every kind of meat. It's hard to keep up.


I put my life in this man's hands.


He's a local hang gliding instructor. That's our glider in the foreground.











Above is the hang-gliders' ramp. Paragliders take off from below.


"Look at the horizon, not at the edge of the ramp."


"Keep running in the air a few steps after we have cleared the ramp."


"Are you scared, Henry?" "No."


We landed on the beach below.


Only after we landed did he hand me this disclaimer and ask me to sign it. Wouldn't have been in this order in America!

Floresta da Tijuca
A tile map of the rain forest in which I hiked after my morning glide.








Despite it's long snout, I don't think this is an aardvark or an anteater.


There were six or seven of them on this tree, picnicking on jackfruit.


That was my last afternoon in Rio.

Welcome to Buenos Aires!



A city very different from Rio . . .








. . . full of stately, European-style buildings . . .








. . . and the occasional secret agent!

La Casa Rosada
We have the White House, they have the Pink House. Evita addressed the people from the balcony on the left.





An anonymous park at lunchtime.


You might notice 2 couples (neither of which are particularly young) making out. This was not uncommon.

Dog Park
I've been in Manhattan too long; these dogs looked gigantic to me.


Here's an act I haven't seen before. A leap into broken glass.


I noticed he did get nicked a little bit in one spot.

A pirate selling peanuts. . .
and a clown jotting notes. You don't see this every day, I thought. I took a pic, then turned, but then the pirate . . .

. . . whistled me over.
Uh oh. He asked for my guide book. Why? They had published his photo, but in a previous edition. So we took another pic.

Three Clowns
But then the clown got jealous. We had to include him too.


Rush hour


Narrow sidewalks mean single-file lines at bus stops. I noticed later there's another couple making out in this picture.

Obelisk
I was taking pictures of this landmark when this random guy appeared (right corner) and started taking pictures of me!

Did he know he was in my frame?
He is a Porteno (local of Buenos Aires), and a serious photographer. I asked if he'd take my picture using my camera.


He took it, but all askew. Artistic license, I guess!




Shrine to Dante's Divine Comedy
E.g. it's 100 metres tall to reflect its 100 cantos and each floor has 11 or 22 offices to reflect the stanzas in cantos





Argentina has experienced much political upheaval, so it's no surprise to see so many protests.


They were waving a big Argentinian flag.

Things I like about Buenos Aires
Below, a cafe. Above, the National Academy of Tango. Those two alone could keep me well-occupied for some while.

Cafe Tortoni in the morning
The tuxedoed and mustachioed waiters are in no hurry.


I'd love just to hang out here and read and engage friends in conversation . . .

Cafe Tortoni at night
. . . then listen to music at night.





Suave looking bar.


Suave looking restaurant.

Cabana Las Lilas Steakhouse
I guess I looked tired. "Too much work?" asked the taxi driver as he drove me home. "No, too much steak."

El Teatro Colon
I took a tour of this renowned opera house.


It was magnificent.


We were only allowed to take pictures in the foyer.


Though we saw other interesting things too, like backstage where they build the scenery and paint the sets.


I attended the Sao Paolo symphony a few nights later and surreptitiously took this photo.


I was so woefully underdressed I felt something close to shame. But it was a nice evening nonetheless.


Another day, another protest.


I would have joined in, only I'm quite sure . . .


. . . that the second from right would have put a swift end to that nonsense.


On the way to the Congreso building, one sees a small, statued plaza . . .


. . . that is covered in graffiti.


Doubtless the site of many protests.

Palacio del Congreso



Is this an advertisement? A practical joke? A plea for help?

Stoplight Street Performers
A 1 minute performance at the red light. They finish and collect change from the drivers before the light turns green.


Buenos Aires has a respectable theater district with foreign and local productions.

Breast Cancer Billboard
Located right on the sidewalk. Compare this to the Janet Jackson uproar. Are we a nation of repressed Puritans?

La Boca
The edge of La Boca ("the mouth"), a neighborhood located at the mouth of a once important river.


A working class neighborhood, La Boca was the birthplace of tango.


One sees older cars here.


And even older modes of transportation (though this is the only horse I saw).

Public Art
This artwork reflects life and living in La Boca today . . .

Public Art
La Boca is home to Caminito a short street famous for its brightly colored houses.

Public Art
In the old days, locals asked incoming ships for spare paint to doll up the siding of their houses.

Public Art
La Boca of yore was the realm of sailors, bars, n'er-do-wells and knife fights.

Public Art
Tango is said to have been inspired by the movements of the knife-fighters. I can believe it.

Public Art
Don't know what's going on in this painting, but it looks a little questionable from a moral standpoint.

Caminito in La Boca
We're not looking at public art anymore, this is a real building.

Caminito


Caminito
Caminito has a street-fair atmosphere, even on a weekday morning.

Caminito


Caminito
I sat on these steps . . .

Caminito
. . . and watched these two for a short while.

La Boca
This is what the siding looks like without the paint. Drab, isn't it?


A cop going by on a 4-wheeler.

Palermo
A middle-class neighborhood with many parks, museums, botanical gardens . . .


. . . full of classical statues . . .


... and feral cats. Dozens of them.


Yet the garden was clean and most of the cats were not flea-bitten. Locals petted them freely, without hesitation.


The effect of a nice botanical garden with all these statues . . .


... and all these quiet cats . . .


. . . is very pleasant.


"But where do the cats go in the winter?" I don't know.


Some might argue that there are things even more pleasant than botanical gardens.


I half expected Tintin to emerge from this old bus. Crumbs!

Cementerio de la Recoleta
Recoleta Necropolis.


A city of tombs.


Recoleta neighborhood is exclusive, its cemetery, prestigious.


Here lie prominent families of Buenos Aires.


I sensed here a particular kind of respect for patriarchy that to me felt outdated.


What's it like in these tombs? Let's press our noses to the windows.


Serene . . .


. . . and otherworldly.


Entire families are laid to rest together.





These tombs are complex structures. They even have basements.


Evita's grave is well tended.


But, eerily, the graves of some others are not.


Did the remaining family move away or die off? Or simply forget?


I ask you, is this appropriate graveyard behavior!?

Mate (pronounced mahtay) vendor
Argentinians drink a lot of mate tea. You see people carrying with them thermoses and drinking-gourds.


Buenos Aires is less 'old' than I may have made it out to be. This store is located in a mall devoted to modern design.


Nonetheless, you can still encounter a man such as this one.


He looks as if he has just stepped out of the 1930s.




El viejo Almacen
On my last night in Buenos Aires, I attended a top notch tango show at this restaurant.










Music . . .





. . . singing . . .


. . . and the main event.


















We've all seen Andean musicians before, but these guys were a cut above. The had the crowd clamoring for an encore.


Goodbye to Buenos Aires! I next headed to Peru to see Machu Picchu.

It's Christmas time in NYC
And time for a stroll down 5th Avenue to take in the Holiday window displays.


The displays ranged from the avant-garde . . .

Andy Warhol-idays
(get it?)


. . . to the more traditional . . .


. . . even if the traditional displays at times felt vaguely reminiscent of a childhood nightmare.

Almost sinister
Now we know what becomes of the naughty ones!


The windows at Bergdorf Goodman were the best.


The women admired the antique items and clothing . . .








. . . while the men reveled in the erotic undertones.





If I were a male mannequin . . .


Animal magnetism, part one.


Animal magnetism, part two.


Animal magnetism, part three.


A lovely sight.

"If you have a problem . . .
and no one else can help, maybe you can hire the A-Team." If not, you can hire us. Fancy a slice of red velvet cake?


Munitions specialist Emily Guilmette.











Ladies and gentlemen, for your own safety, please take a step back.


3, 2, 1 . . .


Holy!





Do you know what causes Old Faithful to erupt?


A combination of Mentos (the freshmaker) . . .


. . . and Diet Coke. It's true.


Still don't believe me?


The proof, as they say, is in the puddle!

Lima Airport
Though you might mistake it for your local mall. I bypassed Lima and headed straight for Cusco.

Cusco, Peru
Welcome to Cusco! (Note: This was more a photo-op than it was a reflection of real life in Cusco.)


First dinner in Cusco . . .


. . . and out go the lights! Eh, dinner by candlelight ain't so bad.

Folklore Show
Great costumes. Scary, even. The goblin on the right called me to the stage to dance.

Folklore Show
But my having just been in samba and tango country, the local traditional dance seemed underdeveloped.

Train Ride to Machu Picchu
It's a 4.5 hr train ride to Machu Picchu from Cusco. Very scenic.


I spent half of the train ride with my head out the window taking in the landscape. I must have looked like a dog.


By accident or fate, we are born . . .


. . . into such different circumstances.

Choclo - not your standard corn
The kernels looked plump and juicy. In fact they were starchy and dry. I ate two rows before surrendering.

After the train ride
It's a 50 minute bus ride on this switch-backed road up the mountain to Machu Picchu.

View from Machu Picchu


Machu Picchu
Lost city in the mountains in the clouds.


Unveiled.





The Spanish never knew about Machu Picchu.


The Incans? They forgot about it.


When it was discovered less than 100 yrs ago, only a few peasants knew of it. It was covered in centuries of growth.


Incans used no mortar. They shaped stones to fit together like pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.

Caretaker's Hut


View from Caretaker's Hut
Machu Picchu is ringed with mountains.


They grew choclo here.





Llamas!


Machu Picchu was built, occupied and abandoned all within a brief 100 years.


We still don't know exactly what purpose it served.


A touch of blue.





Watch your step.


You might fall.








I like how the terracing mirrors the mountain behind it.








As if Machu Picchu wasn't enough, the Incans built even more on this mountain, an hour's hike away.




Cusco
At an altitude of 12,000 ft. the air is noticeably thin. I quickly tired walking uphill. Coca leaf tea helped.

Sachsay Huaman
Ruins of an Incan citadel outside of Cusco.

Bigger stones than in M. Picchu
The largest is said to weigh 340 tons. The stones came from as far as 20 miles away.


3 tiers of zig-zagged walls. Sachsay Huaman could hold 10,000 people.


The zig-zag structure meant that anyone trying to attack a wall head-on would expose their flanks.








Landscaping for purely aesthetic purposes? I don't know what other function it might have served.

Plaza de Las Armas
The main square in Cusco.


Cathedral from the 1600s. You might notice that women still carry babies in traditional backpacks.


Gorgeous inside, but no photography allowed.


The Spaniards destroyed many buildings, but rebuilt atop the remaining Incan foundations.


This strange mish-mash architecture is everywhere.


Incans favored trapezoids.


One sees many older women dressed like this.

Qoricancha
The Spanish built their church directly atop the Incan Temple of the Sun. Quite the gesture!

Qoricancha
More Incan stonework up close.

Inside Qoricancha
What remains of the Sun Temple. At one time it glittered in gold.

Inside Qoricancha
The Incans used to put some kind of substance in those 'windows' in the wall to act as a shock absorber.

Inside Qoricancha
Behind the flat stone faces are male and female joints to hold it all together. Good against earthquakes.

Inside Qoricancha
What appears to us now as gray plain stone was once highly decorated.


Note the 14-sided stone.


Why!?


On the way to the airport, I spotted this muscle car taxi. The next day, I was back home.

Hey!


So . . . do you wanna see some pictures from my trip?


We'll be your best friends if you do . . .


We'd be delighted if you did . . .


Yeah? Okay, then. This way!


First, I spent a day in London.


In London, they think "Mature Cheddar & Marmite Grilled Panini" sounds appetizing. See - http://tinyurl.com/8tk5


I think that stuff's for the birds. Let's get outta here!

Sheraton Addis
The most luxurious hotel on the continent of Africa. Oasis or mirage?


The minute you leave the hotel, it hits you . . .


. . . the reality of crushing poverty. Tin roofs are held in place with heavy stones.


The satellite dishes look out of place.


I guess everyone needs their fix of TV.

Addis Ababa
A hopeless shambles?


Or a work in progress?


Check out this rickety wooden scaffolding.





Those are men up there. Looks perilous!


This must be the scaffolding store.

Minibuses connect the city
The conductor hangs halfway out the window. Since today is Black Friday, let's hop in and go shopping at the Merkato!


The Merkato is the largest open air market in Africa. Who knew rope could be so attractive?


Flooring is measured and cut right on the street.


Shirts, too, are sold directly from the street.


A cliff face of butter.








A shopkeeper's pride.

What are these?
These fibrous twigs are to be chewed and then used to clean one's teeth.


"This is a kind of Colgate," he explained. I liked that.


Women selling coal.





The lumber yard.


I don't think many of the people in these photos had seen pictures of themselves before. This surprised me.


I would show them their pics on my camera, and inevitably, the same response. First, incomprehension. Then, recognition.

Three sets of crossed hands
Then, the beamingest smiles you can imagine, followed by excited commotion. As rare an experience for me as for them.


They're chewing khat, a leafy, mild drug. I'm diggin' those blue socks.


There's a certain strength and fraternity in those hands.


"Hey, you've got it all wrong. I'm buying this for a girlfriend!"


I don't think they believed me.


Does anyone remember that show, Hollywood Squares?


Seriously, though, people take pride in their work.


These are bricks of salt.


Sorted and stacked.





Making do . . . a dirt ditch becomes your studio.













The two burdens



They invited me in to meet the family.


He has his mother's eyes.





I like His Bashfulness in the middle.

Chewin' on khat
If this were a different time and place, it would be Tom, Huck and the boys puffin' on corn-cob pipes.

Home away from home
Improbably, after a long day of aimless wandering, I spy the Seattle Cafe & Pastery Shop!


It was decorated with pictures of the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, Snoqualmie Falls, the skyline, ferries . . .


. . . Safeco Field . . . I sat down and had a macchiato and some cake. I felt as if I were back home!


Of course, they serve macchiato everywhere in Addis. This is an Italian influence, not a Seattle one.


I talked to the manager. The owner's brother and sister live in Seattle, thus, the inspiration for the cafe.

Lucy at the National Museum
When I met Lucy, it was weirdly familiar and familial; it was like meeting an aunt (albeit a very skinny one).

"For Diesel Engines," maybe . .
. . . but, in this context, for toilets. This container is what you use to flush the toilet at the National Museum.

Traditional Ethiopian Dance
I kept seeing familiar elements in the performance (e.g., what looked to me a lot like the Charleston).


"No, I did not take the cookie. No, I am not hiding it behind my back."

Tether ball
I challenged the kid on the right best of 3, then promptly lost the first 2. But I was wearing my dress shoes, so . . .


A warm smile . . .


. . . goes . . .


. . . a very long way.


I remain away for another week-and-a-half. If I discover anything interesting, I will try to send more pictures.

Lalibela and its rock-hewn churches . . .





. . . were an hour and a world . . .

. . . away.






Though funky be the children . . .


. . . these were *not* city folk.











Saturday is market day in Lalibela. Farmers and shepherds . . .


. . . make their way into town, on foot, to attend.


It was strange to see so many people *walking*.


The Saturday market.


A chunk of sugar cane provides refreshment.


And, yes, those really are bundles on sticks. You thought they only carried those in cartoons, didn't you?


Here, they sell lemons . . .


. . . salt . . .


. . onions . . .


. . . candles for church . . .


. . . and a little reincarnation.


The bathroom scale was a huge hit. Everyone wanted to see how much they weighed.


Will she grow up . . .


. . . to become her?


To become her?


Traditional Lalibelan roundhouse architecture.





Even older . . .


. . . were Lalibela's churches, each carved from a single piece of rock.


Some churches were massive. (The bricks in the columns are from a restoration)


In the 12th century, the Lalibelans dug giant trenches into the rock . . .








. . . then sculpted what remained into complex, stories-high churches. On this side, the original columns remain intact











There are a dozen such churches in Lalibela, each church bearing a distinct style.





Passageways through rock connect churches and their plazas.


Darkness surrounded me. I followed the light ahead. I saw people waiting for me on the other side . . .


Church visitors are welcome.


Have a look around (or up) if you wish.











Some churches were ornately painted.





Saint George, portrayed here as an Ethiopian, slays the dragon.








Sunday morning at dawn.








Really.

We'll get to this bad boy in a minute.

Harar
An old, wall-enclosed trading city filled with mosques and winding alleys. The main Islamic city in the Horn of Africa.


First, the people.


I love Harar's colors, on its walls and doors, and particularly in the dress of the Harari women.














If you gave her a backpack, would she see it as an improvement?





This one's too cute.








I came upon an area that you might call an arcade.


It seems that men will game . . .


. . . while women will shop.


Do you think that's generally true?


I could smell something wonderful. I followed the scent, thinking it would take me to a restaurant.


Instead, it took me to the spice mill.





Spice mill customers.


Here is an unsettling sight.


The two of them were loitering in front of Ras Tafari's former house, which is now occupied by a traditional healer.


It's a good thing the healer can cure numbers 1 and 6 . . .


. . . because I think I've found him a future patient.


These are by far the best samosas I've ever eaten. Fresh lentils and onions. My mouth waters at the memory!


Dinner rolls are delivered from a big basket in a wheel barrow.


These mean looking birds were perched above the butcher shops, on the lookout for scraps.








Behind this ornate door lies a typical Harari house.


The living room is unfurnished but for a series of carpeted platforms of varying heights.


The height of one's platform depends on one's status in the family. Pots, bowls and baskets decorate the walls.


Something decadent about these carpeted platforms, don't you think? I would lie on my hip and chew khat all day . . .


A carpet above the main door indicates there is a woman of marriageable age living within the house.


Shelves are built directly into the walls . . .


. . . and valuables are kept in these containers.


And now, back to the hyena . . .


. . . its clan . . .


. . . and this man.


The Hyena Man of Harar.


He is the conductor for tonight's strange symphony. A flower stem is his baton.


For centuries, the hyenas and Harari have maintained an uneasy truce. The hyenas agreed not prey upon the people . . .


. . . in return for an annual ritual (not unlike our Groundhog Day) in which the hyenas are fed buttered porridge.


The Hyena Man tradition, began 50 years ago, keeps in the same spirit. Let the music begin!


It was an eerie scene. On arrival, I could discern the dim outlines of about 20 wild hyenas lurking in the shadows.


These are mysterious beasts. On the surface, they resemble dogs, but on some fundamental, inarticulable level . . .


. . . they are different creatures altogether.


You might not guess it from the photos, but for their ferocious appearance, they had a certain shyness about them.


The Hyena Man . . .


. . . takes his bow, collects his belongings and leaves. The hyenas linger before dispersing.


The time came for me to disperse as well. On my last day in Ethiopia, a rainbow appeared. I'm not even kidding.