So when we returned the truck, and our fixer said, “That was not a good idea”. But my only thought was, “Obviously, we need to walk over to the elephants”. So we did, and we spent a nice moment observing each other, and then went our separate ways.
For what ever reason, the elephants seemed to tolerate our presence just fine. And lucky for me, because it was a great moment. Sometimes, well most of the times, I think it’s good to trust our instincts.
We were on the road to Numbi. The same road that, only the night before, beat our Land Cruiser into submission. And the same road considered, by many, to be the most dangerous in Congo. Which is saying a lot, because pretty much all Congo roads are dangerous. But we traded in our truck for bikes and decided to have another go at it.
We found ourselves on a thin ribbon of mud, clinging to the side of the mountains. And there was little room for error, as one side was almost always a drop off. To make maters more interesting, this was rebel territory. And white men on bikes, in a place where you never see white men on bikes, tends to draw suspicion. So we decided to move fast with limited rest breaks.
Moments like this happen every day, everywhere. It is completely ordinary, completely typical. Yet if we look at this moment in a different manner, from a different view point, it becomes something special.
Photography, just as life, is all about perspective.
I rented a room in Puerto Lempira, on the edge of the Caratascar lagoon in far Eastern Honduras. I spent the day wandering around town, having drinks, and doing some writing.
While sitting in a cafe, I noticed a group of young girls playing in the water. Like kids the world over, they didn’t seem bothered by the what-ifs, wants, or regrets that seem burden adults. And they certainly didn’t care that the town has been embroiled in a, decades old, drug war.
Instead, the girls were living for the moment. A skill many adults have lost along the way. It’s refreshing really, and it’s a lesson I try to remember when life’s “realities” start creeping in.
We were riding motorcycles through the night in an effort to reach Numbi. It was after midnight, and the treacherous ride had taken its toll on our bodies and motorcycles.
Exhausted, we took a break on a mountain pass. The night was dead quiet, and clear enough to see that no animals or rebels would ambush us. We did not, however, expect this amazing view. The distant volcano, Mt. Nyiragongo, was framed perfectly with Lake Kivu and a couple small towns.