The sound of snow beneath my boots startled me. I had expected it to crack like breaking glass, but instead it whispered—a soft crunch, almost like the sand of Samburu shifting underfoot. In that sound, I could feel myself being pulled across time and space. My eyes, fixed on the white horizon of my first winter in America, glazed back to the red plains of Samburu. The snow pulled me home.
Read More
A week or so ago, I had the honor and pleasure of attending a unique tradition in Samburu culture. Before I begin, I will preface by saying that out of respect to Samburu and this emotional day, I did not take any pictures. To start, one must understand a little about Samburu culture and society.
Read More