Strangers In A Dry Land

It was the tail end of a very long day, sweltering and dusty, and 100 angry villagers in tiny Omuthiya, Namibia, many wielding ceremonial clubs, others guns or bows and arrows, were crowding us up against our pickup. Our interpreter was negotiating fast and hard in Oshivambo, the local tongue, but the people weren't getting any happier. Clearly, we had a problem.

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