Arriving at the border crossing we are met by Tony who is Stefan's fixer to get us across the border into Angola. We clear Namibia with relative ease, the process slows down and is more complex in Angola. Now Maz is having to pay for our visas, the migration authority is being helpful trying to make it a lot cheaper for us by getting us to pay in local currency Kwacha instead of US dollars. We were a little dubious at this, but Maz gets Tony to validate that this is correct, feels nice to know it was genuine. We stand around waiting for Tony to sort the payments individually, he must leave and go to the bank this took a good hour. Whilst waiting we observed the locals passing into Angola they just need a paper permit if the live within a certain area because the border split the local tribe in two. Groups of Women are carrying boxes of oranges on their heads some making it through others being pulled up by authorities who are confiscating the goods, this was the same for the men bring mattresses and boxes of loaves of bread. It turned out that if you are bringing goods for commercial purposes you have to pay a tax and a lot of the people getting stopped were repeat offenders of not paying. You would get the goods back ok but only if you paid the tax and a lot of the local people carrying the goods are too poor to pay it. To cure the boredom of waiting for Tony to return we made it into a game of seeing who would make it through and who wouldn't. The whole process takes nearly 4 hours. Welcome to Angola finally we are through after the authorities make one final check by having us open the truck camper to see inside, not sure what the objective was - possibly to see if we are smuggling in oranges and mattresses.

Stefan owner of Uncharted Safari welcomes us to Angola he's been waiting in the border town for us. After a quick shake of hands and introduction he says "this is just a border town" and announces "we should get out of this f***ing s*** hole" we couldn't help but laugh at his honesty. First thing is to put our clocks 1 hour forward and then start to get used to driving on the other side of the road as they drive on the right in Angola.

We pull in the next big town Fernando runs in to purchase a local sim card instead of us going through the paperwork which can take a long time from our experience with other countries. Maz asks how many Gigs do we get? Stefan responds "what's a gig man, the only gig I know is the one I go to in town" so looks like we will take what we can get.
The other thing we notice was the continuous stream of flags through all the towns, at the next town we get the opportunity to ask Stefan about them. He tells us next week is elections in Angola and each party is promoting themselves with party flags across Angola. Stefan goes on to explain that MPLA the current ruling party has a red and black striped flag with gold star. The main opposition party UNITA has a c*** on it, Maz sniggers like an immature boy, Stefan takes note and replies "not a human c*** - a f***ing chicken man", we are all in stitches! This could be a funny trip!

We stop at the petrol station, there is a shortage in the south of Angola, but we are in luck a tanker has just filled out the tanks. Stefan fills up it's 22p per litre - unreal this is because Angola has its own oil reserves, it's a sharp contrast from UK where there is an ongoing energy prices where diesel was over £2 a litre when we left. News is getting round there is petrol so queues start forming, it's interesting viewing the variety of the cars and wealth from brand new Lexus to battered old Toyotas.

Roads aren't too busy and generally in good condition only a few pot holes here and there to watch out for. We start to see remnants of civil war that finished in 2002. Mainly Russian personal vehicles and tanks. We pull over at a tank and Stefan points out the civil war started in 1976 after the Portuguese pulled out of Angola which left a power struggle between the MPLA (Russian backed) and UNITA (South Africa / American backed), you have to remember that this was the era of the cold war and there where many proxy wars between the US and Russia. The tank is Russian and fairly well intact with the anti-aircraft gun still able to rotate. We climbed up to look inside, Stephen spots part of a human leg bone. Once the military vehicles were plundered but now the government are keen to preserve the history and it is now illegal to remove military remnants hence them remaining on the sides of the roads.

As part of the Russian backed deal with MPLA the Cubans sent 50,000 men and 2000 tanks to fight for the MPLA, we continue on the road for about 3 hrs - Arabella is beside herself with the need to go to the loo but will not allow us to pull over on the side of the road. She suffers greatly trying to distract herself from the discomfort talking no stop - it's the most we have heard her talk for a very long time. Eventually communication with Stefan we explain the urgent need for the loo and its just as we actually arrive at our destination. Out jumps Fernando hurriedly pulling out a spade and a chair with a loo seat secured to it and I escort Arabella off to an area of some sort of privacy for a spot of relief even though we can hear local villages close by she didn't care.

Finally parked up at the Cuban Headquarters it's an unassuming place, dry barren area of scattered with scraggly trees/bush and a network of underground bunkers. A few locals come from the nearby village to observer these strange people setting up camp. Stefan talks to the locals ensures that it is ok for us to camp here and pays them to collect firewood for our evening fire and asks them to guide us through the Cuban bunkers. Maz, Luca and I get our head torches and follow the manchette welding MPLA t-shirt wearing local men underground. What an airy place, we find remnants of expired shells and get a few frights with bats flying low over our heads. We exit the bunkers on the far side and continue to set up for the night, as it is going dark more children arrive hiding in the trees observing us keeping their distance.

Maz decides to get his fairy lights out to light up the disused cannon beside our campfire. Stefan introduces us to the local beer Cuca and over the evening feeds us our first proper braai consisting of braai bread (cheese and tomato toasties), rump steak, sausage and sirloin, a huge meat feast. There was enough leftover which we cut up and Luca gave to the local kids who were now sitting close to the fire keeping warm. Stefan explains it is too expensive for most families to buy me in this rural area, so a lot of these kids would never have tasted meat. We all have Full bellies and off to bed and the local kids head off with a smile on their faces.

Approximately 1.10am we are woken up by a loud explosion. Stefan witnesses the event from his open tent and sees a plume of hot coals going 40 ft into the air believing it to be a mentor strike. Maz thought it was a gun going off, quickly being followed by his and Lucas tent being covered with a showering of sand. Maz was desperate not to venture out till the morning because of the unknown event. I thought it was a shot gun and couldn't figure out why sand also lands on the truck camper, I look out to see embers burning several metres away, the girls carry on sleeping so I roll over for more sleep not too concerned about the smell of burning embers.

Early morning Maz wakes up hearing footsteps around the campfire - it was safe to emerge for his overdue bush poo, he exited the tent where he is greeted by Stefan "did you hear the explosion last night"? Maz replies yeah what was it, Stefan carries on to explain that buried in the sand underneath our camp fire was a 23 millimetre Russian anti-aircraft shell which exploded due to the heat of the fire. Stefan is quick to show the 1 metre crater where the fire was, which is all that is left of the explosion which scattered hot coals up to 20 metres away, evidence of this were burn holes in our chairs, tents, placemats. Maz grabs the toilet paper, spade and throne and continues on to find a quiet spot.

I emerge to have Stefan take me to the fire crater and repeats the explanation at the same I notice Maz sitting on the throne taking in the impressive sunrise - thank god Stefan has his back to him to avoid dreadful site.

In 1991 after the Soviet Union collapsed both the Cubans and the Russians withdrew from Angola, so that explosive shell had been in the sand for at least 31 years. Stefan explains with a smile, that this has never happened to him before and that we have played our part in removing explosives for Angola, it is a rather surreal event and it really hits home what the Angolans have to face on a daily bases especially when Stefan talks to the local village men who come in the morning saying that this has happen before here. Good job we weren't all sitting around the fire when the shell exploded, but our Angolan adventure is certainly off with a bang. The girls emerge oblivious to the events of the night.

Packed up and we are off to an area off grid to spend 2 nights visiting local tribes. We drive down tar sealed road past gigantic baobab trees and then take a sharp left to follow a bumpy track for 2 hrs that is not on any maps. As we are going down the track Stefan points out the red and white painted flags on trees over the radio that indicate the boundaries of the mine clearing effort, basically don't go further as it is not safe.
We pass a tribesman roadside selling a skinned Steinbeck deer, alive in Namibia they can auction for 40,000 Rand. Education is key here unbeknown to the tribesmen Stefan goes onto explain these guys just slaughter them and sell them for 100 Rand on the side of the road.

December to March is rainy season, it is a peat track we are on with many river crossings (dry now) and the only way in and out. The track is impassable during this season and only 6x6 trucks get through but even they get stuck from time to time and the people that live is this area end up having to pay double money for supplies too.

We arrive at Oncocua town - the tribal hub where the local tribes come to local market. Stefan stocks up on beer, whisky, maize and bread. The village consists of different tribal children that are off on school holidays. Quickly the truck is encircled they are intrigued by the foreign white people especially Arabella with her light hair colour this makes her feel very uncomfortable and tells me she doesn't want anyone touching her as it is bringing back how traumatised she was in India 2015 when locals would just grab her and touch her hair - something I didn't realise that had affected her so much.

Off we continue to find a campsite several kms out of the village. Whilst in the village Stefan saw a few boys around Luca's age that help him out, he instructs them to walk to camp whilst we go to the local bore hole to full up the truck with water, the bore hole is a high structure with a large tank on top. We make a makeshift hose out of several plastic bottles, getting a local lad to climb the tank to open up the valve with a screwdriver to release the water. We then proceed down some tracks and arrive at an area suitable to be the campsite on the edge of the dry riverbed, it is an incredibly hot day 42° unbearable and unable to escape the heat we find shade under trees as our tent and truck are too hot to be in. Maz calls it a 'fly sauna' and we are dreading the prospect of 2 days here. The flies are tiny with a sting but too small to cause a problem we are told they make mopani honey.

The boys from the village are at the camp, have gathered wood and spend time looking at us and chatting with Fernando who clearly has built up a relationship with them over time. These boys have nothing, we are told one of the boys family lives 3 days walk away in the mountains and he came to the area to find opportunities. The clothing on their backs is all well worn, as for shoes well I wouldn't really say they were. Crocs that are held together by rope, half flip flops and trainers worn through with no soles, one of the boys wears an MPLA tee-shirt that has been handed out in the village to promote the elections and another of the boys clothing is very feminine basically its what you can get round here and not what you want. The boys try to bond with ours but think the heat is just too much along with the flies for any level of social interaction.

It starts to cool down late afternoons Stefan summons us to his safari truck, we all climb in and head off down some tracks where we come across the newly established bore hole where we meet the chief of one of the many small villages in the area, he squishes in beside me with a few of his sidekicks and we continue on the bumpy track to the village.

We are visiting a village of the Ovahakaona tribe and there are also some Ovahimba visiting too. The village is surrounded with a fence of sticks and branches with several huts scattered around the edges that are dome shaped with small openings made from sticks and covered with cow dung and fresh straw as roofing. We all get out of the track and Stefan hands over 2 full plastic supermarket bags full of plastic sachets of whiskey, much to the delight of the tribe which quickly gets disbursed amongst the adults. We enter the village feeling a little uneasy with the locals all looking on at us, we look so out of place. We encourage Maddalena to get her Polaroid camera out and we approach 2 young Ovahimba girls to take a photo, they watch on as the image exposes much to their amazement. Suddenly the ice is broken and Maddalena ends up having groups approach her for a polaroid they are so happy to see photos of themselves and having them to keep. We have visited many african villages but not as authentic as this, nothing is setup for tourism and they don't even hassle us with selling trinkets to us, they are just not used to seeing tourists, we are only the 4th group this year to have visited this remote tribe and the last for the year. Stefan has never bought children here and he thinks this is the first time they have seen white children, several are very inquisitive and are asking lots of questions about our family to Stefan.

The tribe are not westernised in any shape or form, western clothing is not a thing here, majority are barefoot some have sandals made from tyres. The tribes women are bare breasted with many bright coloured beaded necklaces and waistbands with gorgeous printed fabrics wrapped around their waists covering their lower body. The women are beautiful and take great pride in their appearance, their hair is caked in animal fat mixed with mud coloured black or red. Some have smooth mud clumps like a fringe studded with colourful beads others just left natural with long braids thickly coated in mud, so many different styles. As for the men they adorn colourful fabric's waist down some wear tops and most carry around manchettes.

The tribes people start to gather and initiate a dance, the first one involved both men and woman, but later as the dance move got more aggressive only the man would part take, the moves caused dust to come flying up and over us, Stefan saying that the dust is mainly made up of goat poo.

This is truly an authentic experience untouched by western culture, influence and tourism.

Stefan over the years has built a strong bond with the tribesmen and chiefs of some of the villages in this area and is the only operator bringing rare tourists to this area, he refuses to make it commercial bringing guided large groups and focuses on small groups which minimises interactions with the tribes people. Maz and I were discussing how difficult it would be to find this area let alone how to approach and communicate with people.

Back at base Fernando has dug a hole on the far side of camp, placed the throne in it and put up a cubical for loo privacy and in the other direction close to our truck he has put up a cubical with a makeshift shower. The shower seems like luxury and a little unexpected but defiantly welcome to get the caked goats s*** dust off our bodies but that can wait till daytime.

Next day we wake up to a windy hot day at base camp which is great as the flies are not about. Early morning, we head to see the Ovatwa tribe taking two 25kg bags of maize with us. It is not a big village only about 15 adults with a lot of young children some with very bloated stomachs which is a sign of malnutrition. They seem very intrigued by our pale skin and the kids, Maddalena helps to break the ice again taking a few Polaroids. We feel more comfortable and explore our surroundings, the area is barren, sticks used for fencing to keep what little livestock they have contained at night, little chicks roaming, young boys grounding maize, goats being tended by kids, woman sitting outside the dome huts made out of cow dung no idea where the men are. Stefan explains that the Ovatwa tribe are one of the first tribes in Africa, there has been rock paintings found that the tribe have drawn dating over 20,000 years old. The Ovatwa used to live in the desert closer to the sea with the Ovakucale tribe which is where the rock paintings are located. The Ovatwa were pushed out of the desert region, Ovakucale tribe killed a few important senior Portuguese officials, the Portuguese carried out their revenge by hunting down and slaughtering the tribes, the Ovatwa and Ovakucale dressed similar, so the Ovatwa decided to start impersonating the Ovahimba and dress like them and prepare the hair the same. The only striking difference is the lack of bright beading jewellery and the women wear animal hide around their waists and strips of leather to tie it together, necklaces are made from cow hide and caked in red mud. To us they look very similar, but Stefan explains that they look like poor Ovahimas and are treated like a second rate tribe, Stephan referring to them as an impoverished tribe.

We continue on our way to another small village immediately seeing a huge transition in wealth by the large number of goats and sheep. This is also a Ovatwa tribe village, but due to the village having the best blacksmith in the area the have a revenue stream that the other villages don't, he is an elderly man and well regarded for his skills to make jewellery and accessories for the Ovahimba and other tribes in the area. We go and sit in his workshop that is based under a tree with a log to sit on and a small fire he uses to craft the metals into shapes etc. He empties his stock from a bag for us to shop. The girls are intrigued by the most beautiful bracelet and rings made from bronze that he has sourced from South African military shells. l love the head gear designs made out of cow hide, Maz and Luca like the recycled iron being used for different types of arrow heads that penetrate the animal differently when hunting. I feel guilty picking out several items to buy but Maz and Stefan quickly remind me that we are supporting feeding his tribe and that he will get more money as the Himba don't pay as much.

Back at camp with our shopping we relax in the shade, take turns using the shower whilst Fernando and Stefan go off for a siesta leaving us with the boy helpers.

Slowly Luca is bonding with the boys and making games out of nothing, they say football and want us to get one for them but this is not possible. Some other local tribes children show up, they must have heard there are some odd looking white people with a spaceship looking truck in the area. The tribes children are all young girls pre puberty, they are all bear chested with coloured fabrics waist down. They all have their hair braded with colourful beads, wearing several necklaces and bracelets and bare feet. I decide to make some popcorn on the fire with the help of Luca and Maddalena we give it to all the children who are all sitting close to the fire. They seemed unsure and at the same time fascinated by the popping noise and weird looking food they were given but quickly devoured it. The girls started to feel more comfortable around us and gathered around the table in the shade where Maz, Luca and Maddalena provided entertainment with playing cards doing a variety of magic tricks that totally blow their minds.
Before the sunsets we head off with Stefan to visit another village where we see a large group of Ovahakaona kids who dance and entertain themselves with us looking on, the local tribes people and adults all stand round chatting with some of them trying to engage in conversation with us - not really knowing what was going on, just pointing smiling and nodding, eventually we politely manage to leave them to it and head back to another fire and another steak.

Next day we are up early. With the boys showing up early morning to help take the loo and shower down and sort through the rubbish looking for anything that can be reused. Having a brainwave we get the empty plastic bladder from the wine box out and blow it up and luckily we have some duct tape with us and Luca helps to bind the bladder with tape making it into a football shape, he then heads off with the boys onto the dry river bed to play football the boys are smiling and thrilled with they invention and its great to see the interaction between them all. We also bought with us old pairs of trainers that the kids don't fit anymore and water shoes, it was decided to hand over a pair of trainers and water shoes to a couple of the boys whose flipflops we worn down at the back and held together with string and another young boy who only had one shoe - both boys were ecstatic to get them.

We wave farewell leaving behind the remote country, after a good 4 hours on the road we stop at the market town of Huila where you can see the Ovamwila people normally going about their business, but we soon realise it's deserted as it is Sunday and all at church. Back in the 18th century Missionaries converted the local people to Christianity and we see them walking roadside taking their own chair to church. We then spot a Omumwila lady with child together with very well dressed young man, Stefan pulls over to discover that the man is looking for a lift to Labango and his mother and sister are waiting, we engage in a brief conversation about the costume's, the lady agrees to a photo in exchange for money so she can buy some butter to put in her hair along with a dye. Back on the move the young chap comes in our truck, we communicate via Google translate for a little then I show him photos and video clips of the tribes we visited, he was totally fascinated by them. For lunch we stop at a local haunt that Stefan likes on the outskirts of Labango and take the lead off Fernando and Stefan and try the traditional fillet de fritas with mix pap maize and cassava. The pap comes with tomato and Okra sauce, Spinach, Yellow beans in sauce like heinz. It's all produced and sourced locally and super delicious and filling.

After we drive through Labango and head up into the hills to our campsite for the night, it's like someone's back yard with well-manicured lush grass that feels so nice underfoot along with an abundance of amazing hot water & power showers which is well needed. We head out for a light dinner to a restaurant, that is owed by Durran whose campsite we are staying at. We are all very subdued feeling tired and hit the sack early.

Before we leave Durran's he presents us with pork sausages and bultong all home made such a kind gesture to us and wanting nothing in return. We leave and go further on up to Christo Rei Statue a small replica of Rio de Janeiro's Christ the redeemer that also looks over the city, then not far along the ridge top to a Hollywood looking sign of Labango. Labango is situated in a bowl with high granite cliffs, the city grew dramatically in the war with a lot of people moving north to escape persecution. From the viewpoint we spot anti-missile radars that are still in use today along with rusted remains of machine guns for shooting down South African aircraft.

Continuing on we drive the most beautiful route on cobblestone granite road high in the hills to Tundavale, here the wind is blowing a gale and the views are unreal, it's a 1km sheer drop off the plateau with the view reaching out as far as the eye can see. Stefan tells us at one of the viewpoints where we are all experiencing vertigo due to the drop below that corrupt political members would drive people to this very location and throw them off to their deaths.

We head back to Lubango top up our data allowance (keep the kids happy having internet access on the road) drop some supplies off at one of Stefan places and head to ShopRite to restock for the next few days.

We head out of Lubango on our way to the coast, at one point we head off the main road and head down a track for around a kilometre to get an impressive view of the Leba Pass road, an impressive site as we watch the trucks take their time descending on a gradient of around 10%. The majority of the traffic are long articulated trucks carrying granite to the port, they are only allowed to have one bock of granite on the truck so that the truck can maintain a slow speeds. As we drive down we pass evidence of where the trucks had not been able to break on the switch backs and gone off over the side, the trucks have been recovered and only the large granite block remains. When we reach the bottom we pass a busy truck stop where Stefan informs us they take a break for food, drink or women.

We start passing mango trees, green vegetation but this slowly this thins out till nothing left but sand and desert. The town of Namibe is where all the trucks are taking the slabs of granite for shipping to China, we make a stop along the waterfront at a seafood restaurant and order freshly caught calamari, prawns and local fresh fish just delicious and a nice change from red meat.

It's getting late and we need to get to Iona National Park before sunset so we hoof it a couple of hours and manage to arrive at the park gate with only 30mins daylight left, we pay the park entrance fees, deflate the tyres and drive across the sand to the Vanessa Seafood shipwreck right on the seas edge. It's murky, grey, windy and our bush camp for the night. Fernando and I manage to put a windbreak up between the two trucks that are positioned to shelter us from the wind. Arabella and Maddalena look like they are unsure about the night here having flashbacks to the Skeleton Coast seal colony night of wind and cold. As soon as the camper is setup Stefan and Fernando pour themselves a large whiskey and Maz and I enjoy Gin and Tonic as a sundowner even though there is no sun to see just the sea mist and sound of booming waves.

The kids all climb in the camper. We are in the middle of nowhere and can't believe we still have 4G signal hence the kids hiding away from us they are just pleased to be able to chat with friends. Fernando cooks up boerewors sausages with fresh buns and we let the kids stay settled in the camper out of the mist and wind to enjoy gadgets and dinner - equivalent to a TV dinner.

This leaves us to enjoy an evening of drink, excellent conversation, laughter and the best sirloin steaks cooked on the fire served up with a simple peri peri chillis with a mighty kick.

Such an awesome place to spend the night listening to the sea crashing close by with the whole coastline to ourselves, when you shine your head torch you can see hundreds of giant crabs scampering across the sand and the wave foam had a neon glow, unfortunately no stars are on display due to mist.

Stefan informs us if we continue to drive south along the beach when low tide we would reach the mouth of the Kunene River where we were on the Namibian side a few weeks earlier, it sounds like a good adventurous trip, maybe one for the next time. He also mentions the tribe villages that we were at a few days earlier and its possible to drive across Iona Park to get there instead of taking the route via Lubango, it's a tough drive and takes 3 days of remote wild driving. Eventually we all stagger off for sleep.

Waking early morning the sea mist is lifting and it's mild. After the peri peri chillies the spade and throne is in high demand, there is no place to get privacy only right beside the Vanessa Shipwreck close to the waves crashing on the beach - not a bad view though to relive oneself.

Maz goes and explores the inside of the remains of the ship, we are all keen to head off to warmer weather so after a few rounds of coffee we are off to the nearest fishing village to buy supplies rice/maize to take into the desert for the tribes people we are going to.

Before we turn east to the area where the Ovakucale people live we take a gravel track that takes us on a short drive up the dry bed of the Flamingo River to see the Welwitchia fields, these strange plants litter the area in all sizes until we come across a gigantic one (believe to be over 1000 years old). The Welwitschia is named after Friedrich Welwitsch who "discovered" the plant in 1859, some of the specimen are estimated to be between 1000 and 1500 years old, they have a prehistoric feel to them that can never die.

Back on route on a track that is only known to those in the know and after several hours of driving through the dusty barren landscape of the The Virei District with Shepard trees as the only source of shade from the harsh sun, we scout for a place to pitch up and eventually find a large Shepard tree to make home camper set up with also put out the awning to provide as much shade as possible.

As soon as we are settled young Ovakucale girls show up we give them a couple of oranges cut up and I had to demonstrate eating one, obviously they have never seen or tasted one before now the reactions were one of amusement. Stefan has a conversation with them in their local tongue and off they go to tell other tribes people we are about and will be going to village later. Siesta time for all whilst I go about making the meat sauce mix and dough for Potjie Pot Pizza tonight as Stefan and Fernando are keen to try it.

Early evening we visit the Ovakucale village greeted by the chief who is bare chested with a buttoned up blue blazer and a colourful fabric sarong along with sandals made of tyres he looks like he is in his 70s, we present rice, wine and whisky and then we are welcome to interact with all. The women are stunning very reserved towards us but the men are a lot more open and approachable they see willing to having Polaroid portraits taken by Maddalena and stand proud with their fine fabrics that keep the desert chill of them and their machete's. Some are home at the moment but usually the young men are away with their goats and sheep some for months on end as the land is so baron that they travel up into the mountains several 100 kms away. The women dress in very bright fabrics with an unusual head gear like a square hat, also brass bracelets around their legs and arms. Their breasts are mostly uncovered or with partial covering with fabric. Stefan explains that the women tie up their breasts with string several times around the body this shows those who have had child and it is important to have the nipples pointing up for feeding. Strange tradition and looking at older women you can certainly see it is a way of destroying your breasts.

Sun is setting and the tribes people feeling the chill they start huddling around fire, we take the opportunity to head back to camp and enjoy a successful potjie pot pizza, meats and coleslaw.

The evening conversation turns to the election - tomorrow it's election day, in anticipation we are aware that everywhere will be closed as it's a national holiday and priority is to get to a polling station. We wonder if there is change in the air even Fernando our guide who is a lifelong MPLA supporter is thinking UNITA could come into power. Although it feels like UNITA has the majority support from discussion with people, people believe that the ruling MPLA party will use electoral fraud to win the election but at the same time a lot of the rural communities are very much MPLA supporters - it is anyone's game.

Early fog and a lot the village people are walking past our set up on their way to vote. Maz hands out pens on their way to vote a lot seemed pleased to receive the pens We go about our business packing up but several people are curious about the inside of the truck, so we show them inside.

Maz takes an empty bottle and fills it with water from the back of the truck tap. An intense conversation strikes up between the tribes people as he hands the bottle to one of the women who eventually takes a sip and what looks likes confirms to others it is indeed water which silences the debate. It must be pretty weird for a tribe living in the desert to see drinking water coming out the backside of a vehicle. We then allow them to keep filling up the bottle several times they seem to be drinking a lot, eventually the head off to vote with a full bottle.