A friend once wondered why it is that tribal areas always seemed to have so much mineral wealth and, because of that, exploitation.
Maybe because the plains-people chased us away, maybe we were forced to flee to the forests and mountains; maybe, having exhausted all their resources, they look this way for more, look to us again.
Maybe ours has never been a glorious history of conquest and attack but of evasion and defense.
For the engineer, the land is laid out on paper. For him, it must be dealt with and overcome but to me traversing each ravine is a triumph of human will and a brief moment of glory over the earth – which they can now, so easily trample under, in their JCB. Our ancestors knew these mountains as protector and giver. Stone was stone, unaffected by fire or machete – now, no match for dynamite, the ancient fortresses are coming down. Each seemingly insignificant boulder and rock had memories. Maybe not the great tales for tourists you’ve heard but precious, so precious for a community, village or family.