Like my father before me.
We spent most of the day driving down a road to an empty village. I mean Jonestown empty. Nothing. Zip.
But on the way we ran into a talented spearmaster with whom we chatted for a little while and examined his spears. And on the way back, we came upon a group of locals chilling under a tree who suggested that the information we were looking for might be acquired from yet another spearmaster.
And so we stood and waited and I took photos, and then out of the bush walks the man above. I will confess that I think when I saw him I actually uttered the words, “You’re fucking kidding me.” I didn’t think dudes like this really existed. A man in a suit jacket, fur hat, long scraggly hair, and an assortment of handmade maces and spears, many of which are wrought from unexploded ordinance.
If anyone ever offers you the opportunity to be a spearmaster’s apprentice, just say yes. For me. Please.
This was a great way to spend our last day of Warrab assessments.