I traveled to Chad in September 2019 to join a photographic expedition of 8 fellow photographers in pursuit of the annual Gerewol Festival of the Waddobe Tribe in Chad.
Chad is a very poor third world country and we left the capital, N’Djamena, for a 9-hour rugged drive in land rovers for an isolated spot in the northern part of the country. The location had been selected by the tribe as the meeting place a few months in advance.
That week in that camp was the most brutal experience I have ever endured in my years of travel. We stayed in inflatable plastic tents with little ventilation that offered no relief from the incredible heat and humidity. We had no power almost all the time. A portable generator planned for use at night for fans in the tents failed day after day. About mid-week a sudden violent storm with winds approaching 70 mph hit our camp and destroyed the tents. Much of our belongings was soaked. I took refuge in one of the land rovers.
Also, when we arrived, I looked in my toilet kit for my Malarone, the antimalarial drug to prevent malaria. It was not there. I had forgotten to pack it. So, I spent the week in terror of being infected.
Our outfitter had a few small solar panels to supply a trickle of electricity to a cooler for cheese and other perishables. The meals were very basic but reasonably good given our isolation.
About mid-week, our outfitter’s workers heard of another Waddobe festival in another location, so we loaded up the vehicles and some old pup tents and headed out over brutal trails on what was supposed to be a two-hour drive. It was 8 hours. We arrived and discovered there was no festival. Just as we finished a rough meal another storm hit our camp and soaked all the bedding in the pup tents. The pup tents had no ventilation, so I had to choose opening the flap and risking being bitten by malarial mosquitoes and zipping up the flap and sweating through the night.
As you will learn in the video, the men danced through every night. Between their drums and singing and the flashlights casting eerie shadows on our tents, sleep was scarce.
We had 3x3 canvas enclosures for toilets and showers. The toilets were a hole in the ground. The showers were a nozzle on the end of a pump-up tank, like used to spray insecticide.
A huge disadvantage was that we had no translators, so we could not ask questions or exchange information with the natives.
The final insult was that 10 days after returning to Atlanta, Dale took me to the emergency room of St. Joseph’s Hospital. I was infected with what turned out to be a deadly version of malaria. I had no idea of the five days of intensive treatment to save my life. I lost 20 pounds in 7 days. The doctor told me I was lucky to survive. It was the worst case of malaria in Atlanta in 5 years.
It was a big adventure, but at a very high cost.
Enjoy the show.
