Papua New Guinea
Few places in the world challenge a photographer like Papua New Guinea. It is not a land that gives up its secrets easily. My first visit was overwhelming—thick heat, unfamiliar languages, mud-slick roads, and a constant sense that I had stepped into a dream. But I returned multiple times, each journey deeper than the last, each trip revealing more of this complex, layered country.
Visiting the highlands, where the famed Huli Wigmen stood as reminders of tradition. Their tall wigs—made from their own hair—and painted yellow faces were not costumes but symbols of heritage, identity, and spiritual strength.
I followed the river—winding down the Sepik, where culture flows as deeply as the water itself. The masks and totems carved by the Iatmul people are not simply decorative; they hold ancestral stories, spirit connections, and clan pride.
The fire dances of East New Britain lured me back again. At night, in the humid dark, the ground pulsed with drumbeats and bare feet. Flames roared as men leapt and spun over and through the flames, their bodies outlined in firelight. Nothing prepared me for the sound, the sweat, the heat on my face as embers flew.
Each return to Papua New Guinea stripped away a layer of assumption. It is a place of raw poverty—mud floors, limited access to clean drinking water, villages without electricity.
Traveling here is never easy. The air sticky with heat and dust. Roads are sometimes rivers of mud. Plans change; improvisation becomes second nature. Yet, it is in these challenges that authenticity is found. Papua New Guinea does not bend to the visitor’s pace.
