Tracks in the Sand

Goats make a surprising and unexpected sound when they are distressed. They express their fear in a way more human than you would imagine, a guttural wail that emits from the back of their throat. The goat by my feet looks terrified; its eyes are wide with panic. Its hooves are knotted together with rope and it lies on its side at the floor of the truck. This particular goat is making a final journey; from the desert pasture it has always known as home to the weekend market of the province’s capital.

I edge my feet toward me, away from the wailing animal. I shift my weight in my seat, bumping the Wayuu elder on my right and disrupting the hessian sack full of handmade Wayuu bags on my left. I look around me at the Wayuu women in their beautiful mantas or kaftans, the children on their way to the closest school, the youths hanging from the back of the truck for want of space and the goats writhing around, making a mess of the floor. It seems the back of this truck has reached maximum capacity, we are no longer able to pick up the people attempting to wave us down in the soft dawn light.

We bump along at break neck speed, passing dry, sandy expanses of desert littered with oversized cacti. This isolated land is one of contrasts, where the traditional lives of Colombia’s largest indigenous population collide with the seemingly unstoppable forces of globalisation and development. We pass a massive railway network that cuts through this otherwise barren landscape, winding its way through the desert to the world's largest open-cut coal mine. The Wayuu people see these contrasts daily, in the exploitation of their homelands by multinational mining companies and the creeping encroachment of international tourists, seeking ever more exotic and interesting beachside destinations.

A young girl seated across from me catches my eye. Adorning her blue manta is a necklace fashioned from local red stones, to be worn only by the Wayuu people. This seemingly traditional girl ferociously taps out a message on one of the two smart phones she holds in her hands, whilst leaning her head out the window in an apparent attempt to get reception. She is at once traditional and modern, an incongruous snap shot from this land of contradictions.