I fought the urge to touch her. She was like an intricate red clay doll whith soft curves that were as if molded to perfection. Smeared head to toe with gee mixed with ochre-based paint, harvested by post-menopausal tribal women on a long pilgrimadge to Angola. Her long dreadlocks were each tightly bound with the same substance, and included hair from other women of the tribe, as well as animal hair. I didn't notice at first, but her bottom front teath had been knocked out for "beuty, fashion, tradition, and better pronunciation of the languadge". Above her bare feet her anckles were enclosed in thick bands made of strung beeds - the anckles in the Himba culture are belived to be the most privat and intimate part of the body, and are not to be seen by anyone, not even a sexual or spiritual partner.