Updated: May 29, 2021
My story began in a land where nature is a diversity of colours and the ocean shares the shade of the sky.
My name is Tomack,
I am the eldest of three boys. One day, my father said to me, "Tomack, my son, I gave you this name in memory of my father". Something strange is that my name also means "never stop moving" in our language.
My family, and those before us, live a nomadic life.
This means that we constantly follow where the food goes.
Since we are always on the move, we live in a small shelter that we can easily pack. It has been this way for generations. We travel, hunt animals, eat roots, berries, and nuts that we gather. Finding food is a daily struggle for us.
Two nights ago, our hunt failed and instead of a feast we ate small fish and berries. It has been two days now since my belly has been roaring, and I cannot remember if I ate that meal two days ago, or if it has been two full moons. Regardless, today will be a special day for me and my brother. It is the moment when we become old enough to follow our father on a hunt. We have dreamed and envisioned this day for as long as I can remember.
For our people, hunting is the only way to survive. It is therefore essential for us to be prepared, to learn how to track, trap and make tools and weapons. We are delighted to finally be able to contribute to the survival of our people with food.
to be continued...
Story by Thomas and Philippe Etienne
anthropologist reference (dad)