We left the dusty, entangled streets of Hyderabad for our journey to Bondugulla. Four hours of highways evolving into the back roads of India’s vast countryside. Rural life was revealed as the car winded through small villages and past Lombadi Tribal people drying their crops. As we approached the school I saw the ladies on the road in their colorful clothing. They have set of fireworks in my mind…Unique women, bright colors, jewelry, pow, pow, pow. Spontaneously I head in their direction. They know I’m happy to see them, and they kindly let me take their pictures. Later on my lunch break from photographing the school I took a stroll through the nearby village. The principal of the school came with me which gave comfort to the villagers. There was no doubt the intrigue between us was mutual, I get a glimpse at life in a rural village, and they get their own entertainment by watching the tall, white, American, with a wide grin stroll past. I said no words, whatever communication was done was with my face. These moments and the people sharing themselves is a remarkable gift.