The hottest place on earth

I have never been so scared.
A rush of the purest, primal fear I have ever felt washed over me as I stared into the mouth of a live volcano.
The lava was close to the surface, boiling about two stories down.
The lava lake is called Erta Ale - spitting distance from the Eritrean border.
It sounded like the sea as the lava splashed against the sides of the crater. Something burst and a fountain of lava sprayed into the air.
I looked into the volcano, the heat burning my face and the sulphur fumes choking me.
The lava was a black moving mass with cracks or orange shining through.
The light was all the more vivid because we hiked there in the middle of the night.
It was midnight and the moon almost full - waning only a sliver. No clouds. Jupiter shining bright and the rest of the stars drowned out by the glow of the moon.
When I couldn't take the fumes and the heat and the fear anymore, I walked away from the edge of the lava lake and sat cross-legged for a moment to take in my surroundings.
With the ocean sound behind me, my eyes focused on the moonlit landscape and I saw that I was inside of a second, much larger crater. And there were layers of hardened lava filling the floor of the place - light grey and hard as stone at the far edge of the crater and dark black and chalky where I was sitting. Fresh lava.
The sitting and pondering and visual exploration was supposed to calm my fears, but the power of the place overwhelmed me and I felt a mixture of awe and panic.
It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life and I could only stand if for about 15 minutes.
As I climbed out of there, I thought about how - in the United States - there would be boardwalks over the hardened lava, railings and stairs to get you in and out of the crater instead of scrambling up the rocks and a fence keeping you from getting to close to the edge of the lava lake.
I've always resented those fences, but I found myself longing for that false feeling of security. Maybe an informational sign or a guard to yell at me for getting so dangerously close.

Here's a YouTube video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySnI4RYirKw

*****'
There's a small village - more of a camp really - at the edge of the crater. Small round huts made of stacked stone. Some with no roof - just walls to protect you from the constant warm wind.
Since we did not live in the village, we did not have walls to hide behind. We just laid down on the ground between the huts and tried to sleep.
I woke up at dawn to the sound of a snorting camel kneeling not too far from my head.

*****
We were in a place called the Danakil Depression - the second lowest place on earth and the hottest place on earth.
We camped for five days - sleeping outside with no tents. I watched the moon move across the sky every night. Watched every sunrise and every sunset.
The place is barren - only salt and lava.
In some spots, it reminded me of Yellowstone National Park (without the boardwalks and roads and rangers). Colorful sulphur springs and geysers. A landscape so young, it's still being torn apart by it's own birth.

The Afar people who live there scrape out a living by mining salt from what was once the sea floor. It's white as far as you can see - just salt.
They break the salt into blocks, load in on camels and lead it out in caravans. It takes 10 days to walk from the salt flats to the village where they sell the salt and buy supplies for the 10 day journey back.

We slept outside an Afar camp for two nights and for the most part kept to ourselves - a couple from India, two Belgians, two Israelis, a band of Polish people and an American (me).
On our second day, a flash flood made the "road" impassable and we waited for the extreme heat to dry the ground.
The Indian woman and I decided to venture into the Afar camp, unsure if we would be welcome.
As we walked between the huts, people came to their doors and stared.
I smiled and tried my best "Selamneush!" And that's all it took.
Before we knew it, some women had taken us by the hand and led us into one of their homes and made us coffee. The room and doorway filled with people - all smiling.
Then and old woman took my hand and led me through the camp to see the salt caravan walking through.
I watched the sunset with her as the camels went by.

******

After days in the desert, we drove 12 hours back to the main road over sand, lava, salt and rocks. When we reached the asphalt, we were in shock.
"It's so soft!"
"We're flying!"
"It's like a magic carpet ride!"
The shock stayed with us the rest of the night as we checked into a hotel. Washed off the thick layer of grime and met in the bar for some food and a beer.
CNN was blaring from a flat screen television. Pundits shouting opinions about Joe Paterno.
My mind couldn't take it. I stood up, walked across the bar and turned it off.
We all breathed a huge sigh of relief that the assault of the sense from the television was over and raised our glasses.
"I'll never forget that as long as I live."