While pharmacy and supermarket shelves are overflowing with UV protection products in the form of creams, mists, and even sticks, in some isolated areas of Africa, women make their own sunscreen concoctions. To cope with the scorching sun that sets their skin on fire, they find their total sunblock in their open-air pharmacy: Mother Nature. They rely in particular on a plant-based substance known for its antioxidant properties.<\/p>\n
Today, cosmetics displays are overflowing with countless bottles boasting a UV index, each more convincing than the last. Whether pocket-sized or family-sized, in spray or stick form, for urban use or swimming, modern sunscreens<\/a> bear no resemblance to the plaster-like sunscreens of yesteryear. With their sophisticated marketing and sensory promises, they transform a once-outdated practice into a comprehensive beauty ritual. However, in some remote African villages, resembling no man's lands, sunscreen is a foreign concept. These isolated areas, where water is scarce, don't have a single store within a thirty-kilometer radius.<\/p>\n The inhabitants, who live in huts made of earth and straw, lead a self-sufficient lifestyle. On a continent where the heat warps the landscape and bends corrugated iron roofs, they rely on the wonders of nature, which offers numerous remedies to those who know how to recognize them. To combat the scorching sun, the women spread tamarind bark on their ebony skin; its orange, self-hardening texture is reminiscent of pink clay.<\/p>\n