In my 30 years at National Geographic, a recurring theme in my work was the impact of extractive industries on pristine ecosystems and indigenous communities. The bird-hunters in this shot are near a Harappan archaeological site in the Indus River Valley. Many of the traditions still surviving in this region of Pakistan can be traced back 5,000 years to the Indus civilisation. Mohana fishermen still use flat-bottomed boats similar to those from that time, and carve the same terracotta figures to offer at their modern-day temples. Bird-hunters in the area employ techniques depicted on ancient terracotta pots from the same period.

During my time in Pakistan, the region around Mohenjo-daro was notorious for kidnappings of Americans. It was a lawless area where groups of bandits operated. I ventured beyond the protected area of the archaeological site because I had heard about men who hunted birds by hand, a practice I had never seen documented. I spotted them from a distance carrying carefully wrapped bird-head hats, and arranged to join them the following day.

A troop carrier with a mounted machine-gun was arranged to transport me. I had been assigned a lone guard with an assault rifle, too, but I knew the bandits worked in groups of six. I asked him what would happen if they confronted us. He said: “Either they are lucky or I am lucky.” I got rid of this guard, who was willing to start a firefight. The kidnappers hadn’t ever hurt anyone: they just wanted the money. I’d rather National Geographic ended up poorer than I ended up dead. Luckily, I didn’t encounter any bandits.

The people who maintain these ancient traditions are poor. They hunt to feed their families. I was careful not to interfere with that, waiting until they’d finished hunting to take photographs. They wear hats made from herons they’ve previously captured and eaten, and tie other live herons to hoops as decoys. You can see this in the picture. They submerge themselves up to their chins, mimicking birds to attract waterfowl. When the birds approach, the hunters grab them by hand.

I’ve often encountered situations in which people perform for tourists, but this was genuine. They weren’t doing it to be quaint – it is a practical method of survival. The photograph captures a culture vastly different from my own and I’m proud of its authenticity. The image is so far removed from the realities most of us know. That gives it a level of mystery.

Twice, I have woken up to find the airport I was supposed to be flying into has been burned to the ground. And there have been times when I’ve gone to extreme lengths to get somewhere, such as Sudan, and then after weeks of preparation, dust storms thwarted my plans for aerial shots. Once you get through all the travel and finally are in front of a scene like this, the real fear is you will miss the opportunity to capture something extraordinary. Yet the few successes make it all worthwhile.

I cherish my years at National Geographic but I’m currently concerned about the diminishing space for social documentary work. We’re in an era rich with visual language, yet it’s challenging for photographers to earn a living from social documentary stories. This concern led me to establish The Photo Society in 2011, a non-profit aimed at supporting photographers.

I’ve had incredible experiences over the past three decades, some of which I can hardly believe I was part of. As the world evolves, I hope these stories will be understood and remembered. Many of the things I witnessed no longer exist.

Randy Olson’s CV

Born: Wisconsin, US, 1957.
Trained: “Seven years at the Pittsburgh Press; 30 years at National Geographic magazine.”
Influences: “My wife Melissa Farlow and my parents; Larry Burrows, Robert Frank, Elliott Erwitt.”
High point: “I spent seven years photographing a blue-collar family affected by Aids during a period when most images of the disease focused on gay men and drug-users in their final stages. I was able to capture both the good times and the bad. Interestingly, as time went on, the family became a support system for me when I faced my own health challenges. It’s a reminder that you can never preconceive how things will work out.”
Low point: “National Geographic sent me around the world four times to cover a story on population dynamics when the world population reached seven billion. I captured some of the best photographs of my career but the magazine only published four of them.”
Top tip: “My greatest skill is my ability to bore people. This approach helps me avoid staged photographs and capture moments when people ‘go interior’. Richard Avedon did a similar thing when he lingered under the 4x5 camera cloth for extended periods and people went interior for his portraits.”