Jinka is a market town in the Lower Omo Valley with a population of some 22,000 – a number that swells during the weekly market as folks from the different tribes head into town from the remote villages in the area. There are no public buses and these indigenous tribes do not have access to private vehicles so it’s either walk or perhaps ride on the back of a donkey. And these people are walking 20 or 30 miles over two days to get to Jinka and then it’s another 2-day hike to get back to their villages. Not surprisingly, therefore, there is a party atmosphere on market day. Even in the rain and its rains intermittently throughout the day. Still this does not deter Christi and I and we leave the Jinka Lodge in good spirits. Incidentally, this lodge pales in comparison with Paradise Lodge in Arba Minch, although the Jinka Lodge is far superior to the accommodation we endured during our previous visit to the Omo valley. Then we camped in the rain and had to share perhaps the most disgusting communal squat toilet on the face of the earth. In fact at that time we felt as if we had reached the end of the earth as we crossed rough terrain and negotiated swollen rivers. Even the normally reliable Dragoman truck broke down, while two out of the three 4WD vehicles that took us on our ill-fated trip into Mago National Park to find the Mursi either cracked a rear axle or broke a spring.
We are not the only travelers in town, but there sufficiently few of us that we are noticed – initially by children who all want money (“Birr, Birr,” they shout holding out their hands) and then an unwanted guide attaches himself to us and makes the most obvious statements (“they sell firewood to make fires” etc). And so our weird unwanted coterie of disciples barges into Jinka market and attracts a lot of attention, which I was really trying to avoid. It’s easier to take more natural-looking photos if no one notices you are there. Much like the Mursi yesterday, the locals clam up and stare seriously at the camera. According to our actual driver-guide, Fekade, the main ethnic groupings in the market today are the Ari tribe (which are the most assimilated into modern living) and the Banna tribe with a few Mursi thrown in. Incidentally there is a second tribe called the Suri where the women use lip discs for cultural identification, but they live in west Ethiopia and are not part of this cultural safari. We will visit several more markets and several more villages over the next week and each will have a different ethnic make-up, depending on which tribes are currently friendly with one another versus those who are historical enemies.
Jinka market is a fairly basic affair. Most people simply unroll a mat and sell whatever limited items they have brought with them. And yes they do sell firewood, and no doubt the wood is burned (our unofficial guide in not getting a tip for statements like that). Probably the most common things we see for sale are vegetables, cigarettes and alcohol, domestic animals, and clothes. The market is bright and colorful and full of energy and even though Christi are in no need of the onions we are offered I am separated from a few more Birr by the irresistible Mursi. In fact one woman grabs my arm and insists that I photograph her. As you can tell from the photo I’m a sucker for a pretty face!
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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