Today Christi and I will start visiting some of the incredibly diverse ethnic groupings that call southwest Ethiopia home. In fact, it is only within the last few decades that some of these tribes realized they lived in a country called Ethiopia. For most of their history, these tribes have been oblivious to geopolitical events unfolding around them. Their main concern was inter-tribal warfare where raiding parties carried off domestic animals and women. Of course even in this remote part of Ethiopia the accoutrements of modern living are gradually infiltrating the traditional way of life, none more so than automatic weapons. Many of these ethnic groupings are small in number and in the era of bows and arrows and spears loss of life was modest. In the era of the Kalashnikov, however, rapacious loss of life could see the end of one or more of these indigenous peoples. Another reason to visit now before their lifestyle changes beyond all recognition. Fekade begins our cultural safari with the Dorze people who live in the Chencha mountains above Lake Chamo and Lake Abaya. And the Chencha mountains are lush with vegetation, which require significant annual rainfall and boy is it precipitating today.
Perhaps the most iconic feature of the Dorze tribe are their elaborate beehive huts, which can reach heights of 12 m (36 feet). Our guide, a rastafarian-looking chap by the name of Macoonan and nephew of the village chief, says the huts resemble the head of an elephant. And much like the longevity of elephants, these huts were built to last (up to 70 years). The huts are built of bamboo and thatched with false banana leaves. And here’s an amusing point that may resonate with some of you, these huts suffer from termite damage. Unlike the West however where you call up the termite exterminator to rid your property of the pest, the Dorze take matters into their own hands. Apparently the toothy termites start nibbling away at the base of the hut so the Dorze solution is to hack away the diseased wood, in effect turning a two-story hut into a bungalow!
The interior of the hut is dark and smoky and it takes some time for our eyes to adjust to the murky light. When they do we realize we are not alone. There are several cows in one part of the hut happily munching on some leaves. The animals are kept inside for two reasons. First, as a security measure to prevent pesky cattle rustlers from stealing them and second to keep the hut warm (it’s not exactly practical to have a roaring fire in a house made of bamboo, although a modest one is burning away quite gently). Did I mention that it is freezing up here in the Chencha mountains. Outside we get see some of the locals going about their daily work, utilizing naturally growing materials. Cotton is used for weaving, while the false banana plant is used for many purposes: the trunk and roots are used to make bread and porridge; the leaves are used for thatching huts; and fibers from the trunk are used to make rope.
We cannot dillydally all the day in the mountains, though, as we have another long bumpy ride to the last town of any size in southwest Ethiopia, Jinka. The further we go, we begin to encounter an increasing diversity of ethnic groupings based on different clothing, body decoration, and hairstyles. I’m desperate to photograph every face I see, but we will never reach Jinka if I do. And if we don’t make it to Jinka, we will not have a launch pad for our foray into the remotest corners of the Omo valley to finally meet the Mursi. One way or another tomorrow will be an exciting day…
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching tale of love and test tubes.
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