Showing posts with label Omo region. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Omo region. Show all posts

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Here's happens after you die


LaBun, the famous Bume tribe storyteller in Ethiopia explained to me that when a person dies, he becomes the devil trickster with skin like a rock and a single horn. 



Even though he lives underground, the trickster can cause great mischief for the living. 

Do thoughts of a deceased person haunt you? 

Bume tribe, Omo region, Ethiopia, Africa

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Tribal architecture in Ethiopia's remote Omo region.



A contrast in tribal and contemporary architecture: my little old-fashion backpacking tent amongst traditional houses in a Suri (Surma) tribe village, Omo region, Ethiopia, Africa. Architects tell me that the cylinder of these houses is the strongest shape for a building.

Numbering approximately 28,000, the Dorze tribe was once known as fierce warriors. Now they are most famous for weaving cotton  cloths and these beehive-shaped huts.

It just happened that the day I arrived at the Aerbore (also spelled Arbore and Erbore) tribe, an elder of the village was getting married. There was a serious men-only "bachelor party" inside this traditional family house, located in the southwest region of Ethiopia's Omo Valley.

Nyangatom, also known as Bumi or Bume (which I believe translates as "stinking or the smelly ones"), are agro-pastoralists, growing sorghum by the Omo and Kibish Rivers. Besides fishing and raising cattle, they also hunt in nearby Omo National Park. Every time I was in the region, I would constantly hear how they were at war with the Karo, Hamer (Hamar) and Suri (Surma).

The Galeb (Geleb or sometmes I've heard them called Daasanech) tribe are agro-pastoralists, who live in Ethiopia's Omo region just north of Kenya's Lake Turkana.

The Hamar (also spelled Hamer) is a large tribe living in a number villages in Ethiopia's Omo region. They construct their homes and storage cylindrical buildings out of wood.

The Karo tribe, numbering somewhere between 1000 to 3000—depending who supplies the population figures—farm using flood irrigation on the Omo River. The smaller structures in the photograph are for storage, raised to keep rodents out of the harvested sorghum, maize and beans. In the background are homes. Although I didn't see this, I'm told very Karo family owns two houses: the Ono, the principal living room of the family, and the Gappa (not sure about spelling), which is the center of several house hold activities. Omo Valley, Ethiopia.

Many Konso villages are fortified by a stone walls as a defensive measure.  This is Busso village, located on the edge of a hill.  In order to enter Busso, you must pass through a gate and a series of stone-lined alleys.  These paths are part of it's security system, keeping the village difficult to access. Konso tribe, Omo region, Ethiopia.

This is a view from my favorite Konso village, Busso, showing the steep hillside location with agricultural terraces on the opposite mountain. Busso village, Konso tribe, Omo region, Ethiopia.

The lip-plate (dhebi a tugoin) has become the chief visible distinguishing characteristic of the Mursi and made them a prime attraction for tourists. - See more at: http://www.mursi.org/introducing-the-mursi/lip-plates#sthash.6aqp1ywk.dpuf
The lip-plate (dhebi a tugoin) has become the chief visible distinguishing characteristic of the Mursi and made them a prime attraction for tourists. - See more at: http://www.mursi.org/introducing-the-mursi/lip-plates#sthash.6aqp1ywk.dpuf
These storage buildings belong to the Mursi tribe, probably best known for the women wearing clay lip plates. Belle Village, Mursi tribe, Mago National Park, Omo region, Ethiopia.



Tuesday, July 15, 2014

First Story Project: I faced a drunk, agitated, gun-totting Mursi who wanted money.


Mursi warrior with the ubiquitous AK 47 and wooden stool, Omo region, Ethiopia. Note the scarification on his arm. The Ethiopian government tried to outlaw scarification as it could be a badge of honor showing how many people from another tribe he has killed.

You might have read: the Mursi tribe is the fiercest of Ethiopia’s Omo tribes. I’ve heard some tourists are afraid to visit them, or stay only for a short time. I simply wanted to confirm the myths, stories and archetypal dreams I heard from elders, shamans, chiefs, witchdoctors and storytellers on previous visits to the tribe.


On this trip I decided to stay in remote Belle Village, which had a huge picture-perfect mountain in the background.  Then came lengthy discussions—sometimes not so friendly, to negotiate a camping fee for our week’s stay for my guide, driver and me.

Mursi tribe Belle village in Mago National Park, Omo region, Ethiopia.

Everything was going great. But toward the end of our time in the village, the Mursi—men and women—started drinking village-made spirits. In the morning the would-be chief staggered over to demand I pay more, five times more than what we had agreed upon. Naturally, I smiled, told him what a great chief he was and replied, “No.”


The next night the Mursi were drinking again and making lots of noise. Not able to sleep, I worried what would happen in the morning when we were scheduled to leave. All these drunken Mursi carried loaded AK47s. And they wanted more money.

After we packed our camping gear in the morning, I told the belligerent chief that I would pay him away from the village, about 100 meters down the dusty road. I didn't want intoxicated gun-toting Mursi warriors becoming agitated for any reason. 

Frankly. I was a bit surprised that the usually arguementative chief agreed.

As I watched Andu, my guide, lead the wobbling chief down the trail away from the camp, I thought to myself, "Paying the unarmed chief alone, away from the others, is probably the best decision I've made today."


My guide Andu leads the the drunk chief alone out of the village as I had asked. I didn't want a bunch of  drunk gun-toting warriors becoming agitated when I paid the money we had agreed upon.

When I handed the money to the chief, he was too inebriated to count the the stack of dirty and torn birr notes. Having no one else, he asked my guide in the back seat to count the payment. Obviously he didn't really trust my guide either.