Well, another night spent at the finicky mercy of Ethiopia. Slept nearly perfectly until 2 a.m. when the rooster decided it was time to get up. Then a cow chimed in, until about 3 a.m., when the Ethiopian Orthodox Church came in and dominated the night with religious chanting piped through loud speakers. Apparently, it is Saint Mary's Day. And it starts at 3 a.m...and went until about 7 a.m. Claude joked that he'd hired the priest to do our wake up call. I told him he better not have tipped him. It just went on and on and on.
Then, when I was getting dressed, I noticed that my lower back had been eaten raw by mosquitos, despite my spraying myself down, wearing extra clothes to bed, using the barrier on top of the bed. Ugh. I can't seem to avoid being mosquito meat. I just keep taking the malaria medicine and hoping for the best.
Early start today, due to a long drive through the Mago National Park to see a Mursi camp. These are the famed "lip plate" women. They number about 5000 tribal members, and are pastoralists. The government has mandated that lip plates only be done by family choice, however I don't think I saw any girl over 12 without one. To start, the women cut a slit in their lower lip and insert a smaller clay or wood plate. As the skin and lip stretches, they insert larger and larger plates. Some women get so stretched that the loop can fit over head if she pulls it over the front of her face. They don't wear them all the time, as they can become heavy and unwieldy. So the low lip just hangs loose, down the front of her neck. It took some getting used to. Supposedly, the bigger the plate, the more valuable she is as a bride.
Mursi men need to win a donga - a stick fight in which two men pummel each other with heavy 2 m. sticks - the winner is carried off by a group of eligible girls, who them decide which one of them will marry him.
Still not sure that the sexes come out even here.
The people don't wear much in the way of clothes. The men will have a sheet, or a toga style thing on, or a skirt tied around the waist. The women wore some draped garments, or just skirts. There was some intriguing body modification going on, besides the stretched lips and earlobes. They deliberately cut their body and put ash in the wounds to create raised scars. They are done in beautiful, symmetric patterns, often on the stomach, above the breasts, or on the arms.
The experience of going into their camp was pretty overwhelming. I never felt unsafe, but there were machetes and machine guns and rifles all over the place. And once the picture taking started, it was a feeding frenzy. They want their picture taken, and the money that comes from it, and they will grab you to get your attention. It was all the women and children in the village, as most of the men were out with the livestock. To get away from the tugging, I had to pack my camera away and that did the trick. They were also selling their lip plates...which was weirdly fascinating. They would pop it in, then take it out and offer to you for 10-20 birr, depending on the size. One I bought was still wet. I know.
We then headed down the mountain and stopped along for lunch before heading to the Jinka market.
At the market, we saw another type of tribal dress. These are women who butter their hair, and wear it in a sort of modified bowl cut. They often were decorated animal skins and elaborate jewelry as well. We were also completely badgered by young men selling - everything. Bracelets, head rests, skins, gourds, whatever you wanted...or didn't want. Nothing worked except rudeness, and finally saying, "I don't care how low the price is, I don't want it!" They would leave, then reappear. I was extremely frustrating because I was trying to take some pictures, but I had to be careful because some people don't want their picture taken, or demand money, little children are grabbing at you, and it was hot as hell. So I was done by the end of the day.
We walked out of the market to find some shade, and one little girl kept following me. She would mimic me, so we did silly dances, made google eyes, and said funny things. The thing that most amused her was when I put my hands behind my ears and flipped my sunglasses up and down. That made her laugh. She was also intrigued by my shoes for some reason. Maybe because she wasn't wearing any. She skipped off into her neighborhood as we got into the trucks and waved goodbye. That was a nice way to end today.
Then, when I was getting dressed, I noticed that my lower back had been eaten raw by mosquitos, despite my spraying myself down, wearing extra clothes to bed, using the barrier on top of the bed. Ugh. I can't seem to avoid being mosquito meat. I just keep taking the malaria medicine and hoping for the best.
Early start today, due to a long drive through the Mago National Park to see a Mursi camp. These are the famed "lip plate" women. They number about 5000 tribal members, and are pastoralists. The government has mandated that lip plates only be done by family choice, however I don't think I saw any girl over 12 without one. To start, the women cut a slit in their lower lip and insert a smaller clay or wood plate. As the skin and lip stretches, they insert larger and larger plates. Some women get so stretched that the loop can fit over head if she pulls it over the front of her face. They don't wear them all the time, as they can become heavy and unwieldy. So the low lip just hangs loose, down the front of her neck. It took some getting used to. Supposedly, the bigger the plate, the more valuable she is as a bride.
Mursi men need to win a donga - a stick fight in which two men pummel each other with heavy 2 m. sticks - the winner is carried off by a group of eligible girls, who them decide which one of them will marry him.
Still not sure that the sexes come out even here.
The people don't wear much in the way of clothes. The men will have a sheet, or a toga style thing on, or a skirt tied around the waist. The women wore some draped garments, or just skirts. There was some intriguing body modification going on, besides the stretched lips and earlobes. They deliberately cut their body and put ash in the wounds to create raised scars. They are done in beautiful, symmetric patterns, often on the stomach, above the breasts, or on the arms.
The experience of going into their camp was pretty overwhelming. I never felt unsafe, but there were machetes and machine guns and rifles all over the place. And once the picture taking started, it was a feeding frenzy. They want their picture taken, and the money that comes from it, and they will grab you to get your attention. It was all the women and children in the village, as most of the men were out with the livestock. To get away from the tugging, I had to pack my camera away and that did the trick. They were also selling their lip plates...which was weirdly fascinating. They would pop it in, then take it out and offer to you for 10-20 birr, depending on the size. One I bought was still wet. I know.
We then headed down the mountain and stopped along for lunch before heading to the Jinka market.
At the market, we saw another type of tribal dress. These are women who butter their hair, and wear it in a sort of modified bowl cut. They often were decorated animal skins and elaborate jewelry as well. We were also completely badgered by young men selling - everything. Bracelets, head rests, skins, gourds, whatever you wanted...or didn't want. Nothing worked except rudeness, and finally saying, "I don't care how low the price is, I don't want it!" They would leave, then reappear. I was extremely frustrating because I was trying to take some pictures, but I had to be careful because some people don't want their picture taken, or demand money, little children are grabbing at you, and it was hot as hell. So I was done by the end of the day.
We walked out of the market to find some shade, and one little girl kept following me. She would mimic me, so we did silly dances, made google eyes, and said funny things. The thing that most amused her was when I put my hands behind my ears and flipped my sunglasses up and down. That made her laugh. She was also intrigued by my shoes for some reason. Maybe because she wasn't wearing any. She skipped off into her neighborhood as we got into the trucks and waved goodbye. That was a nice way to end today.
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