Today we drove out to see another tribe, the Galeb, near the border with Kenya in Omorate. It was hot all night, and it only got hotter during the day. We drove out and along the way saw dik-diks, vultures, a very large bird called a Kori Bustard (the neck on that thing was huge), and more of those amazing termite mounds. Again, there were some that had to be at least 10-12 feet tall. They just dot the landscape like terra cotta chimney stacks.
We weren't told to bring our passports, so there was some mild bribery needed at the Omo River. It isn't the official border with Kenya, but the river acts as a symbolic border, and this is as far south as you can go in this part of Ethiopia, so they check visas before you cross over. Or they don't if you pay them.
We pulled up to the river, and it was immediately evident that Adventure Girl would need to be extra willing to Woman Up. We had to slide down a 50 foot, 70 degree steep riverbank to get into a dugout canoe that was only about 12 inches wide, get rowed across the river, scramble up the opposite riverbank, then repeat it all on the return. It was exciting, but pretty harrowing. I was just glad I didn't take a tumble into the river. All of us were covered in dust and mud.
Young boys swam across, making conversation with those of us in boats. Their heads would pop up out of the water, and I'd hear, "Hello! What is your name!"
We arrived on the other shore, then the boats returned and picked up the rest of the group. While we waited, we were quietly surrounded by some of the tribal members and the children. Lots of naked little boys had come out to see who the strangers were who were desperately scrambling up their riverbank.
The Galeb people live about a quarter of a mile from the riverbank, on a very hot, very dusty piece of land. They enclose their village with a fortification of sticks and tiny little doorways that required us to get on all fours to get through. Their distinctive style of dress are head pieces that they decorate with bottle caps. They make a jangling sound when they walk. They also pierce their bottom lip and insert a white feather. The women just wear skirts and beads, and some kind of headdress, either the bottle cap variety, beads, or even a small turban.
The visit went pretty well. There is a weird dynamic that would replay itself in the days to come. We try to enter the village with a local guide, taking no pictures, to see the homes, the livestock, and basically just be respectful. Then the negotiations and the shooting starts. It is only when you physically put the camera away, will the requests for pictures stop. We've been told that this system works best because it is putting money into the hands of individuals. For my part, when we see these tribes most of the men are gone, out working in the fields or grazing the herds. That means that the women get the cold hard cash, and I'm all for that.
After our blazing hot visit to the two Galeb villages, we crossed back across the river, where many of our group were literally hauled to the top of the riverbank by small, but very strong, boys. We got back into our car and were idling, waiting to go, when a small group of tribal girls approached the car. They were teenagers, and they peeked inside the car, and all of us smiled and waved. Ceci was in the front seat, so she rolled down her window and the girls stuck their heads in...then they spotted the side mirror. They all took turns looking into it, and laughing. Then they felt the AC blowing out of the vents, and they would put their hands on the vent, then press it to their chests, and it was clear that they had never seen or felt that before. Ceci pulled out her iPhone and I told her, "You are going to blow their minds," and she put the phone up and turned on the reverse camera, so the girls could see themselves. They shrieked and jumped back, laughing. Then they were fascinated. It was a wonderful, small, sweet moment. Watching their faces as they saw something they had never seen before.
We weren't told to bring our passports, so there was some mild bribery needed at the Omo River. It isn't the official border with Kenya, but the river acts as a symbolic border, and this is as far south as you can go in this part of Ethiopia, so they check visas before you cross over. Or they don't if you pay them.
We pulled up to the river, and it was immediately evident that Adventure Girl would need to be extra willing to Woman Up. We had to slide down a 50 foot, 70 degree steep riverbank to get into a dugout canoe that was only about 12 inches wide, get rowed across the river, scramble up the opposite riverbank, then repeat it all on the return. It was exciting, but pretty harrowing. I was just glad I didn't take a tumble into the river. All of us were covered in dust and mud.
Young boys swam across, making conversation with those of us in boats. Their heads would pop up out of the water, and I'd hear, "Hello! What is your name!"
We arrived on the other shore, then the boats returned and picked up the rest of the group. While we waited, we were quietly surrounded by some of the tribal members and the children. Lots of naked little boys had come out to see who the strangers were who were desperately scrambling up their riverbank.
The Galeb people live about a quarter of a mile from the riverbank, on a very hot, very dusty piece of land. They enclose their village with a fortification of sticks and tiny little doorways that required us to get on all fours to get through. Their distinctive style of dress are head pieces that they decorate with bottle caps. They make a jangling sound when they walk. They also pierce their bottom lip and insert a white feather. The women just wear skirts and beads, and some kind of headdress, either the bottle cap variety, beads, or even a small turban.
The visit went pretty well. There is a weird dynamic that would replay itself in the days to come. We try to enter the village with a local guide, taking no pictures, to see the homes, the livestock, and basically just be respectful. Then the negotiations and the shooting starts. It is only when you physically put the camera away, will the requests for pictures stop. We've been told that this system works best because it is putting money into the hands of individuals. For my part, when we see these tribes most of the men are gone, out working in the fields or grazing the herds. That means that the women get the cold hard cash, and I'm all for that.
After our blazing hot visit to the two Galeb villages, we crossed back across the river, where many of our group were literally hauled to the top of the riverbank by small, but very strong, boys. We got back into our car and were idling, waiting to go, when a small group of tribal girls approached the car. They were teenagers, and they peeked inside the car, and all of us smiled and waved. Ceci was in the front seat, so she rolled down her window and the girls stuck their heads in...then they spotted the side mirror. They all took turns looking into it, and laughing. Then they felt the AC blowing out of the vents, and they would put their hands on the vent, then press it to their chests, and it was clear that they had never seen or felt that before. Ceci pulled out her iPhone and I told her, "You are going to blow their minds," and she put the phone up and turned on the reverse camera, so the girls could see themselves. They shrieked and jumped back, laughing. Then they were fascinated. It was a wonderful, small, sweet moment. Watching their faces as they saw something they had never seen before.
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