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Turmi - Arbore Tribe - Arba Minch - January 27

We started back northwards today. With a last detour along the Hammar Mountains to see one last tribe. The landscape here is so varied, every day has had a change in plants, elevation, birds, roads, and people. It is extraordinary.

Today we drove through a lot of dry river beds. Giant swaths of dust. During the wet season this place must be lush and teeming with water coming off the mountains. One of the drivers said that flash floods are a real problem here. People get stuck in a muddy riverbed, then lose their car or their lives in a sudden rush of water.

We were asked to stay in the cars until we were cleared to enter the Abore tribe's village. But the word got out quickly. Despite our best efforts to be surreptitious with six white Land Cruisers.

Their huts are more spread out than we've seen before, and they had corrals for cows, sheep and goats. They even have a little covered "patio" section just outside the front door where the little goat babies are kept. It is also a nice cool place to sit during the heat of the day. We also saw where the night watchman sleeps. They pick off the hyenas that steal into the village at night.

The Abore tribe, just like the others, are made distinct especially through the way the women look. They shave their heads and wear ankle bracelets until they are married, and they wear different kinds of clothes, depending on their marital status. Unmarried girls wear a leather skirt in the front and in the back, married women switch to a cotton skirt. We saw more of the "watch chain" fashions, which I love.

This tribe also practices female circumcision on girls starting around age 14. The guide said, "It is important that they be circumcised before marriage." This, of course, is a hot button topic for me. I just do not understand this.

This is where most people draw the line. Not at the lip mutilation, not at the whipping, not at the deliberate scarification (all of which are permanent, irreversible and obviously painful), but here at circumcision. Are the other things less horrifying? Women die from their lip slits due to infection. I'm sure the same happens from the wounds of the whippings. When does a culture need to change to not include mutilation of women? How do these things come to be? And how can women encourage and inflict it on other women?

These are the questions that make this trip so much mo than a vacation. This isn't a vacation. This is travel.


We left the Abore and swung more northward. My car mates were talking about massages and how much they cost in different countries. As we went through more dry river beds, we hit a particularly bad spot, and I told our driver, "Ugh, Benny, that was a good one." He laughed and called it an African massage. And it was free.

The roads here are so bad that when we hit pavement, it is kind of exciting. Never underestimate the luxury of asphalt. I've learned to take some Aleve or aspirin at lunch to alleviate the jarring headaches that come from the rough roads.

We wound our way north, snaking through gorgeous terraced hills. They were dotted with little huts and small villages. It is difficult to emphasize the variety of landscapes here. It just isn't what I used of when I thought of Africa.

Our car load was busy chatting away when I happened to spot the rest of our caravan parked in a road side stop. We sped by, and I interrupted the driver to tell him I think we missed a turn. We had to turn around and go back, and later he thanked me for being such a good guide. These drivers are hearty, especially in the south when the days are long, often the passengers are asleep or speaking such quick English that they can't keep up. After they drop us off, they must be washing the cars and cleaning the interiors, because they look fresh everyday. That makes for an even longer day for them. Many of them have a few other businesses to supplement their income: raising chickens, mushroom farming, car repair. I think Ethiopia is a place where you need to have multiple irons in the fire, and multiple streams of income.

At the little rest stop, I finally found two headrests I like, for a good price. These headrests are a multi-fun intoning tool that you see many tribal members carrying. They are wooden, "T"-shaped stands good for the head, sitting on, of even to attach your keys to. They are the tribal man purse of Ethiopia. They are decorated, sometimes elaborately, but mostly with simple carved designs.

We were the first car to get a flat tire. Benny realized it, and drove us to a garage, where he parked and changed the tire in probably under five minutes. It was so hot that the bolts and the tire were nearly burning his fingers.

But we finally made it back to the Paradise Lodge, where I have the exact same room, but presumably different mosquitos. I've doused the room in Off! so I have a chance of not being eaten alive and infected with malaria.

I sat typing out this day's log on the restaurant deck overlooking the Lakes Abaya and Chamo. There was a bank having a convention at the hotel, so many young people were taking their pictures in front of the lakes. I offered to take a group shot, but got sucked into the fray. It was entertaining for both parties, I'm sure.

Tonight, the moon was full and it came up just after dinner. It was beautifully reflected on Lake Abaya. The mountain was in silhouette, it was perfect.












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