Omo Valley (iv)
We had a short drive on the dirt road and then, before our eyes tarmac, with a white centre line. The first we had seen for a few days and very welcome. Bini our driver took the opportunity and planted his foot. Whooooppeee.
A short stop to check out one of the many termite mounds was followed by termite 1.01 from Gaitor, so if nothing else I learned something today.
The drive was rather uninspiring, flat and smooth. The surrounding land also flat, dry but with mounds of greenery. Sometimes the mounds of greenery were littered with white blobs: cotton. One of their main money earners in this region.
We barely saw any people but in the two occasions we did stop someone miraculously appeared out of nowhere so obviously they are hanging out there but hidden in the bushes. The sheep and goats still think they own the road and Bini made sure he have them plenty of notice with constant beeps of the horn.
Soon we approached the Kenyan border in the region of Omorate. We had to register and get a guide to take us to our chosen village of the Dassanach tribe a short drive away. As we were waiting for our registration I see a guy with a big smile and dreadlocks approaching. He was the driver from my tour of Addis Ababa. Talk about a small world.
This village was different than any of the others with homes (built by the women in less than a day) covered with roofing iron, however still in the dome shape that we have seen before.
The women were all in traditional dress (and not just for us), topless with a skirt and lots of jewellery. The type of jewellery depends on the marital status of the woman as does the hairstyles. Women with children also have tiny plaits coming from the crown of their heads, one for each child. Most of the men were wearing t. Shirts and sarong type skirts. 
The village exists on agriculture; sheep, cows and goats plus some crops. They also raise money by allowing tourists to visit with a flat fee per person. Despite that we were plagued by little kids wanting to sell us bead jewellery or souvenirs and each of had a kid that attached himself to us wanting money at the end. Not as bad as some of the other villages we had been to but nevertheless it was annoying and quite daunting.
We were treated to a display of dancing by a group of the women before we left which was quite cool. By the time that we had walked back to the bus we had been surrounded by dozens of villagers; lucky we had Bini ready waiting to open the bus door for us so we could escape.
A much needed ‘free time’ was enjoyed in the afternoon where I caught up on bits and bobs and washed my muddy shoes. NZ biosecurity would have a fit it they saw them.
Just as I was headed out I got the sad news that a dear friend had lost her battle with pancreatic cancer. Two in one week. Rest in Peace Michelle I’m glad you didnt have a prolonged illness and suffer for too long.
The afternoon was spent with the Hamer tribe. This was quite different from most of the others. Their homes rondavels with thatched rooves where the family and some livestock slept, cooked and went about their lives. Around the edge was a raised piece to stop the young kids getting inside when the fire was going. I guess too bad if it was raining. This was not a nomadic tribe and they stayed put for long periods of time and so were very clean and neat. It may have been mud floors but they were well tended with care.
The place was crawling with infants, everywhere you looked. In a village of 250 there must have been at least 50 under four or five and they were so very cute. We got to see some of the youth, who danced and sang for us, and also some of the wives. The first wife distinguishable from the protruding necklace she wore in addition to the two metal necklaces worn by second and third wives.
Our guide only had one wife and one child and said he would not take another. Whether that was because he was still a newly wed, educated or for another reason but time will tell. The idea of multiple wives is to increase the probability of having sons to tend the land. Without sons there is no one to look after the land when Dad is unable to.
We paid an ‘entry fee’ to visit this tribe. 100 bir per person which covered any photos we wanted to take but the kids were still asking for stuff and it was hard to say no. Its a real difficult situation. To give them money would not make a difference to us. It would help the tribe but it would also teach the kids that they dont need to go to school and get educated, they can just stay home and get money from having their photo taken or beg. Tough call.
Our time was up and we return to the lodge with time for a rest (or to download emails etc) before dinner at the lodge restaurant. A lovely buffet where I pretty much repeated last nights selection with addition of a tomato salad. I dont normally do salads but one of our team had the same divine dish last night and loved it - she did not suffer any consequences. It was one of the tastiest tomato salads I have ever had. Easily on a par with a summer grown Greek tomato. I was ‘persuaded’ to share a drop of wine, not the Cab. Sav. of last night but just as good, then a drop of scotch drizzled down my throat as if it were nectar. Best drink of my trip.
Back at the lodge wifi hotspot I sat and checked my emails when the driver from the Addis trip appeared. We chatted and then he suggested I go out with him for the night. Cheeky little sod. Anyway I was polite (not like me at all) and told him to sod off.
A hilarious end to another great day.
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