Omo Valley Villages (ii)

Once we saw our lodge by daylight we realised how gorgeous it was and we all said we had wished we could stay longer

Our bags were loaded into the roof of the van, tarpaulins were stretched to cover it all and it was all tied down and we were off to one of the Konso villages. 

Immediately we were off the van we were surrounded by little kids trying to sell us stuff made of bamboo. I loved the wee guy with the imaginative glasses and got sucked into buying them straight away. 
https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1XLhqmkmNYsBaE8gRQoSXTOlB0YpKg5lR

They also had little ‘tv screens’ for sale, where a little square of bamboo was the frame and using skewers which you turned you could roll a piece of paper, on which they had drawn a series of photos, through the frame from one skewer to the next so it looked like an animated movie. Very cute. 

A local village guide filled us in on some of the  customs of the villages. There are 9 villages with a chief in each village. The chieftainship gets passed down to the eldest son once the chief dies and the family property is subdivided between the males of the family, with divisions marked by stunning stone walls. 

Each generation (marked by 18 year periods) a pole is erected in the village square. From the number of poles they can tell how many years the village has been around. 

At one place in the square was a partially buried stone. This was the ‘swearing stone’. I guess the closest we have is where you swear on oath on the bible. If someone swears the truth of something and then it is fiund to be untrue it is said that they will suffer consequences - illness, hardship etc. 

All through the village kids followed us asking us to take their photo so they can get money out of us (about 50cents a photo). It was funny to start with but began to get real tiresome. 
These particular villages are Unesco heritage listed, partly because of the amazing use of the mountainous land which they have terraced and so are able to increase productivity. With the exception of the small amounts they get from tourism their only other income is from the land. 
https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1zY1RCMV3Uqh1JKtfKZ0L-eNpGGO-JDzxhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1uZyf0gPAj78iIRPe_4_-lvugqKXQHozUhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1SIQaehBkACk-PAXxvPHoJEazc2OvfTVGhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1J5vF4ZvzOz_xHy0WMOfVcSl4piLG567Nhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1AORbeGLXtrbeskGgddaJAMSYkKnwC_BDhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1bNc_5W1HdErmiPZ5A489BjVzkf7AYux4https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1581OIgyvmd6p4jUTRmqJ_LWDUtYOOjor

I am not sure I can say I enjoyed visiting the villages. It is very interesting to see and learn how people live but it feels wrong with a bunch of westerners with a few bob in their pockets cone to gawk and take photos of those that could not, in the wildest dreams, contemplate what we have. Their lives are far more difficult than ours but they know no different and are probably happy with their simple non-materialistic lives. I’m not sure that we are that much better off. 
Leaving the Konso village we travelled on and stopped at KayAfer for an interesting lunch in very primitive surroundings. My lunch of tibs (described as roast lamb but a lamb version of what I have had the last few days) was actually quite nice and came with a breadroll which was much easier to manage with my left hand. 
Lunch done and we moved on to the local Thursday market. What can I say. Again we were pursued by kids wanting something and getting nothing, from me anyway.   There were stalls selling everything you can think of. There were cows interspersed with the people and the stalls. People from three different tribes make up the selling population at the markets each distinct in their way of dress, all of which were rather gorgeous. The photos tell the stories. 
https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1ofJer1NjePkZtO6JVezRzL1X9LhsUoaUhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1B37-QZqpoXPDaPh_-iRIJN-7FUcNuzoDhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1aiAWwIAxxByrCJZeGCFnBlEQydzelAzNhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1fO_amsxjql3EiFHNgHoQ7tXyHElB85x8https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1Pi3wxrGdhxqBtBgQ1vkEpO70ocEDWbTjhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1MSBLqg-4hp408FIg9AH50KzGonHfPeunhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1831ICEkM7b422vCn0zyyjR2CsKxRwqr1https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1rCsBK0hYhgAKBl7iyfojU1VfWVFYAGOrhttps://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=19bBzFLL_pSOrJFoTes0H2CTY74cWx9t5https://drive.google.com/uc?export=view&id=1Sq_636p-LQ2UbeHO3w0Ju3R_pOD8Ds1N
Again we all felt uncomfortable being the tourists gawping at these people going about their daily lives. Sure our dollar makes life easier for them but I hope that our dollar doesnt ultimately make them lose the important elements of their culture and heritage. 
We arrived at our ‘Resort’ in the town of Jinka. Not really sure that Resort is the right word as it is a little disfunctional and each of us has an issue of some sort with our room, but we can only but laugh about it. 
Dinner was hilarious. Not because of the food but probably because we are getting to know one another well enough to be able to laugh together and at one another. No precious people here. The final laugh was when I went to order two espresso’s (having seen a rather fancy machine). Once establishing with the barista that I didn’t want milk in either I then gave up when I found it too hard to explain that I didn’t  want tea in my coffee either. I gave up and couldn’t speak by the time I returned to the table. One of the guys went and resurrected the situation by asking for Ethiopian coffee and the barista asked if it was ok out of the machine!!!  Yes perfect thank you. And it was a brilliant coffee - probably keep me awake tonight but who cares. It has been a good day. 





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