louiseinlimbo

I've already described the highlights (the Mursi lip-plates and the Hamar bull-jumping), but there were other parts to my Ethiopia trip too - meeting people from the Dassanech and Dorze (and seeing where they live), and meeting the King of Konso.  He rules over some 400,000 people, although from his explanations as to his role, he takes rather more of a Queen Elizabeth II approach, talking of 'serving' his people rather than 'ruling' them.  This to the left is his palace. He actually met Prince Charles some years ago, and hadn't heard that the Prince had just a couple of days before become a King! & we met an old Jamaican guy in Sheshamene (the rastafarian town in their 'promised land' of Ethiopia).  This guy had long ago hosted Bob Marley at his place, and he was eager to show us his old balck-and-white photos of the event.  He also told us a little about the Rastafarian beliefs, and shared a copy of a speech that Emperor Haile Selassie had made abo

My first introduction to the Hamar was a gentle one, as we visited a small village, shared a beverage and politely took a small morsel each of the goat that was sacrificed in honour of visitors (which we paid for, of course) but which was then shared between the entire village. The next day, however, showcased the other side of the Hamar people - men with painted faces, women with bells and horns, and a young male nervously contemplating his naked leaps over the backs of a row of bulls as the completion of his transition from boy to man. On the way to the ceremony site, we passed some of the men applying the mud paints to their faces, these men being the 'Maza' - men who have successfully jumped the bulls, but who have not yet found a wife and settled down to start a family.  It is their role to help with the ceremony - for example to pull the bulls into line. The ceremony site itself consisted simply of a small flat space partly up a hill, with a couple of small trees and rock

On the day I was drinking cow's blood with the Mursi, and taking my final photos of the women with (or without) their lip plates, my Queen was dying.  In the late afternoon, which is I believe when the message was released that her doctors were concerned about her health, I was watching a small Hamar community sacrifice and cook a goat in our honour.  If I'd been in London and heard that message, I probably would have joined the throng outside Buckingham Palace, but I was oblivious to what was going on. That night was the first of two in a campsite in the Omo Valley area, right down in the south of Ethiopia, so not somewhere that gave me any access to wifi.  However we'd had a group conversation earlier in the trip where I'd noted my addiction to the news, that for example the first page I open in the morning when I go online is the news - to check that nothing major has happened in the world "like an earthquake, assassination, or the Queen dying", so when the

I've long dreamed of seeing the Mursi tribe of Ethiopia's Omo Valley, although have been warned that it has become a human zoo, with any visitors surrounded by lip plate-wearing women demanding money for photos.  But I still wanted to go - wanted to see these women with my own eyes - to see a tradition that will surely disappear before long. As I made the long journey down to the Omo Valley, with a tour organised by a Spanish company (Last Places) that like to go a little deeper into the cultures of the tribes they visit, it was clear that only a limited number of people would make such a journey.  Whilst only some 500km from the capital, I believe, it is a journey of two long days' driving, much of it unsurfaced dirt tracks, all of it slowed considerably by the flocks of cows and goats being herded along those roads, the donkey carts, and indeed the random goats who have just decided that the road is a comfortable place to take a rest and who are not going to move just bec

Well, perhaps all of the tourists who come here visit Hezbollah's Museum of the Resistance, but just don't write about it because, well, this Lebanese Shia Islamist political party and militant group are classified as international terrorists by much of the West including the US, UK and EU (and due to this, I'm not including the photo I want to of one of their campaign posters with their flag in it ... who knows which surveillance systems might see and recognise it). First, a bit of background - for myself as much as for anyone else reading this.  Under a 1943 agreement, political power is divided among Lebanon’s predominant religious groups - a Sunni Muslim serves as Prime Minister, a Maronite Christian as President, and a Shiite Muslim as the speaker of parliament. Tensions between these groups evolved into civil war, however, as several factors upset the balance, especially the arrival of the Sunni Muslim Palestinian refugees in 1982, when they were expelled from Jordan.

One very strong lesson I am learning from my first couple of months of nomadism is that I must slow down!  My last post here was in Bulgaria, since which time I have taken an overnight bus to Istanbul, a flight from there to Beirut, and spent nearly two busy weeks seeing the Lebanon - with no time to write up my adventures in here.  Even now, a part of me wants to be out on the streets of the fascinating city of Beirut, but I know I have to record some of my adventures in here before I depart tomorrow night to Ethiopia!! I shall start here with the more 'conventional' side of a visit to Lebanon, being the amazing remnants of the country's rich and varied history.  My head is still spinning from the stories of Phoenicians, Romans, Crusaders, Umayyads, Ottomans, Mamluks...  & it's not just stories, but the visible remains of those different epochs, including the ruins at Baalbek of which the temple of Bacchus, above, is only one part.  A UNESCO World Heritage site, th