Monthly Archives: February 2011

Oh, to be a Hamer woman, hair in ochre ringlets glistening with fat that drips down her neck, staining earthy red the heavy metal necklace squeezed tight around her neck. Or the pride of the Mursi tribe, with a 4-inch plate stretching her bottom lip until it could be the coaster for a husband’s beer glass. Or a proud Beni wife, body covered in large welts, the scarred reminder of the night she showed her love for her future husband by allowing her arms, back, legs, belly to be whipped until she bled. And then begged to be lashed some more in a show of extreme devotion destined to win his heart. And of course his family’s cows.

Hamer woman on the road to fetch water

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Yesterday I had what I like to call a calorie-free lunch. It was one of those where food comes in the front door, barely stays long enough for a polite howdy-do with my stomach, then runs out the back door faster than you can say “Uh oh.” Such a speedy exit, such lack of civility. I hate it when that happens. This lunch of Ethiopian fasting foods, in a roadside establishment whose appearance coincided with our hunger pangs, was perfectly enjoyable while it lasted, the colorful display delighting both the eyes and the taste buds. Ethiopians have plentiful religious holidays on which they fast until 2:45pm. But that’s not all.

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A stick by any other name would be as useful. In Ethiopia, men carry sticks, an implement of multiple uses limited only by the holder’s imagination. This stick is perhaps 4-5 feet long and may have a crook, a handle or nothing at its top end. It’s a simple affair really, often just a long branch. It’s carried slung behind the neck and shoulders, the bearer’s wrists draped over it, from which his hands dangle like two wilted flowers.

Sticks are useful for propping up awkwards loads of hay

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