Title: Lost to Germany and Argentina, again!
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The rainy season kicked in early and abruptly in the Southern half of Ethiopia. Me and my brother, both from Amsterdam, Holland, were trying to make our way as deep into the Omo-valley as possible. That lush, green valley is supposed to be the world’s largest open air museum of anthropology, with dozens of colourful tribes inhabiting villages stuck in time. By far the most famous people are the Mursi, whose women practise the stretching of their lower lips by inserting wooden plates, increasing the size of those plates over the years.
Our guide, a local man, equally skilled in spotting exotic birdlife and handling a Landcruiser on the crumbling roads, warned us that we might not be able to turn back if we pushed on. More rain was expected and floods had already chiselled away many roads and bridges, killing some hundred people in the process. Ignorant and eager, we decided to travel just a little bit further, ploughing through muddy seasonal streams, following the dilapidated road, through the small town of Konso, the hub accessing most of the Omo-valley. We made it as far as Jinka, and yes, we managed to point our lenses at a true and real Mursi-family.
Our troubles started on the way back. We barely made it to Konso, checked into the Holy Mary Hotel on the corner of central square and just managed to get our luggage inside before the skies opened up for a wash of rain lasting 24 hours on end. Those hours we spent getting to know the other quests, most of them Dutchmen. Our kind seems to be attracted to rain, or at least isn't put off by it too easily. The only other nations present were Germany and Argentina. I found this remarkable, if not annoying. Our Dutch national football team (
