Day 45 May 26 2018 Karo and Hamar Villages
Another long drive over a rutted road and another set of tourism dilemmas.
We arrive at a Karo village and meet our guide Solomon.The Karo is a smallish tribe of 9000 spread over 3 villages.The villagers decorate themselves with body painting and ornamentation.The women have a hole under their bottom lip through which they insert flowers.
We first went through the village which was on a plateau and were met by the villagers in full decoration being photographed by a flock of tourists.We were told that if we wanted to take photos it would cost 5 (AUD0.25) each.Given what I saw going on we walked on through the village.When the other tourists left we were confronted with the group you see above.Unsure of how to distribute the money I gave Solomon a lump sum and he distributed it.Frankly not my idea of fun.
After a visit to the market in Dimeka we head out for a Hamar tribal male rite of passage called bull jumping. Apparently this is a must see and we also are happy money is distributed and we are assured that it is not staged and that it is pure luck we are there on the day.
As we arrived we passed groups of women preparing food and drinks. We were offered a tasty mealy mix of hot maize and beans cooked in a huge pot. For some time, we sat in the shade with a group of Hamar men and women sitting together chatting.Hamar women are distinctive with their hair in tiny plaits covered with a mixture of red earth, butter and incense. On this day many were also dressed in highly decorated and beaded skin skirts. Beside them a young woman (sister of the man who was the centre of the ceremony) was singing and periodically blowing a small long horn. Wishing good life for the young man. As we sat we were offered coffee-tea – a hot drink made from the husks of coffee beans and served in a calabash.
After some time groups of young women moved off to an area at the top of the hill and began dancing, singing and chanting. The dance form included moving together in a small circle with times of rhythmic jumping. This continued until young men began appearing from the bushes down the hill. Quickly many of the young women ran towards them waving long saplings, calling and pleading.
Unfortunately the tourism paparazzi are there and in spite of having lenses the size of Texas feel it necessary to thrust them into faces. The good thing is the Hamer appear not care and get on with their ritual-there is no sense of posing as we had seen earlier in the day. We make a promise to ourselves to take photos from behind everybody else and concentrate on groups and backs. There are some exceptions to this but these are shots from afar.
The ritual was explained thus – that the young men are know as “marzzes), from our understanding these young men have already completed the rite of passage by jumping the bulls. We point out the women are not running away from the beaters but rather towards them! In fact it is considered lucky to be struck and the young women can be seen to in fact encouraging the marzzes some of whom appear reluctant.
As they moved up the hill the men would take saplings from the women and whip it across shoulders and back. At one point one young man jokingly gestured his sapling towards me – everyone around us laughed heartily as I cringed and whimpered “NO” – not so the strong young women
While this continued across the hillside, the young man, who was to jump the bulls as an entry to adulthood, stood alone at the top of the hill.When asked if he was nervous he said he was not, just excited.
After some time the Marzzes collected under the tree where the women continued dancing and chanting close by. The group of men painted each others faces patterned with the sign of the Ethiopian cross using limestone (white) and an ochre-like paint (red).
The Marzzes moved back down the hill to the shade, sitting with the other village members, where coffee-tea was served. Along with stronger gin-like home made spirits and homebrew were served. The Marzzes sitting together while again the women danced and chanted around them.
This takes place over a matter of four hours and makes one feel more comfortable as an observer because we appear to be having no impact on the events as they unfold.
As the sun began to set the group moved up to the village where a blessing with milk and final preparation before the ceremony was made. The young men grouping together for the blessing and final preparation. As we mixed with locals there was laughter, talking, and charades – with us and about us. People were amazingly inclusive and amiable considering the intrusion on their ceremony.
The young man emerges naked and walks across the field.Following the whole group moved up the hill to a cleared patch of land where young men were corralling and controlling a line of cattle. After hours of inactivity chaos breaks loose as the women dance around a circle and the beaters grab the bulls and manoeuvre them into position to be jumped. There are breakaway bulls charging into the crowd there are bulls being dragged backwards by the tail and that old stand by horn twisting. It takes time but the bulls are finally arranged it a line and the moment has come. the crowd good-naturedly joked with us – one older man offering that I jump the cattle. A young woman with a baby on her hip took Mel under her wing and guided me into a position where I could see. Undertaking tourist crowd control she gestured and moved people out of the way, as groups trying to photograph moved into the path of the young man jumping.
Seeming oblivious to everyone around him the young man stood naked at the end of the line of cattle (held horn and tail by young men).
He runs at the first bull jumps and stands on its back and then runs across the back of the others he then repeats and get ready to go again this time he falls in between the middle bulls and has to get back up to complete.
Such was the emotion in the crowd and press of people I did not count the number but the young woman guiding me quietly said “finish” – and suddenly the crowd began moving back.
We were quickly lead back to the car and on the journey back to Buska Lodge we began to quiet the mass of sights, sounds, smells and experiences we had witnessed. To have been able to sit with this ceremony the whole afternoon and evening was powerful. We felt to have been allowed by the Hamar to witness there ritual was incredible though understandably intrusive.We shuffle back to our cars completely overstimulated by the colour the sense of drama, the noise and the he effort to try and understand what just happened. On reflection it probably makes more sense to simply remember it as an amazing experience.
As we left the evening phase was about to begin. As explained this firstly meant the killing of a goat and cow for the festivities ahead. The meat once prepared would be barbecued around a large fire and served to all who were present.
