Arriving in Jibba village was stepping onto the other side of the world. Jibba lies on the Southeast border of Ethiopia and Sudan and we were instructed to bring along 4 armed guards with us to this remote and sometimes dangerous destination. Just a week prior a gentlemen was brutally killed by a Shifta guerilla fighter. On the bumpy way out to Jibba, the guards told us tales of deaths caused by both wild animal and guerilla fighter attacks - Not sure that this was necessarily the time or place to hear such stories, but I could bear to listen since they were each holding a large ouzi in their hand. Stepping out of the van, we were immediately surrounded by the village people giving us curious looks and long stares. Winnie and I made our way to the nearest general store to peruse the local jewelry. A bright friendly young man started chatting us up in perfect English. He introduced himself as Muluken and informed us that he worked in Jibba for the government in cultural affairs and it was his mandate to help preserve the Surma people's culture by encouraging the practices and educating Ethiopia on all that made the Surma people unique. He explained the piercing practices and the showed us several people who had lip and ear plates. Surprisingly, the people seemed enthusiastic to show us their unusual body art. During our chat we started talking music and I showed him the jewelry I was wearing in shape of a carar, an Ethiopian guitar. His eyes brightened and he grabbed my hand and as we walked he explained to me that he owned a carar and would like to play me a song. About 30 of us gathered around the tree stub just outside Muluken's apartment and he began to play his Amharic love song. As is typical in Ethiopian/Amharic music, his voice flucuated up and down the scale quickly with touches of an interesting vibrato. The melody had many minor notes and sounded a tad dark but soulful. Even though I could not understand the words, I felt the passion of the lover's heart in the music. When he finished, we responded with grateful applause. He then handed me the instrument and told me that he wanted me to have it to remember the Surma people and culture. I let him know that it would be difficult for me to haul it around for the rest of my journey but thanked him for such a generous offer. We conversed a little longer before he left for work and we said our goodbyes. As I walked further down into the village I noticed a couple of guys playing ping pong. As ping pong is one of my favorite sports I felt an urge to jump in the play. They graciously agreed for me to play the next match and so I dusted off the ol' ping pong skills and put them to shame. As we played, and I dominated the table (*wink*), a bunch of kids gathered round to watch and cheer for me. I knew I could spend hours playing, but wanted to be on my way exploring the rest of the village, so I handed my paddle to the next in line and went on my way. The town of Jibba itself was typical of a small one in Ethiopia. The dirt road is lined on both sides with metal makeshift shacks one next to another and each with it's own purpose - a home, a small, shop, a restaurant...I walked down the muddy road to where a large group of the villagers were gathered around a big tree that seemed to be in the middle of the town. I walked up to a couple of the Surma women who were adorned with all the tradition of their people. They were naked with purple robes that were draped on them like an ancient Roman robe. The top of their arms and breasts had tiny bumps in circular designs where there skin had been punctured with a hot needle. Their bottom lips had gaping holes from where a clay plate had once lived and the remaining lip skin hung and swung about like an old shoestring. Several of their bottom row front teeth were missing as well as casualties from the war with the growing clay plates for space in their mouths. Their ears held many earrings - some hoops, other beaded circles all up and down the outer portion, and the lobes had the same look as the lip with the hanging skin and gaping holes. Their faces were tattooed with different black tribal designs even more pronounced with their bald heads leaving the attention to be drawn to their faces. We both scanned each other's appearance inquisitively for several moments. One of the girls pointed jokingly to my breast and I knew what she was referring to. I responded, "I like to wear at least a couple of layers over them" and I received several giggles from the onlookers. I pointed to their tattooed faces and then showed them my colorful tattoo on my lower back, and then to their ears and showed them where I had holes from former multiple ear piercings and a belly button ring. They found the belly ring hole a shocker as it that is not a customary piercing area for the Surma...more giggles. Worlds apart, perhaps our practices weren't too far apart after all.
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