 |
 |
| HOME | SERVICES | IN THE FIELD | TRAVEL LOG | CONTACT |
I am writing you from Kotido, Karamoja, northeastern Uganda. What an interesting place! The Karamojong people are scantily clad with plaid/tartan wraps and beads beads beads, around their necks, waists, arms, ankles and knees. I have seen a lot of kilts, also on the girls, with their long legs they look stunning. Wonder where/when the Scottish influence came in? And in the country side, the men wear only the single tartan cloth around their shoulders, I saw a lot of naked people today, they bathe together in the rivers in large groups with no shame...what has happened to us, all conservative, how man has changed.. The Karamojong men do not become men until they go out, on their own, on a raid, with a gun! They are meant to shoot and kill and take hundreds of head of cattle. 20 bullets are given, 10 for the killing of the defenders and the other 10 to defend themselves on the way home. An elder will bless his good hunting. Upon return to their clan they are welcomed as a man, he must give 10 heads of cattle to the elder who blessed him and he will be given a woman of their choice, give some cattle to her father and of course the happy couple now has cattle of their own to start their life with. I have been told that there are abundant orphans because of the raids..when a man is killed, the wife is sent back to her original clan and she may never marry again! intense! The people here don't actually eat the cows until they die of old age but they will bleed them at times and mixed with milk it will last them for food. They live in clans in large villages that have a very tight woven fence, made up of spiny bushes and sticks. The entire compound is called a mañata and when the men return from the fields they bring all their cattle into their compound, into a coral built within. Then the elders go to their wives after their long absence and the young men must make small fires around the mañata and stay up all night to protect the cattle. When an elder dies, they are laid in a seating position within the coral, no not buried. If more than 2 or 3 are such placed, the entire mañata is shut down and the clan moves on to build a new one. The Karamojan do not speak any English, because they don’t go to school. Basically, the vision of Karamoja is this: large open dusty and dry plains with small spiny scrubs. Across this windy terrain, hundreds, if not thousands of cattle are herded and sometimes hundreds of goats as well. The herders are clad only in their single tartan wrap, which the wind will pick up and strong lean naked bodies are exposed. They wear shoes made of strips of leather with wooden soles. The women wear so many beads, on their neck, arms, wrists, stomachs, knees and ankles, in bright greens, blues and yellows. Some are very tight. The women also wear brighter colored, but still plaid/tartan, cloths and they walk around or stand around with one hand in their side, elbow out, so that the bright cloth is very visible. Scars adorn their faces and bellies, whereas scars on the men’s shoulder represent their number of killing men. Scarring is done with thorns and sometimes small stones are inserted into the skin. I think if the women can bear the pain of the scarring they make for strong partners for their warrior men! Men are tall and wear brightly colored woven hats with a single feather in them. The men will also wear very brightly coloured matching earrings. They are beautiful people, the Karamojong. So, because of all the raids and uncontrolled killings, the Government has stepped in. Uganda wants to be able to develop Karamoja for businesses and bring tourists in to the Kidepo National Park, which is in the far northeast on the Sudan border, where lions and zebras and giraffes and elephants roam. In 2001-2001 the disarmament program confiscated more than 10,000 arms. (my driver David says the arms originally came from Somalia) Then the Karamojong questioned the ability of the gov. army to protect them against LRA rebels and Sudan and Kenya. Since 2004 the Uganda’s People’s Defense Forces (UPDF the army here) have made a very strong presence, and I mean every 15 kilometers there is a military camp of hundreds of shacks with soldiers. Now, where I am at, there are soldiers everywhere, driving around in trucks, in the back of trucks with guns at ready, in vehicles wearing white helmets…there are UN people, it is really unreal. I saw one of the biggest guns ever, a rocket-type grenade-launcher that is meant to create openings in barricades…scary and the very first time I used the F word in front of my crew.. I fear for the Karamojong..for the loss of their culture. Already they are being forced to attend schools and give up their guns. Even worse, I read in a report on the disarmament the following objective: “support economic diversification interventions in Karamoja to reduce reliance on livestock as a means of living”..that means they will be discouraged to raise cattle and goats..they will change and leave for the cities, where, unfortunately, they are treated as the gypsies, the lowest caste, for they are considered barbaric how they run around naked at home and scar their bodies and don’t speak English.. I wish they could keep their ways and perhaps even brand themselves so that they will become a tourist attraction. They are such beautiful people. I couldn’t photograph any of the men, but hopefully I can catch some next time. I also visited some placer gold operations, which was very exciting: every single “pan” (well, they actually use old plastic washing basins) yielded a good gram of fairly coarse gold..wow! A very successful trip, to be sure. In the first collage there is a photo of the “Chief” of Abim, a large granite dome, like the Chief In Squamish, only…..anyone who climbs it will be cursed and die! On the way home, we spent a night in beautiful colonial Soroti, where the train line that was built by the British and connected through to Mombasa (can you imagine that trip a hundred years ago? Soo cool), the train hasn’t run in decades and so the town is run down but the feeling is still there. We stayed in a beautiful large hotel at very reasonable rates (not many visitors up there), turns out it is owned by a previous Minister of Health who was accused of embezzlement ..one look at the hotel should tell you he’s guilty, but we enjoyed the hot water showers and large balconies guilt free! A huge step up from the disgusting smells of human filth we had to endure in the accommodations in Kotido.. Next we, my two young national geologists Gershom and Catherine, my driver David and I, have gotten ourselves invited to see a gold mine in the far southeast on the Kenyan border. We hope to compare the geology to our own license, which happens to be only 50km away from the mine…:) Continue
reading... |