Living in Dimeka police station in my tent

When we got back to Dimeka, Gadi asked why I was staying at a hotel (funny that?!) and that my stuff would probably just get stolen so I should move to the police station and camp there. Which I did, and their “police stations” or dusty areas in the middle of the road, became my new home. I went and took a cold shower in the rented shower place down the road which felt so so good because wow was I dirty, dusty and sweaty. Mmmm.  

Discovered a little breakfast spot which sold the only fruit juice in hundreds of kilometres. It was a great find. When they had it. They served mango and avocado juice which is a nice new discovery, and sometimes pineapple. Plus a big chunk of bread which is enough for about four people and with nothing to go with it, but everyone has their own and munches away happily. I waited in the police station while Gadi went all over the place trying to find a motor bike at a decent rate and I read my book. Reading a book is very hard there as people constantly come and ask if you’re studying and want you to explain every aspect of the book and look at the pictures. Always nice converse but rarely a peaceful alone moment! 

We eventually managed to organise a motorbike at some stupid rate (there are only about 2 in the village which doesn’t help) and headed to Bachada for our community meetings. I still hadn’t managed to have any coffee (essential Amy fuel!) so when we got there and waited around we got my little stove out and made some coffee, with my home made coffee I’d roasted in Arba Minch. The Hamer only drink coffee using the husks of the bean and it’s weak and horrible. They don’t like my stuff either so that was all the more for me and Gadi. A bit more alert and ready for the meetings, we had a group of guys and women and discussed their way of life, challenges, what I was doing, etc. As usual it’s very hard for them to think about the future or about anything along the lines of something better, so it was a pretty tough meeting. It was clear that they were open to ideas though and were really eager for us to work and help drive something new. I think this is a phase two location for us though. 

We then toured the village school and met the teachers to chat about everything there too. This is so different from any other parts of Africa I’ve been. Kids usually have to buy school uniform to even be accepted into school which is a huge problem in some countries as those that can’t afford it, just don’t go. Anyway, in this school, most kids weren’t wearing anything. Their crazy hairstyles were particularly groovy. When I arrived they were all eating their lunch which is provided by the World Food Programme. The head teacher was the sister of someone I’d met in Jinka so she was expecting me and was so sweet. What a place to live though. These teachers are working really remote and have a big challenge on their hands but seem to be loving it which is great to see. They all have big big hearts. 

During our last meeting, Gadi got called back to town for something to do with police work and I was hanging around for ages wondering if he’d come back any time soon?! We were going to stay the night there but couldn’t face having the evening with Korka, the chairman, who was getting increasingly pissed on some local brew concoction he kept trying to feed me. I had to go through all the names of every child of his and write them all down, letter by letter, as he breathed alcohol all over me, had to wait to meet all his wives and babies and he wanted to kill a goat for me which was very kind of him but we decided to head to Turmi for the night and start work checking out the place around there. The teachers wanted us to stay but as we’d turned Korka down it would have been a bit rude if he saw us chilling out with them! So off we went on our bike through the bush from Bachada (how do they find their way I have no idea) to Turmi, the next ‘town’ about 30 kms up the road.