Seemingly the only country in the region not experiencing problems at present, I was lucky to get the chance to visit Chad when I did. I had booked a tour to the Gerewol festival with a company called SVS. I must admit, I hadn't done any research, but my buddy Joey, whom I met in PNG had booked on and he sent me the link to book. I trusted he'd read the info and booked on. The dates fit perfectly.
Gerewol is a mating ritual where the young men aged between 20-30 (this is an estimate, as I'm pretty sure they don't know their date of birth) dance to impress the girls and the girls whom have just hit puberty, select their favourite and (hopefully) their husband. They can then enjoy each other either just for the night or decide to marry. Once married the women can no longer attend the festival as a participant. The guys can keep going back and have multiple wives or partners til they are 30, when their hair is cut and they are too old to participate. The girls were typically around 12 when they attend and they have to make a choice that first festival - they only get to go once. The boys get dressed up and put face paint on. The makeup is a mix of maize ground down and mixed with cows milk then colouring is added. Different tribes tend to use different colours.
We had driven virtually non-stop for two days, through villages (playing kick ups with the kids who had a football), past herds of cows, cattle herders, but no-one actually knew where the tribe was. They were nomadic, so it wasn't like they had an address and we were following a guy on a motorbike whom was leading us there - hopefully...
We were camping for six nights and this was night two! Most people hadn’t slept the night before. Everyone was hot and sweaty and hair was starting to get greasy - I was grateful to be bald and not have this issue although I was still absolutely filthy after two nights camping, no shower, multiple applications of suncream and mosquito spray mixed with sweat. We were all so attractive!! We weren’t even half way through the camping nights and therefore nowhere near close to a hot shower!
We had taken two days to drive to the woodabe tribe through land. There were makeshift roads and sometimes there was just driving thru the bush with no idea where we were going! Sometimes stopping for the motor bike leasing is to change a tire or fix a puncture, then continuing. Eventually, when we’d had no signal for 24 hours, we reached our destination!
The tribe we were visiting - the Bey (pronounced Bi) chose the colour red as their colour. Other tribes use yellows or whites etc to show which tribe they belong to. The women can marry within the tribe but also into a different tribe, but if they marry into a different tribe they then move to the husbands tribe and live, leaving their family behind.
The tribes are cattle herders, and the cattle is their bank account. It shows how rich they are. There are two main men in the tribe. The sultan, and the coachella. The cochella is the one that decides where they move to next to find grass for the cattle. Where there is a good lead herder, the cows will be fat and healthy, but a bad herder, and the cows will be skinny and unhealthy. The tribe do not eat the cows (except for special occasions), just use their milk for trading with other tribes. They make butter every morning in the kalabash. The men herd the animals and women look after the kids, the home, milk the cows and make the food.
The Gerewol festival is held once a year and is decided when grass is found that will sustain the cows for a week (so they are not moving around during this time. It is generally around the same time each year but the location is decided very last minute.
The house for the woodabe, is a raised platform with an opening for sleeping and kalabas to decorate the roof. Just for show apparently! The men slept on the ground outside and the women and children slept in the opening. The kids had to be kept away from snakes and scorpions as they were high risk of dying if bitten.
The first night of the Gerewol festival, I found strange. It was pitch black and men were dancing and singing in a circle. I was confused, how could the men impress the women, when you couldn’t see each other!!!
Apparently this was not the real thing - that would start tomorrow! But it was worth the wait! The tribe painting and wardrobe was very different. It was very effeminate, either guys wearing what to the untrained eye looked like women’s clothes and dangly earrings. Sometimes with a headdress. To the trained eye, this was actually, well… I have no idea!!!
But then it rained…. Proper equatorial (yes I know we were not on the equator!) torrential rain with the slowest moving storm possible!!! It rained for hours, just as it started, there was a military operation of emptying our tents of our belongings, before we were organised in the cars to wait out the rain. We started with chatting, then resorted to singing (singing in the rain was the song!!) then 1 honk for rum, 2 for whisky and the bar really did appear!! The rain continued, and continued, as did the dancing and singing…
The next day, in gratitude for the rain, the Sultan decided they were going to sacrifice a cow. As they were predominantly muslim, the cow was killed ensuring it was halal.
It was during this ceremony, that I discovered there was the tiniest bit of phone signal just at the spot where the cow was killed. I am not someone that desperately needs phone signal, but this particular week, I was desperately trying to get my Gabon visa as the requirement for a visa was reintroduced the week before (post coup) and I had therefore left the UK not needing a visa, only to find out that part way through my trip I now needed a visa. At least this tiny bit of signal meant I could chase up on the visa to hopefully ensure no issues continuing on my adventures.
Each morning, we went to explore the surrounding land, watched the guys get ready for their dancing.
We then watched the dancing in both the late afternoon and evening. The guys would often dance in a circle, or in a line, and sometimes individual men would be summoned to dance in the middle of the circle formed by the girls, in order for the girls to assess if he was to be their future partner.
Towards the end of the festival, the girls got up the courage to choose their partner and they then came forward slowly and quite uncertain and eventually quickly tapping the stick the man of her choice was holding and then running off.
The festival was a real highlight for the whole community and everything stopped for the singing, dancing and merriment.
On the final day, we sat with the sultans and elders and tried to learn a bit more about the culture.
Fulane - cattle herders from Senegal to Ethiopia
Woodabe are nomadic people and pearl tribe are sedentary now sedentary but we’re previously nomadic. There is an Honour code used within the tribe that is bases on 5 pillars: (I have no idea if I spelled these correctly!!)
Munal - patience. Allows you to endure things and physical endurance & stamina.
Nedingo - respect for your Sultan
Sentende- capacity to be reaerved and not bring shame on yourself and not put yourself in a situation that could bring you or your family shame.
Akilo - intelligence. Street smart. Make the best of a situation and turn it into something good. Not just conceptual intelligence but to be like a fox
Berde - avoid being put in a corner by someone who has more power than you!
Between the tribes, the only common thing except the pulacco (honour code) is the language. All the tribes speak a mix of French and Arabic. They are Muslim - as if you are not Muslim in Chad, you can’t do business and therefore survival is unlikely.
The young of the tribe seemed very keen on the electronic gadgets (mainly cameras and phones) that we all were carrying. Although nothing went missing or was stolen, there was constantly someone with their hands in your phone or earrings or anything really - they would touch it then pull their hand away and turn it over asking for it to be given to them. Based on this, there was a general feeling that within twenty years, this way of life will have disappeared. Which then raises the question of what would these people do? The cities are overcrowded in any case and their skills are not suited to city life. But they are opportunistic people and I hope that they will find work and somewhere to live that makes leaving their current life worthwhile. There is a huge community feel within the tribe with everyone making sure that the community is ok. This is despite the high child mortality rate. Only six in ten children survive childhood due to malaria or infection. They don’t seem to have birthdays as they follow the sun and the cows rather than the western calendar.
It was fascinating to see this festival that will cease to exist in the near future however, I can’t say I would have picked any of the guys - totally not my type!
A short city tour on the way back to the hotel rounded off a fabulous time in Chad.
Thank you so much Tommy for the amazing food, experience and the seemingly endless stash of beer! Great trip and amazing set up!
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