I am Elefachew the armed scout

Extremely artistic, award winning photo of view from Sankaber campsite
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I am Elefachew the armed scout. Today I met up wityh another strange group of Faranji, who will be spending 5 days walking (they call it tekking - to make it sound toucher I think) in our beautiful Simen Mountain National Park. I have to protect the native animals from hunting and also the Faranji from . . . well I don't know what from actually.

There is a lady from France who I think is called Polin. she seems a lovely person but I think she may be a bit crazy as she tells me that she has spent 7 months cycling from France to Ethiopia. Then there is Christ (I think), and English man who looks like he needs a bit of a shave, and his wife Raobacka. When I see her I realize how smart Ethiopian ladies are compared to Faranji. Her hair could do with a wash.

The cook, the guide, the scout and his chicken

Elefacheuw and his gun
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Apart from me and the Faranji there is also our guide, Tash, a cook, a wash-up, two mules and two mule drivers.

I live in the lowlands of the mountains, whch are about 2300m high. I shouldn't really have a problem walking up with the Faranji to their first campat at 3300m but after only and hour's walking I had such a bad headache and my nose started to bleed. The Faranji were very helpful but I felt quite embarrased. I am am meant to pretect them but had a nose bleed.

My gun is pretty old and was handed down to me by my father, who got it from his father. I think my grandfather was the last one to fire it. I am good with a catapult so I don't see a gun can be mouch different.

Celebrating our 3 week anniversary 4000m high
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Apart from the nose bleed the going was quite easy the first day and the Faranji seemed to get on well - spurred on by the incredible views. They kept saying it ws like the Grand Canyon but I don't see why they have to compare it to another country. Each time someone mentinoed the United States Raobacka would swear about that country, which is not what a lady does here in Ethiopia.

The second day was harder climbing and the sun was cooking me through the towel which I wear wrapped around my head. I was dying for some homebrew - Tella - and as luck would have it I found a lady selling some to some farmers at lunch time. As the Farnji went on ahead I had a few tins. Some say our local beer looks like wet cement. We tell the Faranji it gives you strength but actually it just makes you so drunk you don't care that you are walking all day. I felt great lying there on the mountain side but after an hour I thought I'd better catch the Faranji in case they needed protecting. From something.

Elefacheuw comandeering the grass thieves
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I had been worried that the older French lady would have some problems with all this walking but it is the young girl who keeps us back. I know Faranji are as different from us as goats and sheep but I think she may be hollow. Each time she takes a sip of water (which she does often) she has to go and find a rock to empty herself. Maybe she had some homebrew without us noticing.

She also eats a tremendous amount. Her husband follows that Faranji tradition of saving some food in your beard for later. I think this is a good idea but sometimes the food falls off before you have a chance to eat it and this is a waste.

Should Becs send this one to a modelling agency?
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Day 3 we were 3600m up and i was a bit worried by nosebleed would start again. The villagers visited us a lot at our camp and the site became a mobile surgery when they realized the Farnji carried medicine. Everyone with every problem came to visit them for help.

I came into my own as we had to kill a chicken. The Faranji were very interested in watching as they say people don't often kill their own animals in their country - this is very strange to me. I was quite angry as the knife the cook gave me wsn't very sharp so it took me ages to get through the skin of the chicken. Then I cut lower down at an easier bit but the chicken did not die quickly and lay kicking in the mud for some time. But I showed them I don't mind killing if I hve to. I just hope the gun is easier to use than the knife!

Dinner is served
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On the 4th day I was Elefachew the armed policeman. We were walking across the grasslands at 4000m and could see ahead of us a man and two small boys runnng along with a heavy loads of grass on their head. Because the rains are coming the villagers are anxious to cut the long grass and thatch their houses with it. But this is wrong and not allowed in the national park.

I chased the villagers and cut the loads from their heads and took their names. I must give their names to the chief of their village and he will punish them my making them miss their next turn as mule drivers for the trekking Farnaji. They work on a rota. When I had almost finished with these villagers I looked up and saw two donkeys and a man on the hoirzon, running along with more cut grass. I chased and chased after them, which was difficult as I wear only broken rubber shoes, but I caut them and got their names to give to the chief too.

The Faranji told me it was like Monty Python but I do not know what this means. What's it got to do with a snake?

It is hard for me to do this because I know the villages need the grass and they have lived this way for thousands of years. But the park is our revcenue now and we must protect its natureal reserves so that the Faranji come to visit and we get jobs helping. Now the villagers will lose their turn and lose money so they will learn that we must protect the park. For me this is important. The park is my livelihood.

The baboons were everyehwere as usual at our fourth and final camp. The Faranji seemed to like them but they are a nuisance and always trying to get at our food. I do not like the way they put their bottoms on show and the Faranji say their rears look like giant hot cross buns but I don't understand this either. I understand it is food. You can not compare a baboon's bum to food. Baboons are taboo.

Sometimes I think the Faranji worry more about animals than they do about us people. They didn't even like to see the mules carrying their luggage. But this is what God gave us mules for.

I was lucky to climb up alone with Christ to the top of the highest mountain in the park on the 5th day  - Bwahit Pass at 4430m. He is a determined man and we got up and down in record time. At the top we gave eachother an Ethiopian hug, where we rub the sides of our head together three times. His wife seemed pleased with him but even more pleased that she hadn't had to climb it herself.

They were nice people and we became good friends. I like my job, especially because I never have to use my gun. I only get paid 30 birr a day though, which the Faranji tell me is 2 pounds, and so I would like to become a guide. Then I can earn 75 birr a day. There is a long list so I must be patient but one day I will be Elefachew the guide.