Inhabiting Desolation, sheer nothing in Ethiopia's Danakil Desert
Resilience is the core strength of the Afar in Ethiopia. The ethnic group, comprising of no more than 3 million people occupy the endless expanse of the Danakil Desert, an infinite nothing in the Eastern reach of the country which if often rife with famine and drought. Here, wealth is measured by the size of a nomad's herd and life is dependent on keeping livestock alive in one of the hottest places on Earth. Endless days of sun turns the skin shades darker. Dry heat turns the eyes to sandpaper. Winds carry the sounds of camels hooves trudging alongside their owners as they walk for days, carrying supplies to and from market or collecting the only underground water in hundreds of kilometers.
To live in nothing is not the hardest task. It is to live with nothing and breath nothing. Limited resources, limited opportunities, a harsh landscape void of outcomes for alternative livelihoods. For this, the Afar adapt and live with what has been given to them by Allah, their religious strength and eternal Faith. In the dry season, most men leave their homes to join a salt caravan, a line of thousands of camels, donkeys and scarf-clad men trudging in sandals into the horizon. They congregate in groups to chip away slowly at the cracked dry earth for slabs of salt blocks. Salt crystals collect on their eyelashes, skin and clothing so that everything becomes stiff and uncomfortable, washed only in beading sweat and limited water that is carried with the caravan. The sun reflects on the saline crystals making eyes bloodshot and eyesight almost none existent from noon onwards. When salt blocks are pried loose, they are carefully wrapped and each camel is assigned 100kg. Men walk for seven days to a market on the outskirts of Mekele, Ethiopia's second largest city, before returning to the salt mine and starting again. For each trip, one man will get less than $7USD.
At the heart of the desert lies a darkened peak of Irta'ale which casts a shadow across the desert wasteland. At its base, the Afar live in small huts made from crooked molten rock which spreads hundreds of kilometers from the center of volcanic activity. Like the people that use them for shelter, the stones are coarse and dark, scattered through an empty landscape and eroded by shifting sands. The cauldron at the top continues to bubble and explode. Fiery lava folds and turns like a cake mixture, developing a thick dark crust which remelts into the flames. The Afar know it can happen at any time; the opening to 'the gateway to Hell'. Yet their lives continue on, independent and strong, knowing full well that an additional condition to the already challenging landscape is just another reason to adapt and survive.
