Visiting Awassa in Ethiopia is a truly enriching experience, where you can spend the morning strolling along the scenic shores of Lake Awassa, observing the vibrant birdlife and tranquil waters, before heading to the bustling fish market to witness the lively trade of freshly caught tilapia and interact with the friendly local vendors, and finally unwind in the beautifully maintained park nearby, shaded by towering trees and filled with the laughter of families enjoying picnics and the peaceful ambiance of this charming lakeside city.
Ethiopia: Dorze Village Visit
On the way to Arba Minch, we made a detour into the highlands to spend time with the Dorze people, an ethnic group living mainly in the mountains close to Chencha and Arba Minch. The Dorze are part of the larger Omotic-speaking communities of southern Ethiopia, and they are widely respected for their distinctive traditions, weaving skills, and the extraordinary design of their houses. The journey itself into the rolling hills was striking, as the landscape grew cooler and greener with every turn. Terraced fields, thick stands of bamboo, and pockets of forest cover gave the place a sense of fertility that stood in strong contrast to the drier valleys below.
🏡 Villages and Homes
The Dorze live in small villages scattered along the slopes of the mountains. The air is fresh, and the land is productive, allowing them to cultivate a wide range of crops. Their villages are particularly memorable because of the architecture. Their houses are instantly recognisable—giant beehive-shaped structures built from bamboo, standing tall and proud above the surrounding greenery. We stopped in one of these villages and walked slowly to an open space beside one of these impressive homes. Up close, their scale was even more apparent, towering over us at more than seven metres high.
🎍 Building with Bamboo
Bamboo is at the heart of Dorze life. They have developed exceptional skill in splitting and weaving it into practical forms. With bamboo they build fences, craft baskets, make storage pots by coating it with clay, and even fashion beehives. But its greatest use is in the construction of their remarkable homes. The process is painstaking. The bamboo is not used in its natural rounded form; instead, it is split open, flattened, and stripped of its pith. This produces strong, flexible pieces that can be woven between vertical stakes sunk into the ground. From there, layer by layer, the walls and framework rise steadily until the great dome of the house is complete. The bamboo leaf sheaths used in construction are durable, lasting up to two decades.
The houses themselves are living structures. Because the lower parts are eaten away over time by rot and termites, the buildings shrink year by year, losing several centimetres from the base. The original seven-metre height provides enough allowance for this slow decay. Even the doorways are designed with this in mind. The entrance from the porch to the main chamber is built unusually tall, so that the gradual lowering of the roof over time does not make the doorway unusable. The outer door of the porch, however, is simply rewoven when needed, a more flexible solution.
👷 House Construction
These houses are not built by just anyone. Specialist builders, always men, are responsible for this work. It takes a small team of three or four craftsmen about two weeks to build a house with a diameter of five to six metres. The knowledge is passed down through generations, and their skill is central to Dorze identity. Their architectural style is not only functional but also deeply symbolic, representing resilience and adaptability in a mountain environment where bamboo is both abundant and renewable.
👘 Dressing in Tradition
We were welcomed in front of the house by a young man who was to be our guide to Dorze culture. Before anything else, we had to look the part. He dressed me in traditional attire, complete with shield and weapon, while Karen was dressed in a more feminine outfit by one of the Dorze women. Once suitably attired, I left the weapon outside the doorway and we stepped into the house itself.
🔥 Life Inside the Home
The interior was surprisingly spacious, divided into chambers for different purposes. Around one-third of the space was set aside for livestock, with cows and chickens brought in at night for protection. The rest of the house was for family living—sleeping, cooking, and socialising. A fire burned at the centre, and the smoke curled upwards through deliberate gaps in the bamboo structure, slowly filtering out into the air. A Dorze woman stirred a pot above the flames, showing the importance of cooking as one of the central tasks for women in the community.
The Dorze diet is varied thanks to the fertile land around them. They grow wheat, barley, sorghum, potatoes, beetroot, cabbage, and carrots. But perhaps the most distinctive food is their so-called “false banana,” known locally as enset.
🍞 The False Banana Bread
We were shown how enset is transformed into bread. The plant looks like a banana but produces fruit that is not edible. Instead, its starchy stems and roots are scraped, fermented, and then worked into a dough-like substance. This is baked into flat, bread-like cakes called konjo. The young woman patiently demonstrated the process, showing us how the fibres were scraped, the dough prepared, and the flatbread cooked. We were offered some to taste, and it was surprisingly delicious—slightly sour, chewy, and filling. It was easy to see why this plant is considered a staple crop.
🍶 Drinking Areke
Our guide then took us to another shelter where we were introduced to areke, the Dorze homemade liquor. Drinking it was not a casual affair; it came with ritual. Before each round there was chanting, rhythmic and lively, adding ceremony to the act. Then the drink itself—strong and fiery—was swallowed in a single motion. Several rounds followed, and as the alcohol began to take effect, the chanting became harder for us to follow. Our guide, however, seemed entirely unfazed, suggesting a high tolerance from long experience.
🧵 Weaving and Craftsmanship
Outside the houses, we came across weaving looms, another cornerstone of Dorze culture. Their weaving tradition is renowned across Ethiopia. Many Dorze men are professional weavers, producing cotton garments and colourful traditional cloth such as shamma and gabi. Their textiles are not only practical but also artistic, rich in design and widely admired. These products are sold in markets across the country, helping the Dorze economy and sustaining their cultural reputation as master weavers.
🎶 Music and Dance
The cultural demonstration was not complete without music. Several Dorze women gathered and began to sing. Their songs used a call-and-response style, voices rising and falling in unison, filling the air with rhythm. Soon they began to dance—energetic, joyful movements that reflected the spirit of their community. Music is central to Dorze life, playing a role in weddings, festivals, and communal gatherings. We were encouraged to join in, and thanks to the effects of areke, we did so with enthusiasm, if not skill. To us, it felt like panache. To them, perhaps, it looked more like clumsy amusement, but it did not matter. The point was participation and shared joy.
👋 Farewell
At last, it was time to leave. We returned the clothing we had borrowed, thanked our hosts, and said our goodbyes. The experience had given us an intimate glimpse into a culture that balances tradition and daily life in the Ethiopian highlands.
Final Thoughts
Visiting the Dorze was more than just a stop on the road to Arba Minch—it was a chance to experience one of Ethiopia’s most distinctive mountain cultures. From their towering bamboo homes to their mastery of weaving, from the preparation of false banana bread to the rituals of drinking areke, every part of their life carried its own rhythm and meaning. The music, dancing, and warm hospitality left a lasting impression, reminding us that culture is not something static but lived and celebrated in the everyday.
More to Explore
