In the promotional literature of the tourist industry, the lip-plate is presented as evidence of a quintessentially ‘tribal’ existence, relatively ‘untouched’ by the modern world. Ironically, however, it is the growing need of the Mursi for cash, as their economy becomes increasingly dependent on market exchange, that drives them to supply the tourists’ demand for photographs. But, although eagerly sought after by both sides, this ‘encounter’ between the Mursi and tourists appears to be uncomfortable and unsatisfactory for those who witness it. In this paper I ask why this should be so, and find a large part of the answer in the lip-plate itself, and in what it means for those who wear it, and for those who photograph it.
