Back-entry...Maasai village!

This post is a little late, but visiting my friend Isaya's village was an amazing experience that I want to share.

The last weekend before I left Tanzania, I went with some of the other volunteers to Isaya’s Maasai village (Isaya works for GSC, see previous post for more info). After a Friday night of fun with our whole volunteer group and an interesting breakfast at a local restaurant where we were gratuitously overcharged, refused to pay extra and walked out, and then returned and forked over the extra cash because some of us lived in the neighborhood and did not want to be mugged, we were finally ready to meet Isaya on Saturday morning to make the trek out to the village. This began with a packed hour long dala ride to the nearest town where we stopped and got some food – I had chai and a donut for 50 cents. Over lunch, Isaya taught us some basics of Maa, the Maasai language which is still spoken in Tanzania today. The Maasai are one of the tribes that still use their own tongue instead of Kiswhili, which many Maasai people do not speak at all. After he was satisfied with our attempts at Maa, Isaya then led us to a pick-up truck, the bed of which was already full of Maasai of various ages. In Tanzania there is always room for more when it comes to vehicles, so nine more of us piled into the truck. Isaya sat on the roof while we braved the crowded bed. Claustrophobia ended up being the least of our worries, as the lack of personal space and bumpy road provided perfect excuses for some molestation by the men on board…luckily I was surrounded by our group, but those on the fringe had an interesting experience. Forty-five minutes up the steep dirt road, we came to a large village…where we were surprised to see two small children of obvious mixed ethnicity. Their light skin confused us until we were approached by a white British woman, who apparently was married to one of the Maasai men in the village and was currently teaching a group of American students studying there. We did not press her for details, but I suppose she was an anthropologist? At any rate, very cool.

Our journey continued for 20 more minutes up the hill, where thorny trees suddenly began encroaching on the road and we had to regularly duck to avoid be pricked. Finally, we arrived at Isaya’s boma (cluster of huts) and were greeted by his mother and younger siblings. He led us into the hut where we would stay that night, and began to give us a lesson on Maasai culture. I was familiar with the majority of it from my anthropology coursework, but it was fascinating to hear it from a Maasai warrior himself. During the course of the discussion, as he is talking about traditions and the importance of preserving culture…his cell phone goes off and he answers it and talks for 10 minutes! Nice, haha.

Later, we went outside and Isaya and his fellow warriors danced for us. Usually they dance at night, but since there is awesome jumping involved that cannot be fully appreciated in the dark, they decided to give us a preview while the sun was still up. And it was STELLAR! If you are not familiar with the type of dancing done by Maasai warriors, watch the youtube video at the end of this post to get a general idea. But to see it in person was so great, and some of them were jumping significantly higher than the warriors in the youtube video. Also, the singing/chanting that they do is so cool! Everyone has different parts and they glide seamlessly from one type of song to another, with specific people playing different roles in each one.

Then we got a surprise when Isaya told us that we had to try it out, so we each took a turn jumping with them, which clearly was quite hilarious. Some of the warriors were having trouble continuing their singing because they were laughing too hard! I already knew (from past experience taking jumping photos) that the key to maximizing your apparent height is to pick up your knees, so I looked like I was getting higher than the other volunteers. The warriors were doing the same thing though, so I was not really cheating, haha. Before going inside to dinner, I spent about 20 minutes talking with Isaya’s little brother, who I affectionately dubbed “Kaka” (brother in Kiswahili) since his Maa name was a bit too intimidating for me. He had some knowledge of English and Kiswahili, so we worked through a conversation which highlighted our running experiences (he also ran the London marathon with Isaya…and at first did not believe me when I told him that I had ran a marathon as well). The second jumping photo above features Kaka :)

Dinner that evening was beans with maize and some sort of porridge, which was actually surprisingly decent. Following dinner and socializing in the hut (with everyone – 8 warriors, 4 children, 3 mamas, and 8 volunteers – inside the tiny structure), we headed back outside where we started dancing again around the fire. The mamas taught us how Maasai girls dance, so at that point some of us started imitating them. My favorite part of the dancing was when the warrior who had just jumped would come up to one of us and offer his shoulder, which you would then turn and hit with yours. I am not sure exactly what it means, but for us it was a fun way to connect on some level with those warriors who did not speak any Kiswahili (or English, obviously).

Before bed, the warriors came into our hut again and did more singing, chanting, and some storytelling until around midnight. At that point, six of us volunteers crammed into one bed – granted, the bed was relatively large, but definitely NOT big enough for six people. We all had to sleep on our sides, and every few hours someone would announce that it was time to roll over so that one hip did not get too sore. Suffice it to say that none of us got much sleep that night, and we were up pretty early. That morning, the Maasai warriors slaughtered a goat for us to thank us for coming (we each donated $40 to their well project), so we had fresh goat for breakfast! And I really do mean fresh…

As a vegetarian, I had already warned Isaya that I would not be partaking in the goat. His first response was “Well, you can drink the blood though because that is not meat.” Haha, nope, sorry Isaya. After seeing the humane way in which they suffocated the goat, realizing that it had lived a full natural life, and noting the fact that the Maasai were going to use every single part of the goat (literally), I was very comfortable with the whole process. When the warriors started scooping out and drinking the still-warm blood from its carcass and then offered some to us, I made a game-time decision to go for it. After all, how many opportunities I am going to have to share blood with Maasai? It was pretty gross because there were organ chunks mixed in with my scoop of blood, but I managed to choke it down without gagging. Then Isaya offered us some of the raw liver, which after drinking blood was not that big of a deal – it just tasted kind of slimy. Finally, we had the meat roasted over an open fire, which was not bad.

[After this, I decided that I am going to be a full-fledged vegetarian (i.e. also give up chicken and fish) now. Seeing the sustainability of their meat usage, the respect and gratitude that they showed to the goat, and the humane way in which they slaughtered the goat, I really do not want to contribute to American meat consumption anymore. Also, I know I am over-romanticizing the experience, but it is pretty neat that the last meat I will eat is a goat I shared with Maasai warriors. My parents now think I am crazy for drinking blood but refusing to eat chicken legs.]

Unfortunately, Kaka decided it would be a good idea to share the goat’s intestines with me, which I graciously accepted. After I swallowed a large chunk, he informed me that they were “medicine”. What kind of medicine? Medicine for your stomach, to clean it out. Maybe it was just the fact that I ate meat for the first time in awhile, but maybe Kaka was right, as I definitely had some “stomach cleaning” going on for the rest of the day. It was pretty miserable actually…thank you, Kaka.

Meanwhile, we needed to return to Arusha relatively early because some of the girls had to make long journeys home to the hospitals that they were working at and wanted to get back before dark. So Isaya recruited Kaka to walk us back to the first village that we had encountered on our way up the hill, so that we could take the pick-up truck back down to the town from there. After a 45 minute walk, we arrived at the village…and the truck was nowhere to be found. Kaka talked with some people, and discovered that it was not coming. After an hour of scrambling and different arrangements being promised and then falling through, we eventually decided to just go down the mountain on foot. Long story short, after two hours of walking and talking with Kaka (and many bathroom stops for me in the bush), we made it down to the town and hopped on the dala dala back to Arusha. I held a little mtoto on my lap for the entirety of the ride, and I tried to stop her with limited success from playing with the fresh goat-skin bracelet that the Maasai warriors had made for me. While the pungent goat and smoke smell has finally been eradicated from my coat now that I am home, the time I spent in the Maasai village is definitely something I will remember for my entire life.