The start of my week with the Maasai was to leave our new home in Kabwe, Zambia, first by bus then on a plane which in turn had several delays. Upon arriving in Arusha and meeting my hosts it was 1 am, and not 6 pm as expected. Coming back to Tanzania this time was with mixed feeling. The memories of trying to keep myself out of prison a few months ago as well and getting two of my friends out of prison were still too fresh in my memory. But that is another story.
For this particular week I was invited to be the guest speaker at an all Maasai seminar/conference. You may ask ‘just who are the Maasai’. The Maasai are nomadic herdsmen, a people all to their own. There have been many books written on these people. Known for their cattle, culture and courage they are likely one of the most popular and beautiful of the nomadic people groups. Tall, thin, sleek brown skinned figures. Although they are not always liked by other African people, they are respected by all.
Their culture and traditions go back hundreds of years as they have roamed the central/southern African plains in search for grazing their livestock. In rural Maasai areas both boys and girls are still circumcised, and for a young man to enter into manhood he must prove his fearlessness by killing a lion alone with spear in hand. I am hoping that I will get a chance to go on a hunt during my visit to learn a few things. It is one thing to have a rifle in hand but a spear… A charging two-ton cape buffalo is enough to get you nervous at 200 meters much less 2 meters. I chased a hippo once, several years ago, with only a camera in hand, it all went well as long as I was the one doing the chasing, but soon the tides changed and he stopped and started chasing me. He was armed with 2 tons of body mass and two big tusks about the size of my left arm. This mzungu (white man) may not know how to jump as high as the Maasai, but I tell you I know how to run. I could have brought home the gold that day………….Many Maasai have moved to bigger towns and cities and have done well in the business world, and due to the western influence some of the Maasai traditions have come to a stop but still the majority of the Maasai still live in bush country throughout Kenya and Tanzania.
I will spend Sunday here in Arusha town and then off on safari Monday morning to the bush which is about 8 hours north of here.
Day-2, Sunday
This morning in church I was asked to bring the message for the evening service, I spoke on ‘values’. Values is something I have been looking at in my own life in a deeper way. We say we hold this or that as a high value but when we take a closer, honest look at where most of our time, energy and money goes, it may be other things that in reality are our highest values.
Today I also met up with pastor Ezra who will be joining me on this trip. He and I worked together lots in Kigoma, he is an overseer of 118 churches, a dear man of God.
For dinner this evening we went out together with Gabriel our host here in Arusha. We went into a small hole-in-the-wall-place to eat meat, a favorite Maasai pastime. Gabriel himself is a Maasai, lives in the city of Arusha, he has taken over his father’s business and they have done well. They have built a beautiful home on the slopes of Mt. Meru which is about 12 thousand ft tall but seems quite small since it sits in the shadow of Mt. Kilimanjaro at the height of almost 20 thousand ft.
Over our eating charred but quite good goat meat I asked Gabriel if he was coming with us to the bush to Maasai land. He was not too keen on the idea, he has found his place of comfort here in Arusha for he knows the hardships of the bush life that his kinsmen suffer out on the plains. He laughed and with a big smile he politely declined this mzungus invitation...
Day-3 Monday
Monday morning: here we sit and wait for our bus. Imagine that ‘wait’ in Africa. If one could only count the hours one sits and waits here it must add up to a quarter of one’s life. I guess it is not much different than my kin spending a quarter of their lifetime sitting in traffic. So I took this time to buy a few more supplies and observe the several thousand Muslims that have gathered to pray at a soccer field across the street, this happens to be the month of Ramadan.
This is likely where the driver of our bus is. Anyway what else can one do but sit and wait so why not write a little bit more about my week with the Maasai.Noise - All the mosques are calling out with their calls to prayers, all those calls are mixed with the city noise of cars and people walking by, along with street vendors announcing their goods for sale. If I could just get my iPod to work I would listen to Don Moen, but I sit here in my impatient mood writing in my journal between these two black lines waiting on Mr. Bus Driver.
Our bus trip is now said to be 9 hours long, we head up to the Ngorongoro crater, which is a wildlife park, passing around the forest rim of the crater, we will head off down the slopes again into the Serengeti plains. The Maasai roam the plains with their cattle as they have for generations, long before the tourists ever showed up, the Maasai herds mingle with all the wildlife. The Maasai warrior herdsman follows his herd for days on end with spear in hand to ward off lions and hyenas.
I have travelled these main roads on several occasions but this time I will get off the main tourist route and head deep into the plains. Well, just in case Mr. Bus Driver shows up I had better go find a choo (toilet). No such thing as a toilet on these local buses. And you only get to stop when the driver needs to take a pit stop and that generally does not happen very often. One learns to just suck it up……….
Mr. Bus Driver being now 3 hours late, we were off to Maasai land in our dilapidated bus. Music just cranked up as we basically flew to make it to the town to Waso before the sun set. Upon arriving at the gate entrance of the Ngorongoro park I was by prior arrangements given permission to go into the national reserve for free, otherwise it is 60 bucks a day. Through the gate and up we climb to the crater rim. Looking below we can see the open grassland of the crater floor, the rim too high to see any wildlife on the valley floor but it is said that down there is the most concentrated numbers of wildlife in the world year round. We continue bouncing down the road towards the plains of the Serengeti.
I saw a small sign on the side of the road that announced a name of a small town that was 84 kilometers up a tiny trek off to the right. I looked at this road and thought how is it possible that road could be so long, the trail is hardly visible. Little did I know what lay ahead. We drove for another hour or so right to the entrance of the great Serengeti wildlife park. Now is was our turn to take a right and head not only 84 km down this hardly visible trek but we went nearly 184 km. Kilometer after kilometer we drove through open plains, nothing but grass as far as the eye could see.Not a tree or shrub in sight. Basically flying down this trek over the rolling hills dodging Thomson gazelles or zebras from time to time. For some reason these gazelles would try to get across the road before we passed, so they would dash off and race the bus and cut across this little trek, like they were going somewhere... There was nowhere to go, it was all the same as far as the eye could see. Maybe they thought it was their last chance to get to the other side. I am sure the driver would be more than happy to hit one so he could make some good soup that night.
During the migration season from February through April these plains are home to literally millions of wildebeests and zebras who give birth to their young during this time. They are all further north in Kenya at this time and will come south when the rains arrive.
We drive on, the bus comes to a halt and we all pile out and well, ladies on that side of the bus and boys on the other. No trees to hide behind so well you just forget about stage fright because who knows how long it will be before you get another chance. Back into our over-crowded bus we take off again. Note: if you ever take public buses in Africa do your best to get a window seat, trust me on this…
Not a town or hut in sight for hours but now and then you would see a Maasai or two walking somewhere. Their red garments can be spotted far off into the green hills. The Maasai (mostly men) walk for hours on end everyday. They can walk literally up to 40 miles each day. Our Maasai host Mark, whom we shall soon meet, walked to Arusha city once, it took him 8 days and it is at least 300 miles away. He took no food nor water, he just walked and survived as best he could.
The Maasai color is mostly red but there are many who also wear purple. Their cover is about the size of a table cloth, they wrap themselves up and use it as a head cover when needed. Their under garment is somewhat like a dress. Together with the beaded necklaces, earrings and spear and staff it seems to fit them perfectly in their exotic appearance.
After 4 hours of driving on this trek it widens and becomes an actual small road which takes us to the small outpost town of Waso. Here some of us pile off and the bus heads of again to another destination.
Here in Waso we are to meet our host Mark (his Christian name). He walked from his village today, only 15 miles away…. He said it just took him 2 hours. We met up with Mark with hugs and kisses and he said the land cruiser will soon be here to take us to the village. Well, after 4 hours the land cruiser did come to get us. Off into the night we drove, we could see the glowing eyes of wildlife dashing off into the night.
I was glad we left Waso town, I was hoping to go to the bush and not be in a small town, I like the bush. Although after a week in the bush this little town of Waso will be welcoming, where one can buy a warm coca-cola and get a tough chicken dinner with rice. But for now I am off to the bush to be with the real Maasai for a week and I look forward to it.
