Blast from the past

Well, not too distant past - just a few weeks. During the last week or so that I was in Madagascar, Andrew said he was thinking about coming to Tanzania before he headed home to the U.S. I met Andrew and Charlotte the very first day in Madagascar and we all bonded pretty quickly; we all from the NYC area, visiting Africa for the first time and beyond excited to experience all that Madagascar had to offer. I thought it would be fantastic to have Andrew visit when I was in Tanzania but I was skeptical - not of Andrew, but saying it and doing it were different things. We kept in touch through Facebook but I knew Andrew was traveling so his internet access would be spotty. He told me he’d be taking the bus from Dar es Salaam on the 6th. I messaged him my local phone number and asked what his plans were for safari, etc but I hadn’t heard anything for a few days. On the afternoon of the 6th my phone rang and it was Andrew calling from someone else’s phone on the bus, about an hour out from Arusha.

Long story short, Andrew arrived, we caught up on all of our crazy stories from when we had last seen each other, we got his safari sorted out that same night with Frank (a friend of Jessi’s who I had already met) and he left the following morning for a three day safari. I made arrangements to take Thursday off so I could take the bus to Mto wa Mbu to meet up with them. We visited Lake Manyara which definitely primed me for my own safari. We saw an enormous troop of baboons, literally hundreds of them. They were fun to watch because they were so animated and the babies would ride on the backs of the mothers, which reminded me more of little toddlers on pony rides than how I thought I a baby monkey would hold on. We saw hippos far off in the distance amidst a large patch of zebras and wildebeest. Lake Manyara is famous for it’s tree climbing lions; apparently the land is too damp and swampy so the lions prefer to lay in the trees where they can stay dry. I was hopeful that we’d see one but I knew they are rare so I wasn’t too bummed when we didn’t - I figure that will have to wait for my proper safari at the end of my trip. We saw a variety of antelopes but the highlight was definitely the elephants. We stopped next to a creek to watch a small group of elephants and a massive one walked out towards the road and then right by the truck - it was less than six feet away and far bigger than our vehicle. It was inexplicably awesome to witness it so closely.

After Lake Manyara we returned to Mto wa Mbu to visit an organization where artists train homeless young men to paint. There are four distinct styles of African art and they are taught all four but then select whichever they excel at. If it turns out that painting is not their forte, they can assist with prepping canvases, clean-up and general duties. I thought it was such a positive way to help improve these young men’s lives that I knew if I was going to purchase any art in Tanzania it would be from this organization. It took me a while to decide because there were so many great pieces.

After I selected my paintings Frank took us around Mto wa Mbu for a little taste of Chagga culture. We visited a Chagga bar, which was essentially a grass hut with a number of chairs inside, and we sampled ndege, the fermented banana beer popular among the Chagga. It’s made with millet and bananas and has a distinct, but not unpleasant taste. The true form is very low in alcohol so it’s drunk more for nutrients and social purposes. We learned that ndege is always brewed by women and a woman who makes a good, well-liked ndege is said to “have a good hand”. Later in the day we passed by another bar with a number of huts, all of which were empty. Frank told us that the woman who used to own that bar had a good hand but the current owner did not - the best hand in the village was Mama Mzungu, where we had drank our ndege. Note: she is not white as the name Mama Mzungu implies, but her skin is much lighter than most people so that has become how she is known.

After our walk around town Frank told us that we were going to a flea market and then a Maasai village. I had already been to a Maasai village and a flea market did not seem appealing in the least but I was curious to see if this village experience would be different from the last. The flea market turned out to be amazing. The flea market was actually a Maasai market - but not like the one in Arusha for tourists to purchase souvenirs, one run by Maasai for Maasai, selling everything from their traditional sandals to wash basins and cooking supplies to produce. I felt like a bit of an intruder - we were certainly the only mzungus at the market, but we were being shown around by a local Maasai man as his guests. We went to another bar of sorts, which was a tent-like structure with a few low benches, a low table and heap of charcoal, surrounded by pieces of meat, skewered and stretched over pieces of wood. 

Andrew and I each ordered ndege but they only had the bottled kind here. The taste was similar but there was no floating millet layer to work around as with the traditional kind. Then before I really comprehended what was happening, our Maasai host brought a stick loaded with a giant hunk of meat to the table and began to carve chunks of meat off of it with his Maasai sword. I was, of course, encouraged to try it and realized that not doing so probably would have been quite rude. I took a piece and asked what it was as I put it into my mouth, hoping the answer wouldn’t make the process of eating more difficult. I was told that it was leg of lamb but it was a pretty large leg. “Goat?” I inquired. Yes, goat they said. It was honestly the most delicious meat I’ve had during my entire time in Africa. Most of the meat I’ve eaten here has tended to either be overcooked and dry or extremely chewy. This was warm and juicy, apparently kept just far enough from the hot coals to keep it warm without overcooking it. When they first brought the meat over I thought there was no way we could finish it  - but the four of us ate it all, and I was happy to hold the pieces of meat away from the bone while our host carved them off with his sword. After we finished the meat, our host used his sword to cut the bone in half and he finished off the bone marrow. It was honestly one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had to date. Oh yeah, and the bottled ndege is a bit stronger as well, something like 10.5%.

Our visit to the Maasai village was not remarkably different from my first visit. The construction of the bomas was different; instead of having a center door and a “sitting room” the entryway was a tunnel-like hall that wound around from the front to the back of the boma to block the wind. These bomas also seemed to have small holes intentionally poked into the walls to allow more light inside. Much of what I described about the customs and culture of the Maasai during my first post was information that I actually learned during this second visit. The village was much smaller than the first, but the father still had seven different wives and sixty-three children. I bought a beaded bracelet that didn’t look at all traditional but that I knew I’d wear. Andrew couldn’t resist a large wooden club.

I can’t help but reflect on why these people continue to choose this life. Clearly there are opportunities to move away from it and adopt a more normal life, even relatively close to one’s village. I see plenty of Maasai people in Arusha proper, still maintaining some traditions of their dress but integrating aspects of a more modern lifestyle. As an anthropologist I am fascinated that the Maasai have been able to maintain such a traditional lifestyle in close proximity to the modern world. As a woman with and education and opportunities in life I find it difficult to imagine remaining within the boundaries of the Maasai culture. Although, to be fair, while I have seen Maasai women in Arusha, I much more frequently see men and the men are also more likely to have adopted a more blended lifestyle that incorporates aspects of both traditional culture and modern convenience. I have to admit, the idea of conducting a longer term participant-observer ethnography of the Maasai culture is incredibly appealing.