Herding
cattle, sheep and goats, sleeping in a boma, eating sacrificed goat, getting
blessed by the chief, making bead jewellery and dancing – all in a day’s work
when you spend time with the Maasai!
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(Photo: Trudey Peterson) |
We
began our three days with the Maasai at Laiboni Primary, the small school adjacent
to their village. The Maasai chief, Meshuku Mappi, was persuaded to allow the
school to be built in 2007 after a 10-year-old village child was killed by a
car during his 10-kilometre walk to the nearest primary school. The school has
a very small number of classrooms and limited facilities but it’s so much safer
for the kids and the chief has also been persuaded to allow the girls to
attend, a victory in a culture where female circumcision is still widely
practised and most girls marry and start breeding at a very young age.
The
head teacher gave us some background and answered our questions then we were
let loose, moving around the different classrooms to meet and photograph the
kids. One class we entered had no teacher present so I couldn’t help myself – I
took over! While my fellow photographers took their shots, I organised the kids
to come up to the board to write a sentence with their names and say the
sentence out loud for me, then we changed to practising numbers. It was fun and
they were so enthusiastic and full of smiles.
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(Photo: Trudey Peterson) |
The
kids also sang and danced for us, the boys first and later the girls, the
leaping and stomping dance the Maasai are famous for. At first, they were shy
about performing and they huddled together in one corner of the room but the
pulsating rhythm soon had them and us entranced, and by the end they were
running about and leaping like wild things.
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Meeting the chief (Photo: Trudey Peterson) |
From
the school we moved on to the village to meet chief Meshuku Mappi, after first
getting a lesson in chief-meeting protocol – the women bowed their heads for
the chief to pat, the men shook hands, and there was an exchange of ceremonial
greetings. The chief could be anywhere from 90 to 100 years old – reports vary
and I doubt there are written records. We were told he is 98 (though last year
he was over 100) and I found a website that said he was 95 back in 2012. The numbers of his wives, children,
grandchildren, etc also vary with the telling – perhaps 9 wives, perhaps 29,
perhaps 36, and more than 99 (or 120) descendants. Regardless of the numbers,
he seems well loved and respected by his people, and was very kind to us,
granting permission for us to photograph anything we wanted and to spend time
in the village.
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I was amazed at how high the men can leap |
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The goat being sliced up and eaten |
In
this and the surrounding villages controlled by the chief, the locals own
(supposedly) 170,000 cattle, sheep and goats. This figure I can believe as,
later that afternoon, we watched huge numbers of beasties being driven home to
their overnight corrals by the men of the tribe. It was the perfect photo
opportunity – cloven hooves churned up dust from the bone dry ground,
statuesque baobob trees punctuated the landscape like frozen giants, and the
bright reds and blues of the men’s clothing popped against the browns of the
landscape and the animals. We stayed long enough for some sunset images but
then had to be on our way back to Karatu as it’s illegal for tourists to be on
the roads after dark.
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Making friends with the locals (Photo: Trudey Peterson) |
Next
morning we packed our overnight bags and headed back for a full day at the
village and to spend the night in a boma, one of their mud huts, sleeping on a
sort of shelf, made of sticks covered with cow hide. We were free to wander
wherever we chose, spent time with the women and children, watched the slaughter
and preparation, then joined in the consumption of a goat that was killed in
our honour, enjoyed the wonderful spectacle of the men and women dancing for
us, watched the animals coming home
again from their daily grazing and helped by prodding a stick at one or two.
Our
night in the boma was not the most comfortable I’ve had in my life but I slept
a little and would happily repeat the experience in an instant. We were up
early to catch the sunrise over the nearby hills and the huge old baobob in the
centre of the village, then watched
the men driving the animals out for the day’s foraging. Life for the Maasai revolves
around their animals – their cows are their primary source of food, and their
wealth and status are measured in cattle.
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The women dance for us |
Later that morning the Maasai
women tried to teach the women in our team some of their jewellery-making
techniques, and we all bought some of their lovely beadwork as souvenirs of our
time with them. It was with heavy hearts that we farewelled the people who had
welcomed us so warmly into their village and into their lives. The Maasai are
very special people and it was a huge privilege to have spent time with them.
My life has been greatly enriched by the experience.
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Some of the women and children outside one of the bomas |