Getting Personal With the People of Tanzania
Uncomfortable heat and an unfamiliar smoke enveloped me as I stooped through a narrow opening into a tiny mud-and-dung hut and oppressive darkness.
"This is the space set aside for baby animals," my Maasai guide, Amos Mbalala, said as he flashed a narrow beam into a small room.
On he led, deeper into this dark space that opened into a snug room centered around a glowing fire. No windows or chimney allowed fresh air. In one corner, a pregnant woman sat on the floor with a child. She waved to me as my guide explained that hers was the area set aside for mother and children. A small alcove across from her was her husband's sleeping area -- when he was in attendance. A modest shelf made of sticks was home to the woman's bowls, cups and plastic basin. Beneath them were shoes piled on top of firewood. The entire space would fit into my living room, but this was home for this Maasai woman and her brood, and I felt honored to be invited in.
Outside was an organized stack of firewood -- enough to last for weeks -- and other women and children watched us with a fascination that mirrored our own. What very different lives we lead.
My husband and I were on a bucket-list trip to see the wildlife in Tanzania, and we had been well rewarded. But this add-on at the end of our trip is what stood out to me as one of the most impactful moments. I, too, have bowls, cups, shoes, children and a fire, yet my life is so different from hers. I don't have to tend my fire all day in a smoky dark room to keep my children warm at night, and I don't have to carry water from afar or use an outdoor toilet with a soft leaf for cleaning.
The real lesson was in the joy and contentment she and the other women in her family showed us. We learned that they lean on each other to prepare for childbirth and raise their children. One husband might have up to five wives, each with a hut just like the one we visited in an area called a boma, where everyone is family. The children stay in a hut away from their father, who rotates from wife to wife in a way that seems so foreign to me but works for them. They raise cattle and goats, the children play games outside and the women care for one another. It is not a life I want to lead, but it is their life of happiness and joy rather than one of poverty and pity.
Earlier in the day we had visited a co-op of women from several bomas around the area. In recent years they have organized to create a market where tourists on safari would be able to buy souvenirs and provide them with their own money to take to market. We carefully selected our treasures from many offerings and brought them to the Negotiation Table, where Mbalala helped us reach a fair price with the happily chattering traders. They erupted in applause each time a deal was made.
One of the elders of this co-op, Nakaaki Kioki, had come to our camp the night before to tell us a traditional story. She had been a midwife in her younger days and had delivered the very man who was her interpreter. When we asked how many babies she had brought into the world, Kioki explained with a smile that such statistics are not kept because the Maasai don't have a written language. Birthdays to them are meaningless. More important is the Irmegoliki ceremony, in which prayers and songs mark the passage of men through the social stages of the community.
Later, Kioki smiled and hugged me close to her ample bosom before we said goodbye. How gentle she had been in showing me that while our differences exist, we are still women. We have families, homes, livelihoods, stories, traditions and ceremonies. Perhaps we look and sound different, but at the end of the day, it took a trip across the planet for me to see that we are all just getting through life in the best way we can. In many ways the women I met are just like me.
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WHEN YOU GO
Thomson Safaris offers planning assistance for every part of the adventure: thompsonsafaris.com.
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Lesley Frederikson is a freelance writer. To read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.
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