The Maasai and Local People

Our first boma visit was a very interesting one.  Bomas are groups of homes usually occupied by a number of brothers and their multiple wives (Maasai are polygamous) who raise cattle and shoats (a word we made up to shorten sheep and goats since they look nearly identicle) as well as sometimes practice agriculture.  The women were friendly for the introductions and welcomed us with song and dance.  We, in turn sang them songs (Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes and Build Me up Buttercup) and danced with them.  It was all a very interesting experience. 

Shoats and cattle are a huge part of this people's lifestyle.  Unfortunately, the white man has come in and tried to alter their pastoralist traditions and so sedentrization is become more and more common.  This in turn is perpetuating several types of human-wildlife conflict and environment degradation.   The program I am in here is focused on studying the causes, relationships, and possible for solutions for mitigating such issues and sustainable maintaining wildlife populations for future generations.

The livestock is such a big part of these people's lifestyle that the animals actually roam freely in and out of the bomas (homes) and take refuge everywhere and anywhere in the area.  I love the picture below, not only because of the cute little goat, but also for the way it illustrates how these people construct their homes.  They utilize local woody plants, clay, and animal dung for their manufacturing.  The use of animal dung is just one more example for how integrated livestock are into the lives of these people.  The use of the woody materials, however, is a point of concern.  Though this culture has been building bomas for hundred, even thousands of years, the rapidly growing populations, over exploitation of the natural vegetation communities, and very little rainfall (KBC is located in a semi-arid ecosystem) rapidly deplete these vegetation stores that the local megafauna also depend on.

Jackson, one of our program assistants at KBC showed groups of us inside one of the bomas.  The one I entered was not tall enough for my 5'4" self to stand erect in.  It had three tiny beds, two small holes in the walls for windows, and a baby goat sleeping in the corner.  After my group was done, I did some wandering around the boma camp.  I love the two pictures below for very specific reasons.  The one on the left depicts the nature of the children here.  The little girl is no older than three and the little boy (the hat wearer) no older than two.  He came up to her crying and she took great care in comforting him.  The children here grow up so fast.  Four year olds walk up to two miles by themselves to school each day.  The children are the ones out in the fields attending the shoats despite the presence of lions, hyenas, cape buffalo, and snakes.  Because of this, they grow up with much more common sense, survival instinct, and skill than we do.  Sometimes I still feel like an infant in my competence when standing next to a five year old boy.

The second image is of a girl named Katy Liz.  She is an interesting character- someone I wouldn't usually associate with for a multitude of reasons, but she is intelligent and hard working and I respect her for that.  That has nothing to do with why I like this image though.  I love the juxtoposition of the very white developed world girl photographing the dirty, poverty-stricken third world boy.  I will elaborate on my feelings about this for the next image.

 

While we were touring their homes, the Maasai mamas were setting up their market stations.  The Maasai make beautiful jewelry, carvings, and fabrics and they never stop trying to sell it to white people, or mzungus.  I'm a hard bargainer and left the event with some beautiful jewelry and fabric but also some very weird emotions.  I felt so disconnected, so used, and so peverted in my own use and selfish actions while I was with these people.  Like I was saying earlier with the picture above, we were there taking TONS of pictures. Our selfish goal was to exploit these people for the exoticism, for their novelty, for a picture and a good story to send home.  They were there to exploit us for our money.  They only ever see us as dollar signs.  I make this bold statement because I tried to connect with a young woman that I had been dancing with during the welcoming ceremony at her market station about leg hair of all things.  She was trying to put an anklet on me and I hadn't shaved in eight days- it wasn't a pretty picture.  Anyway, she was having none of it and was getting very frustrated with me because I wasn't paying great enough attention to her merchandise.  She and many others would just push and push their items onto me and it was overwhelming and disheartening.  I felt rejected and used.

They are a beautiful people and I have come to make friends with a lot of the children, but the cultural differences take a lot of work getting past.

There are many young children around KBC living in the homes and coming to and from the secondary school.  They are drawn to white people like bees to a hive.  During my first few days here, we weren't allowed outside the camp.  I would take afternoon walks around the perimeter of the fence and always come across a group of rambunctious boys watching over their shoats.  They love to play fight and have such big attitudes and love presenting their play fighting and attitudes to the camera.  The local children love cameras and demand that you take pictures of them and then show them.  I've spent a lot of time getting to know these boys.  A funny tidbit is that they've all chosen english names for themselves and so many of them are John, John, Jonathan, and Dave, David, and Tom.  It's confusing to remember who is who but sometimes I just pick a common name and it is right.

Now that we are allowed to exit the camp, I spend every afternoon playing with the kids.  The first time we left camp, a group of us girls were out for a walk and were ambushed by a ton of them saying 'Jambo!' and asking us to take pictures of them.  Another unfortunate thing about them is that they are always saying 'Give!' or 'Give me!' about watches, hair ties, bracelets, handkerchiefs, water bottles... basically anything you have on you.  I devised the best solution for this on that first outing- I would start to chase after them and tickle them screaming 'Give me! Give me! Give me!' about one of their shirts or sweatshirts.  Now, they just say those things to me in the hopes that I chase them.  They're so much fun.  I've never been a big kid person but I love playing with these kids and spending time with them and practicing Swahili and English together.  Since that first day, I've developed a great relationship with the local children and play tag and hide-and-go-seek and and sing songs and dance with them whenever I get a spare moment.  Yesterday, on our way to the secondary school, they all came out and came straight for me on the road, calling me by name, talking and laughing with me, and provoking me to play with them even though there were 15 other mzungus around.  The older boys also get all testy with other white people like they originally did with me (one had actually threatened me with a macehte), but now hang on my arms and give me high fives while glaring over their shoulders at my classmates.  I know it's selfish, but it felt good to be recognized and acknowledged, despite some of the other students being there who are overzealous to an obnoxious level about assimilating, learning the language, and making connections with the locals.  I feel that just being myself and treating them like people rather than a novelty is the best way to handle it and it seems to be working just fine.

These children belong to our assistant chef Susanna.  They are the most sweet natured children I've ever met.  I help them carry firewood to their home boundary at night after they have exhausted me by racing me around the camp.  They love to race.  The boy on the far left has deformed legs and rides on my back as we run around so as not to leave him behind.