Hey Everybody!
So, it's been quite awhile since I've provided a comprehensive update, and as I approach my three-month mark in the village, I feel rather compelled to get back to some of my "Goal 3" Peace Corps duties: sharing Tanzania with Americans back home. So, here's a brief rundown of my life, as of late. After this update, I'm going to start putting up thematic posts regarding different aspects of Tanzanian culture and my service experience, starting with something on Maasai culture and agriculturalist-pastoralist conflict in my region.
The past three months have been, well, difficult. The Peace Corps has been described by some as a 27 month camping trip, and I'm starting to see why. Now, I've always loved camping and the outdoors, but I've only ever experienced them in moderation. After going months without a real shower or hot water (both of which I often had access to when camping!), cooking over charcoal or kerosene twice a day, washing clothes and dishes by hand, trying vainly to keep dust and creepy-crawlers and livestock out of my living space, avoiding getting stabbed by enormous thorns everyday in the bush, clearing animal droppings away from the front of my house, walking miles to get anywhere, using nothing but squat latrines... well, let's just say that I'm a little camped-out. However, every three weeks or so, I try to get into "town" - which means a dusty, bumpy, altogether hellish 6 hour "bus" ride (one way) - and the therapy of tasty food, electricity, running water, and wi-fi helps cover the impending return to the village. (But even in town there's no hot showers - unless you pay through your nose for it).
But far more taxing than all of that stuff is the stress that comes from trying to integrate with my Maasai neighbors. I'll address this in another post, but for now, let's just say that there are some cultural peculiarities that have been making my work difficult here.
But, moving on: despite all my complaining, these past three months have been incredibly rewarding, and I'm slowly adjusting to village life... and I'm even starting to like it. Everything is slower here, and I get a lot of time to reflect on daily experiences, really be with people (there’s nowhere else to go, really), and read and write on a daily basis. Peace Corps policy is that a volunteer should not start a project in the first three months in the village (integration is a full-time job, so they say), so I’ve got time aplenty. I finally got to read The Brothers Karamazov (unforgettably wonderful!), and I'm working on Moby Dick - two books I found difficult to finish in America. Granted, having all this time on my hands can be a bit of a downer in itself, as I’m still under the 24/7 watchful life-scrutiny of my neighbors. I’m very much looking forward to getting going on a project – whatever that may be.
But, I say again, I’ve been having plenty of enriching and eye-opening experiences in Loolera the past three months. Here’s a brief rundown:
1) Every week, I try to walk or bike out to more remote Maasai households to introduce myself and get that family’s take on development in the village. This has been… interesting. Many of these more remote families don’t really know Swahili (let alone English), and some have never seen a white person before. When I stroll up to a Maasai boma (a thorny enclosure for cattle, surrounded by mud huts), children invariably run for the hills, women back away, and elders and warriors cautiously approach me with quizzical looks on their faces. I’ve had mixed luck on these outings – I’m never received hostility, but some of my interviewees have definitely been suspicious and even annoyed. And if nobody speaks Swahili, well, it’s really awkward..
2) 3 days a week, I travel with my village’s health dispensary on what is called a ‘mobile clinic’ – basically, we drive a big land cruiser way back into the bush to far-out Maasai villages, pop up a table and a hanging scale, and wait around for Maasai women to bring their babies to be weighed and given vaccinations. It’s not much in terms of healthcare, but it’s all the dispensary can do, and it’s better than nothing. We had been offering HIV tests to the women, but recently we “ran out.” So, who knows when we’ll be starting that up again. The health workers who go on these clinic days are generally Maasai themselves, so they facilitate the communication and ‘organization’ (and I use the term loosely) at field sites. I help by weighing babies (who freak out when they see me), try to talk with the local warriors (who sometimes know Swahili), and generally get stared at and laughed at by the Maasai mothers.
3) As some of you may know, a while back I attended a Maasai circumcision event (for boys, just to be clear – they don’t let men attend the women’s circumcisions; plus, it’s illegal, and while all the women get it done, it’s pretty secretive). It was pretty, well… I don’t know how to describe it, really. It is an initiation rite, a test of bravery for boys who are about to join the ranks of the warriors. No drugs are used, and the boys cannot show any sign of pain or fear during the procedure. I got up at the crack of down and was led to a Maasai boma by my neighbor. Two boys, 15 and 18, were undergoing the test that morning. They looked pretty scared. The elders were already drunk - they must have started at 4am! First, the boys were bathed with ice cold water. Then, one after the other, they were made to sit naked on a piece of cow hide, legs spread apart in front of them. One man, I think it was their father, held them down by sitting behind them and holding their chests. The boys had to put their hands under their knees and look straight ahead, without moving a muscle or uttering a sound. The guy who does the procedure (and charges about $18 per boy), who had arrived on motorcycle about 1.5 hrs late (classic Tanzania), unceremoniously pulled out a fresh scalpel blade and completed his work in about 1.5 minutes. (Incidentally, I was being urged to take pictures the whole time by those around me! That was shocking. Of course, I refused). When he finished with one boy, he dropped the scalpel, blew a little whistle, and all the elders and warriors who were gathered around watching spat on the ground. Milk was poured on the wound. The boys seemed pretty dazed by the pain, and following Maasai tradition, were led back to bed where they would be fed 1.5 liters of cow lard (mmm.. that’ll make it feel better) and would try to rest from the ordeal. Meanwhile, all the rest of the guys started drinking again, roasting a cow and pretty much partied for the rest of the day. I didn’t get to stay around for the feast that day, but I did go to another a couple weeks back. I had the best beef I’ve had in a long time – roasted over an open fire – and got to watch Maasai warriors dancing and singing with Maasai girls. It was quite a treat.
4) Another Maasai custom I’ve gotten to participate in is what I’ll call, for lack of a better term, a Maasai “Bro-Barbeque.” Traditionally, every year the young warriors in one “age-set” go way out into the bush for about 3 weeks at a time to camp, bringing a few cows and nothing else. There, they do nothing but roast and feast on beef, drink traditional medicine (including cow lard), and just chill out. It’s supposed to be a vacation of sorts, as well as a camaraderie and strength-building exercise. I got to participate in a watered-down version of this – the warriors I was hanging out with were too frugal and too busy to invest the cows and time required for the actual retreat. Instead, we did it at my neighbors’ house, for just one night, with a billy goat instead of beef. I participated in the communal sharing of meat: chunks are cut off the goat leg and handed out in turn to men circled around; you’d better hope you can swallow down that chunk (whatever it might be – fat, sinew, etc.) before your turn comes around again!! I got to drink some of the medicinal broth (really oily, but okay), and I tried a taste of the goat “oil” (liquefied lard). I wasn’t able to finish that, but I watched one warrior down a full half-liter of it. Subsequently he went to bed and was sick for the rest of the day – apparently they inflict this suffering on themselves in the belief that it builds strength and health following the ordeal. You’re “not allowed” to vomit, whatever that means.
5) On one occasion, I got to go tend the cattle with one my neighbors. This basically means following a herd of cows through the bush for about 9 hours, whistling, shouting, and brandishing sticks to keep them moving the right way. It was actually a lot of fun, and a good insight into what a good portion of a Maasai man’s life is like. I ate a lot of wild fruit, killed a puff adder, and consistently slowed down our progress by sending mixed signals to the cows.
6) Over the past three months, I’ve seen a few wild animals in the bush around Loolera, including: a dik-dik (small antelope), groups of mongoose, small wildcats (actual ancestors of the domestic cat), a genet (kind of a cross between a cat and a weasel), that puff adder, and a black mamba. Some nights I hear the hyenas calling at night around the village, and I keep hearing stories about the lions and leopards attacking livestock on the western side of the village. Recently, some elephants have wandered into the bush nearby, but they have showed up near the village – yet. Bird sightings continue to be incredible.
Okay, I have to get going, so I’ll let this suffice as an update for now.
Hope everyone back hope is having a wonderful summer! Goodness knows I miss it – especially the mountains and the woods and the lakes and the trout streams! And, of course, friends and family!
