Maasai Life

To say that mine is truly a journey... I don't know!! Perhaps a fantastic, unrepeatable adventure. I say this because I live in Kenya.. and having gone for a long (or almost) month among the Maasai and a few other local tribes filled me with... I don't know... but I think with a great deal of love for life and for the African people in general. My husband and I set off from Malindi (the town where we live) and by bus headed for Mombasa. Here we continued toward Taveta, where, after about 8 hours of travel crossing the savannah and escorted by police to avoid bandit attacks, we finally arrived at our destination. But not the final one. We reached our destination later with another vehicle (no windows, and with handkerchiefs over our lips to avoid swallowing the huge amount of red earth that came in from the road surface).

A destination reached after, at Taveta, we had to wait about 5 hours sitting at the table of a very African bar, with lots of people drinking Tusker and Pilsner (the favourite local beers). From Taveta to Njukini, a small, indeed very small, Maasai centre. What an emotion. So many huts.... so many modern constructions (as they call them) made of old wood, cardboard and rusted sheet metal. Children scampering everywhere, women with baskets on their heads and big 20-litre jerrycans carried with a handkerchief around the forehead, hung on their shoulders. It would be torture for my poor neck. But the pride of the Maasai women, the sole administrators and the only ones to manage their home. All reeds, cow dung and mud. A mix that would horrify our bejewelled ladies in the city clubs at the mere thought of it. At first some children were frightened at the sight of me.

How was it possible that I was white? An African's skin, in contact with fire, turns pink...... so what about me? I was all burnt!!! It was only after a while that I managed to make the children understand that I was like them, and that only a small difference in colour set us apart. We settled into a hotel that's a far cry from our guest houses..... a squalid place, but with great kindness from those who welcomed us. We took a shower every day at the river (there's no electricity or water) and only that was the moment that refreshed me most. Running river water. Water that comes from the springs of Kilimanjaro. An enchantment. Monkeys leapt from tree to tree, birds sang in their thousands and the children rushed over hoping to see the “white woman” with a few veils less.

Who knows if she was like them!!! My husband frightened them in only one way: by showing them the camera, of which we immediately realised they had a tremendous fear. Perhaps... they didn't even know what it was. After the shower, every morning we set off toward the inside of the manyatta. Everyone called us to drink chai (tea and hot milk) with them in the English manner. Everyone wanted to have the white woman sitting by their hut. And everyone tried to understand, to know, to see, and to listen with the naivety of those who don't know... to all the tales of our ‘civilised and modern’ world. But yes... modern yes... but civilised... I'm not convinced we are more so than them. I saw children share sweets and even just a piece of bread. I saw women breastfeed other Maasai women's children... just because they could!! I saw crying and laughing.

I spent an entire day as a guest at a circumcision ceremony (fortunately female infibulation is not practised here) and I saw an entire Maasai tribe, dressed at their best, with all the ornaments worthy of the finest ‘our’ jewels, all... dancing and smiling on their day of celebration. I, a guest in the front row, rejoiced at their happiness. A wonderful day... instead... was the one spent immersed in the savannah. We went into the bush (the true African savannah) and walked for about 12 hours, hoping to meet animals of various species. I, a little hesitant and fearful (if we met the lion... I prefer not to think about it) realise only now how reckless we were. My husband... proud, confident and scornful of the danger we escaped... still teases me about it today. I must say, though, that it was wonderful to meet gazelles, impala, wildebeest, and wonderful giraffes.

We met Maasai children, proud protectors of groups of cows and goats, driving their livestock toward the savannah. No fear for them, all in the greatest freedom. I thought I was dreaming... me, on foot in the infinite savannah among free animals. An unimaginable sensation. We returned toward evening to our “hotel”, exhausted (I certainly was). I wanted to start all over again. I felt truly free, and, I repeat, only now do I realise what danger I perhaps ran. One more day we went under a great acacia tree out in the savannah, to talk with a group of Maasai gathered at our request. I brought them a message that I didn't think could upset them so much. A friend had given us the go-ahead to have a well built at her expense at a spot very far from the river. A spot where the women would have the best chance of reaching it, without having to travel kilometres to fetch water every day.

The reaction of the dignified Maasai men? The chief stood up. He began to thank me (I had the translator beside me) and told me that from that moment they would pray for me as if I were their second God. I couldn't hold back my tears. I, the bearer of a message... incredibly venerated by so many people... by so many men... by a group of Maasai elders. We returned to the village, happier than ever. Our days passed in the village, among the women and children, who with their smiles made us spend wonderful days, in the fullest simplicity, and gave us unforgettable hours. We'll go back... as we've done every year... since 2001. We'll go back, and if anyone wants to join us, we'll be glad. A hug, Tellonia

Ps: I almost forgot, my husband is Maasai...