Eluwai, Tanzania

Location:
Tanzania

tanzania africa

By finbar

"Another time or place, Another civilization, Would really make this life feel so complete."

- Neil Young, (Dreamin' Man)

In the fall of 2005, I lived for ten weeks as a teacher volunteer in a Maasai village in Eluwai, Tanzania. When I arrived in Maasailand in October, I can remember well how alien the culture seemed. All the stories of Maasai goat blood drinking and female circumcision were beyond comprehension. Insane really. That is until I began the obligatory reflective phase of my African experience, as I pondered the ins and outs of life and times in North America.

The circus of thoughts came and went. What exactly is an Mp3? Who paid for all those Police Academy films to be made? Is Rob Thomas the Anti Christ? And how can anyone explain the prolonged success of Phil Collins?

One afternoon in early November, I took out an old newspaper arts/life section smuggled from Canada. Before long, two Maasai had become parrot-perched on my shoulder with their usual wide-eyed enthusiasm. 'Teacher teacher, English, English'. They wanted me to read with them. No bother, I thought. I began with the headlines.

“Nick and Jessica on the rocks”

At first I made a vague attempt at explaining reality TV to them, then I gave up after a glance at the next story.

“Canine weight loss program gaining in popularity”

Apparently dog fitness had become the new black in certain social circles of urban Canada.

It was the end of English lessons for the day.

That evening, the same Maasai that wondered at the concept of real people on TV were dancing and singing away. Our Maasai were always happiest during the dance. Sure they enjoyed fiddling around with my indiglo watch, but when the sun went away so did their fascination with all things modern. They would disappear back into their own proud traditions, while the group of us would look on and try our best to hide any jealousy.

The friends I have made in Eluwai are content to be Maasai, but not silly enough to ignore the rest of the world. These people are indeed in the midst of rapid change. The signs are everywhere. In the last decade especially, cups of goat’s blood are being replaced by coke bottle consumerism at an alarming rate. In light of this, in a wave of reverse imperialist thinking, many westerners now view cultures such as the Maasai as necessary subjects for cultural preservation. Indeed, many older tourists I met express their disappointment that the Maasai can now be found behind the wheel of a Jeep or even chatting on their mobile phones.

A bit selfish on our part I think. There is a troubling paradox at work here. Many of the Maasai today want desperately to embrace elements of western culture into their daily routine. Stallone, Hilfiger, CNN, they want it all. In turn, westerners view the primitive lifestyle of the Maasai and believe that they hold lessons that the west has forgotten (which, most definitely, is true). In reality, we don't sincerely mean for anything to come of our adoration. The Maasai, though, seem to take their envy a great deal more seriously.

The Maasai today may closely resemble the position of the North American Aboriginals of generations past. They are at a cultural crossroads. Not wanting to lose their way of life, but not full of alternatives either. As politically and economically marginalized as they are and without a written language or history, the Maasai are not in a prime position to keep traditions alive.

At the time of writing, the not for profit organization that I worked for is scrambling to raise cash to fund a new Maasai-run school in the village. The hope is that local Maasai could be employed as teachers to pass on their history and traditions to the new generations. The school would also provide vocational training and English/Swahili lessons to allow Maasai men and women to adapt to the new realities of a globalized Africa. As the whole of Africa develops, the Maasai, like all Africans, deserve to benefit from the fruits of infrastructure and health care progress. The goal is to make sure the price of development doesn't include complete assimilation. It is a game of balancing that the Maasai are losing, slowly.

Trading more stories with Isaya on my last night in the village, we overlooked the wild expanse of the Serengeti and consumed the first of many warm sodas that night. The burning sun that rules the day was falling as the conversation bounced from my traditions to his and back again. The world became smaller with every sentence and every laugh. In the midst of explaining to him the concept of refrigeration, Isaya was summoned for the nightly dance. He left saying it was a good idea but that he preferred his soda warm.