Introduction
I have spent a significant portion of my teenage and adult life binging on YouTube videos and blogs about unique and unusual parts of the world, from spear-wielding African tribes to remote Siberian mountain dwellers, all the while thinking to myself, HOW can I find these and in my lifetime will I EVER get to meet these people?
Well, I later discovered that it’s not too hard. Here is my guide on how to survive 72 hours with an African tribe: The Maasai Tribe
How Does One Find The Tribe?
Well, there are two ways to do this. One: Pay good money to a tour guide and arrive in style OR pay for flights and use your eyes and ears to arrive at your destination(which is not guaranteed).
These two methods essentially have pros and cons; both can work, but the authenticity of your experience will differ. Let me break down the two different approaches to finding the Maasai land:
Using Your Eyes, Ears And Gut:
This is my preferred method as I crave the feeling of my heart beating out of my chest.
Doing adventures solo and without guidance from a tour operator is excellent when it works.
It provides the opportunity to discover one’s character and to see a more authentic side of the place or person being visited, BUT it comes with a risk.
Travelling to the planes of Africa with nothing but the low battery on your phone and a squashed pack of cigarettes is exhilarating for me; opting into the unknown with the chances of finding gold at the end is the aim of the game.
You can find what you’re looking for or be left sitting on a rock with a squashed piece of cardboard and no battery.
One fun, one not so, trust me on this one.
Using A Tour Operator
For many, this is the most viable option, reducing your chances of sitting on the side of a road with no cigarettes left.
Tours offer security in knowing you have somewhere safe to sleep at night and transport is available when needed.
I would be lying if I said I have never taken a tour before and if I said I loved them.
Tour operators can sometimes be fraudulent in terms of authenticity; what I mean by that is I’ve heard tour guides bringing naive adventuregoers to fake settlements.
Anyway, I chose to go with my gut and the chances of clenching into an empty cigarette box. It worked out. Here is my story
How I Found These Indigenous People.
This all started in Arusha, Tanzania, a tiny little town at the foot of Kilimanjaro. Fresh off the plane from Dar Es Saleem (the Capital of Tanzania), I was ready to get weird.
Like the beginning of any good travel story, I met some random man with an eye patch at the airport door asking me if I wanted a lift; it was too good to be true. I obliged with no hesitation.
The taxi man/random man asked, “Where you wanna go, my friend?” me “to the liquor store so I could buy some Konyagi (African moonshine) for the Maasai tribe.
He laughed and said no problem.
(With these kinds of adventures, you’ve got to roll with the punches and trust strangers. In the world we live in today, a stranger is to be deemed a threat; I’ve adopted that mentality, but the other way around)
From there, he introduced me to a friend of a friend who knew someone who could get me into the tribe. Easy.
Day 1: Immersed in the Maasai Life
Morning:
Rise and shine early doors; I had woken up entangled in a mosquito net by the taxi man knocking on my door.
The taxi man’s friend is the gentleman above with the bottle of konyagi. Over the coming days, we had got up to all sorts, but that’s for a different day.
Chris was here to show me to the tribe and return three days later to collect me.
Let’s fast forward to the next phase of my morning, where Chris left me just inside the Maasai village. It was time to meet the chief and the gang.
We sat around chatting about who I was and why I was there. I had one answer and one answer only… To drink Konyagi!
But that’s a joke; there is a catalogue of reasons why I am interested in these tribal experiences, which deserve their post on their own.
Breakfast is on the menu; it is time for some Uji, a hearty porridge crafted from maize, millet, or sorghum. It’s us up for the day.
Noon:
As the sun reaches its zenith, chief Mollel rounds up the Maasai women and men for the next phase of the afternoon. Our mission? To traverse the sprawling Maasai landscape, herding cattle in a spectacle reminiscent of a Wild West showdown.
Although I am from Ireland, known for its livestock, I am from the city, where we don’t ride on bulls to the pub but drive our cars (joke), so this was a new experience for me.
Venturing into the role of a cattle herder alongside the Maasai warriors felt like stepping onto a film set from a wild-western epic infused with the inimitable spirit of the Maasai. What a way to spend the afternoon.
Lunch is a carnivore’s paradise—nyama choma, succulent skewers of grilled goat meat paired harmoniously with the verdant glory of sukuma wiki.
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The tantalizing aroma alone could evoke a roar from the mightiest of lions, and by Lions, I mean the two top dogs in the village. (See below for a picture of Chief Molell and another warrior’s whose name I forget)
Night:
With the relentless sun beating down upon us, the Maasai commence a dazzling display of their vibrant culture—the legendary Maasai jumping dance.
Once they began, I couldn’t help but think that they were doing it for my entertainment, which would not be my wish as I am here on my own to integrate as much as possible and not have them perform for me.
I raised my concern with the chief, who assured me he would do the same if I weren’t here.
This sat well with me, so I made my way through the cattle we had just brought down from the side of the mountain and started jumping for the stars with them.
There is no better feeling than Getting Down with Maasai Traditions.
As darkness blankets the land, we gather around a crackling fire, with the stars above serving as our sole audience.
What’s a Maasai night without, Konyagi? Crafted from a blend of secret herbs and spices, it is one of the true spirits of the nation.
We raise our glasses, toasting our epic adventures under the vast African sky, singing songs about the rainfall.
It was something else.
Day 2: The Goat
Morning:
Before embarking on my journey, I had informed my Dutch friend about my desire to purchase a goat for the tribe.
He questioned my motives and asked me why I wanted to buy a goat for these people.
Being a good friend, I couldn’t lie, so I told him the truth – I wanted to do it simply because I had never bought a goat.
I could see doubt running down his face like tears when I said this. Today was my day to shine.
We trekked up the mountain like goats and spent hours chatting about their perspectives on the world, comparing and contrasting. This is what it’s all about.
Hours later, we arrived at an area with different goats eating shrubbery; at this point, I had to choose which one I wanted, which I did. I picked the one that looked most like my Dutch friend.
To be clear, I had no idea what would happen with the goat before I got into this next part.
My original plan was to integrate it with their goats, standing over it like a proud father as their child walks into the schoolyard for the first day, ready to experience the highs and lows of life. I was wrong.
Noon
As the sun fell behind the horizon, we began to sing and dance, conversation as potent and rich as the bottle of Konyagi in my hand.
As we say in Ireland, we were having the craic and, before you know it, the goat I had bought was BBQ’d up.
This was a graphic scene so I will move on swiftly.
Night:
We spent this night like before, drinking and dancing, sharing stories of our past and hopes for the future.
Mollel is the one that keeps law and order in the village, so naturally, he didn’t like to see his people drinking Konyagi all night; this is why I took the honourable 10k walk on my own to the nearest town to stock up and the good stuff.
In the image below, the son, dressed in a blue robe on the right, follows in line as the chief.
At night, when the chief went to bed, It was his job to protect me and the cattle, which was pretty cool.
He would stay awake outside the hut I was in at night to ensure no one would come and harm me; in return, I would pass out cigarettes and Konyagi, fair trade.
Day 3: Final Goodbyes
Morning:
Like every other morning, I woke up to the peering eyes of two Maasai men sitting in the corner of the Boma (Maasai hut). “morning, Mr Nala, what would you like to do today?” me “Konyagi?”
This has become a running joke with the tribe; everything we did or said ended up talking about a bottle of konyagi or drinking one.
Being from Ireland, we tend to bond over alcohol, something that is embroidered into the fabric of our culture.
I wondered if they had enjoyed drinking it every night as I did or were just being polite.
Either way, it served us well.
My new Konyagi tattoo will always remind me of the fantastic stargazing nights I spent with this group.
Noon:
On my last day, I went on a hike up the side of the mountain again, but this time it was to see a huge tree.
One of the warriors I hung around with talked about it every night around the fire.
He had a real passion for it, and I shared his enthusiasm. We could barely see it from afar, but we trekked out there.
What a way to spend an afternoon.
Night:
After hanging around the tree with my new friend, we safely returned to the village.
You always get a warm, strange feeling after returning from an unknown place to somewhere you are familiar with; every time I left and returned to my hut, I experienced a feeling of familiarity and safety that was once absent.
It’s amazing how a place that was once so unfamiliar can become a haven with time.
A collection of these small moments can add to an experience; watch out for them.
We finished with a few drinks around the fire, reflecting on the last three days, what I thought of them and what they thought of me.
People facing climate change struggle but find joy in the common; this is my synopsis of the Maasai tribe.
Final Thoughts
It would not be possible to condense all the moving scenes I witnessed over the days I spent with the Maasai, so here I will leave three main takeaways I gained from the experience.
1) Strangers Can Be Strange, But Strange Is Not Always Bad – If I had a mindset that I couldn’t trust strangers, I wouldn’t have accomplished a quarter of what I have.
Allow people into your story; human beings are unique. Like the taxi man above, learn to identify the right people to improve travel.
2) Give Respect, And You Shall Receive – These people are unique, just like you and me, so show them respect and give them space when needed.
The whole idea of an excursion like this is to integrate and spectate. Standing over them with a camera while brushing their teeth will result in experience loss.
3) Express But Not To Excess – This is just an extension of number two; If you’re anything like me, you might find yourself talking nonsense to strangers even when you should stop.
However, it’s essential to remember that people have different backgrounds, and what might be funny to you might not be funny to someone else.
