Somehow I managed to find myself in the path of a group of 10 Maasai men approaching, dancing, and deep throat singing. I have never felt more like an out of place tourist in my life, yet I was mesmerized by the culture that was sprung upon me.
(Can you spot the giraffes in the background?)
They are a semi-nomadic people who are undeniably the best at herding cattle and were once known for hunting lions as a rite of passage into manhood. They perform rhythmic songs and dances, they wear traditional clothing and they consume mainly raw cow’s milk, blood and meat.
Their homestead is made up of small huts that house up to 6 people, they’re built from mud and sticks and the village is encircled by thorn bushes as a means of protection from predatory animals.
Then I noticed a group of Maasai women who had formed a semi-circle that were performing their own song and vertically jumping to the beat. Once I approached, it didn’t take long for one to place a traditional neck piece over my head, secure it, and take me by the hand as a way to invite me into the dance. I took her lead and hopped to the beat. I was already a foot taller than her so I decided to be subtle with my jumps.
The Maasai men on the other hand put on quite a show of high jumps. It’s a way to compete and show off as men of all cultures like to do in some form or another. This jumping dance is yet another reminder to me that no matter the apparent differences between our cultures, there will always be similarities, we are human after all.
Much like how I was quickly and at first, briefly and maybe forcibly assimilated into the women’s dance, the men in our group were now putting on a show by trying their best to jump as high as they could. They all came away from that experience with a newfound respect for the ability to jump and I came away with some stronger abs after laughing so hard at their effort.
After leaving the village, we noticed groups of young Maasai boys near the side of the road who were wearing all black with strikingly white markings drawn on their foreheads and faces. I later learned that these boys were currently in the “coming of age” time in their lives. They had undergone the ritual circumcision, which is done without anesthesia and the boys must go through the painful procedure without expressing discomfort. Then they are sent to live on their own in a village built by their mothers (the women in the village are responsible for building all of the homes) with out any thorny bushes, as a way to prove they can protect themselves from predators.
Each day of that safari was so jam packed with new sights, sounds, experiences, and realizations that I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it all.