Safari Part 3c

August 31, 2009 (Ngorongoro Crater—on the inside)

Continued...

On our way back to the lodge, Mike stops to gas up the Land Rover. As we’re leaving he suddenly stops and yells. ‘Professor! Professor!’ There is a man he clearly wants us to meet. A well dressed man in his 50s pops his head in. We all say hello. He asks us where we’re from. ‘Canada and America.’ ‘Where in America?’ ‘New York and Phoenix.’

‘New York! I love New York. I lived in the states many years, working and teaching and lecturing. So much fun. Riding in the limos in New York. Oh I love America. American women—they are the best!’

At the end of this last statement, the professor puts his right index finger into his mouth (and not just the tip mind you, the whole finger) and then pulls it out in the clearest pantomime of a blow job I have ever seen.

We all sort of pause, awkwardly. What does one respond? Should I be flattered or offended? Is he expecting an offer?

Mike solves this by saying a quick good-bye and we take off. He tells us we’ve just met Tepilit Ole Saitoti, a well-respected Maasai scholar and author of a number of Maasai books (this is true, I’ve Googled him since). He has given up a career in education to return to his village and the Maasai way of life.

And that is all that is said of our run-in with the Professor. Until the last night on safari after two bottles of wine, when there is much laughter and a number of good impressions and pantomime shows of our own.

At the gate to the lodge sits another Maasai gentleman.

‘Clemens!’

Ah. The mysterious Clemens has come to join us at last. He is a Maasai warrior about 60 years old (the Maasai don’t chart age the way we do—it’s more stages, whether you are a child or an adult—it’s not about what number of years you’ve lived). He is thin, and cataracts cloud his eyes, but they twinkle with his ready laugh. We invite him back into the lodge for a beer. We all get a drink and settle down in the bar.

He proceeds to launch into a few stories—I wish I could do it justice in writing, next time I see you, ask for a Clemens story.

One story was of the leopard he killed. This was only ten years ago or so, so he’s about 50. A leopard had been taking some of their goats at night, as leopards are want to do, but one night he took a little girl from the village. The little girl was Clemens niece. The next day they found her up in the leopard’s tree (leopards are the only one of the big cats that kill for sport, not just to eat—and the only cat the Maasai fear). Clemens resolved to do something about it.

That night he slept in the goat pen where the leopard had been coming. He lay there wrapped in his shuka and armed only with his spear and knife. During the night he heard the goats get restless. He woke up and lay still but couldn’t see the leopard. Then he heard a goat scream. He sprang up. The leopard turned and came for him. He threw his shuka over the leopard's head to confuse him and then—wham—put his spear between the cat's ribs, directly in his heart.

Whether this story is entirely true, I don’t know, but it's still pretty impressive.

Clemens also told me of when he was mauled by an elephant on the road by the lodge. He was walking the road at night with two other warriors when they were set on by an elephant. The two other warriors were young, so they ran to try to draw the elephant away from Clemens. It didn’t work.

The elephant hit him once, raking his right leg from ankle to hip. The elephant hit him again, gouging his right side. This hit knocked Clemens, luckily, into a ditch. This hit also, luckily, removed his shuka. He lay under the elephant in the ditch until the elephant decided that the shuka on his tusks was enough evidence of a dead man for him to continue on his way.

Clemens spent two years in the hospital recovering, and had only been out for a year or so. He showed me his scars. It’s pretty impressive.

He also told us of killing lions, the traditionally Maasai right of passage, and how lions have come to recognize their traditional red shukas and will run upon spotting one. They also apparently recognize the scent of a Maasai and will retreat when it is on the wind. Mike bore witness to seeing that happen on a number of occasions when taking Clemens on safari.

I ask about the cheek scars—I’ve seen most Maasai with two perfect circles on each cheek. It’s given to them as children. Whenever there is an outbreak of fever among the kids the medicine man cuts the small circles on their cheeks and puts a medicine on it. So kind of like a vaccine.

He also tells us of how the Maasai tradition of removing the two lower front teeth came about. There was an outbreak of tetanus many years ago, and to save those whose jaws locked up, they would cut out the two bottom front teeth in order to feed them milk. And now, you do it because you are Maasai.

We also talk a lot of the changing of the culture in Africa and what will happen to the Maasai. They have certainly retained a lot of their culture, but as their children go off to school and the world encroaches on their herds and land, the future is uncertain. But Clemens maintains that the Maasai will always be Maasai, and that more often then not, those that leave for school, choose to return to traditional life.

His eyes twinkle and he asks me ‘You like Africa?’

‘Yes. Very much.’
‘You want to stay?’
‘Sure.’
‘Can you build a house? Carry water? Chop firewood? This is women’s work.’

Yes—some things in Maasai culture are alive and well.

We talk a lot more about the Maasai culture and his life, and receive an invitation to visit his home in the morning and meet one of his wives. We accept.

Anita leaves to send and e-mail and Lisa to clean up, and as Clemens and I are finishing our beer and discussing circumcision, Mike returns. He wants to drive Clemens home because there are elephant near the lodge gates and he doesn’t want a repeat maul.

I immediately invite myself along for the drive. Elephant, by the gate, hell yes. Sure enough there are about 10 male elephant on their way to water. We stop and hang out in the chilly night air to just watch for a while.

Then we deliver Clemens safely home, promise to see him in the morning, and head back to dinner and bed.

Tomorrow we leave for the Serengeti.

Photos: Clouds spilling over the rim of the Crater--lake below. The Crater as seen from above. Clemens.