The final village on my itinerary was the boma complex of Esilalei near Manyara. Clouds dotted the horizon as we moved in the early hours of the morning. As well as being the last destination on my trip, Esilalei was also the furthest from Arusha. Driving was complicated by the hundreds of Safari vehicles moving towards wildlife-rich Lake Manyara, from which they would continue to the lush Ngorogoro crater, and finally to the vast plains of the Serengeti. It was high season in Tanzania, a time in which visitor numbers surpassing one million provide huge economic boosts to the country through wildlife viewing and safaris. Esilalei was a mere six miles from Manyara, meaning that several lodges could be found near the mud-brick bomas surrounding the Manyara hills. It was within the thorned fences of one of these bomas that I would stay for the next two nights, under the roof of an employee from the Isiotok Manyara camp.
On the first of August, I set off on my final medicine walk in Tanzania. The air was crisp but not chilly, so I felt confident in my shorts and t-shirt. In my backpack, I carried the standard equipment: an extra sweater, my Canon Rebel camera as well as a spare lens, my ZOOM handy recorder complete with several deadcats for wind-protection, my two phones, two waters, and my trusty Swiss Army knife. We walked in a party of five: me, my guide Loma, our host, and two other young boys from the boma. These boys were my age; and for the first time, they looked it. Despite their humble abode, their father’s position in the tourism business allowed for the luxury of bread, meat, and fresh vegetables of a quality not available for many Tanzanians. They were tall, reasonably muscular, and showed every sign of glowing health, quite unlike many of the other teens I had seen so far.
We walked for a lengthy three hours through the bush, through dusty ravines, up wooded hillsides, down grassy slopes, and next to the tracks of the elephant and buffalo that called these lands home. I was happy to find several new plants endemic to Manyara, and by the end of the walk I was more than satisfied with the amount of new data recorded and photographed. I felt a tinge of sadness as my walk ended. After a month of research, twenty days on the African savanna, a fever, a sunburn, and a broken car, my time doing fieldwork in Tanzania was officially over. Tomorrow we would set off for Arusha, where I would spend my final five days. After that, it would be to Dar Es Salaam and on at last to my home of California on a long flight away from this beautiful continent.
Over the course of a month, I have documented 90 different plants, made 115 recordings in Maa, and taken 287 photographs of the medicinal plants and preparations of the Maasai. The vast majority of the names are as of yet unrecorded by researchers, and thus at the mercy of history. Now, for the very first time, knowledge of these plants has a home within the files of my computer, and soon on the internet and on the pages of the book I plan to publish. My work here, I believe, is the most extensive yet done on the remedies of the Maasai of Tanzania. It is worth noting that other researchers have recorded the medicinal plants used by Kenyan Maasai, but the flora in northern Maasailand differs from that in Tanzania. The next stage of the Ilomon Project will be undertaken on computers, at desks, and, hopefully, at offices of donors. But I am not planning to leave forever. Africa pulls, captures the mind in its infinite beauty and mystery. Now, I am incapable of escape. Someday, I am sure, I will find myself back among the vast savannas of the Maasai of Tanzania.
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