Unlike the sour tasting Masai village experience on the way to Lake Manyara, today's time with the Hadzabe bushmen tribe was exactly what we were looking for. Though it came at the expense of learning exactly what "headache" really means...
I awoke with a start to Beth scream-whispering at Abby and I to wake up: "craig!!!! You're late!!!! Everyone is waiting!!!". Wow, we had switched sleeping arrangements last night and Abby and I were on our own right next door to Beth. I kind of figured Timex would wake us up at 5:45 but that didn't happen. However, in the end...we all miraculously survived...
On the bumpy road to meet the bushmen, we picked up our guide Rasuli, a really nice twenty seven year old guide who could speak the Hadzabe language that incorporates the clicking and crazy tongue maneuvers similar to the Namibian bushmen made popular in the Gods Must Be Crazy.
We arrived at a remote outcropping of rocks that the tribe calls home. They sleep in caves and small mud huts, and while they used to be strictly nomadic, nowadays with tourism and help from the government, they've been able to retain their culture with no doubt some added creature comforts.
We introduced ourselves to a small group of men of varying ages. They were all huddled around a small fire, in various phases of preparing some weaponry for the morning hunt. The way they kibitzed back and forth around the fire reminded me of a group of Canadians sitting around a Tim Hortons table drinking double doubles before their day started. Rasuli said that nights were quite cold so they started their day with a fire to get their bodies moving. They didn't wear much - some western clothing like shorts or ratty t-shirts, with more traditional covers to keep them warm and camouflaged - most popular was the Vidal Sassoon baboon coat, or the DKNY squirrel or sabre cat head wrap.
We followed the little fellows out to the bush and the hunt was on! They carried bows and arrows and we had our trusty cameras.... we felt.... ready!
The little buggers moved very quickly, and our group who has done nothing but eat and drink was actually starting to raise our heart rates for the first time in weeks just trying to keep up with them. It didn't help that the terrain they just passed through easily would turn into a fence of barb wire for us....these guys had tough skin!
Soon, we were in a dry river bed valley when they started hooping and hollering and getting very excited. They surrounded a set of trees and we saw the objects of their excitement - two very small squirrels. Before long, one of them came out with a dead squirrel - somehow they had shot it down with their little arrows. Robin came and grabbed it by the tail and we got a "conquest shot" for fun. It was impressive that they could get the little creature from a fair distance away through a thick mess of branches.
They kept shooting at the other squirrel while we waited on the river bed with Rasuli. In a not-so-urgent voice Alex said "headache, headache" - with that seemingly innocuous hint of a command, the other Versly backed off while the four Tyndalls turned to Alex to try and process just what the hell he was saying. I then looked up, seeing an arrow generally heading in our direction - I couldn't decide whether to start debating with Alex on just what would be the point of having an "insider" sounding warning message like "headache!" (For christs sake...lol), or move out of the way of the arrow.
So I moved. The other Tyndalls followed suit.
Headache? Really? Alex later explained (after the laughter died down) that that's what he learned while playing soccer in the States growing up... what? That's normal right? Ahhh...no. "Heads up!", "move!", "arrow!", "danger!", "look out!", "move it!", even "fourrrrrr!" would have done the trick. A headache is a condition not a warning. Fuck. Lol.
Alex then disappeared into the bush, and I half thought we was going to ask the bushmen how to say "headCLICKache" in their language, but it turns out he was joining the hunt as an embedded reporter. Not moments later he came out of the bush with a gigantic five inch long squirrel! The guys had shot another one down and our reporter, complete with binoculars (to study the squirrel from close range no doubt), phone and chest mounted GoPro was there to see it all.
When he came stumbling out of the bush with the squirrel, it was so funny. We kid Alex a lot, but he really is the adult equivalent of Robin: so enthusiastic and he will literally try anything and go anywhere. I almost picture the bushmen reviewing their secret GoPro footage of the hunt later and laughing their asses off.
After an hour or so, we ended up with two squirrels and two birds. It was time for a little impromptu campfire. The men made fire in about a minute using a hardwood staff drilled by hand into a softwood branch. It was amazing how quickly they could do it. Before long, they had Chet's nuts roasting on an open fire (that's what we'd named the first squirrel), as well as the other squirrel and one of the birds. They saved the fatter birds to give to the kids back in the village.
When the meat was charred and the innards were cleaned and the carcass was recooked, it was time to sample the bird - guess who? Alex and Robin had the two small morsels of meat on the bird's body....tasted like chicken - go figure?
We walked back to the village area and saw a bunch of bows and arrows strung around a large Baobab tree. It was time to try our hands at archery bushmen style. Our little Katniss from Sri Lanka was disappointed she didn't hit the target gourd right away...she blamed the inferior equipment, but Abby was the first of us to get a wonky shot to hit the target and stick.
It was time to go. We tipped the tribe $20 and they seemed ecstatic, suddenly accompanying us back to our cars with big smiles. It was quite a nice experience, I have to say. For the kids, it was exactly what they were looking for and it turned the Masai experience on its head as to how to mutually benefit from a cultural exchange.
Before we were done, we paid a visit to a nearby trade that were known as the "blacksmiths". They used a couple of cow udders, a clay funnel and coal to melt different recycled metals and make them into crafts (or arrows for the bushmen that they would trade for honey). The process was pretty interesting. We also got to visit one of the low mud houses to see how the women made corn meal. The main purpose of this stop was to peruse the metal crafts, and we ended up buying a number of copper, brass and tin bracelets as a show of support.
We returned to Tindaga around 11am (the name of the tented camp literally means marshy area, but it was pretty dry here in the winter season) with the promise of a brunch... oh yeah, we'd missed breakfast (but not snacks.... we westerners are like squirrels, always hiding snacks in case of the prospect that we will ever have mild hunger pangs....). The brunch was hilarious. First, they served us eggs, pancakes, fruit and toast. Immediately after, they served us a huge plate of spaghetti with meat sauce...so funny.... here's your breakfast, here's your lunch - there's your brunch!
We checked out and got back in our rides. The bumpy ride back to the main road somehow didn't seem as bad as yesterday. The section of smooth "highway" didn't last long before we were at the gates of Ngorongoro conservation area (I learned the difference between a conservation area and national park in Tanzania was that some people still lived in the conservation areas (namely, the Masai) but that they had to abide by typical national park rules (no hunting, no development etc).
The Ngorogoro park, and in particular the large alien like crater that sits in the middle of the extinct Ngorogoro volcano was one of the top sites to see in Tanzania and we'd really been looking forward to this. Our first peak of the crater was when we'd checked in through the gates and climbed for twenty minutes up to 2,100 meters above sea level. We got out at an observation deck and looked down into the crater....beautiful. It is a massive bowl with dense trees and vegetation around the sloped sides of the crater and thinning vegetation around the base of the slope. Inside that was miles and miles of grass land, surrounding a marsh which surrounds a lake. Even with the naked eye, you could see large herds of animals far below, and Grayson even spotted a black rhino lazing in the afternoon sun.
We checked Into out lodge, called the Rhino lodge, which was like a really nice Nepali tea house but with a huge semi formal dining room. We will be spending two nights here before heading out to the Serengeti.
Luckily there is no hunting allowed in this conservation area, so I have little to no fear of headache moments....
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