Building Bridges from Tanzania to Boston: My Time with the Maasai
How an unexpected encounter became the ultimate cultural exchange—and one of my favorite adventures
by Harriet Lewis
Back in 2000, Alan and I were supposed to be climbing Kilimanjaro when we met Kipuloli Napiteeng—chief of the tiny Maasai village of Sinya, Tanzania. At first, we were disappointed when our climbing plans fell through … but now I realize it was pure serendipity that brought us to Sinya, and it changed my life and my outlook forever.
Willy Chambulo, a longtime friend of ours (and of OAT in general), brought Alan and I into the bush that day. Kipuloli came forward to greet us with incredible warmth and hospitality—I’ve said before that I feel like I’m home whenever I’m in Africa, and the entire village of Sinya immediately made me feel like family. As we got acquainted under a grove of trees, Kipuloli and I (with Willy as our translator) discovered that we shared a passion for education. This gave Alan and me an idea. Since Kipuloli and his people had welcomed us and educated us about their way of life, why not, in turn, do the same for them?
So we invited Chief Kipuloli to come to Boston.
Six months later, passersby at Boston’s Logan Airport were treated to a very unusual sight: Kipuloli, accompanied by his warrior, Lamayani Malee, stepped off of the plane and into the terminal—spear in hand and clad in traditional red robes.
I was instantly and continuously inspired by the openness and curiosity with which Kipuloli and Lamayani approached every new experience (and for Maasai tribesmen from the wilds of Tanzania, everything in Boston was a new experience). Above all, Kipuloli demonstrated to me that he truly is a great leader who is steadfast in his quest to provide the best life possible for his people. We discussed education at length, and Kipuloli wondered whether a more Western model would benefit Maasai children. I encouraged him to consider the implications: if Sinya’s best and brightest were to pursue higher education, who would tend to the cattle and look after the village? In the long run, what would this mean for Maasai culture?
By the time he returned to Tanzania, Kipuloli and I had come up with a way to better the lives of the people of Sinya without compromising their cultural identity. Through Grand Circle Foundation, we pledged to construct a new water tank and a school dormitory for the village. But the visit wasn’t all business. I will never forget leading Kipuloli and Lamayani through the streets of Boston and encountering an enormous parade—complete with outlandish costumes and colorful floats. Between the parade participants and my Maasai friends, I’m not sure who was more surprised by who!
Alan and I are still in close touch with Kipuloli and the people of Sinya. The chief’s hair is looking quite a bit grayer these days, and Lamayani has gotten married. And even though we completed a wonderful circle of cultural exchange after our visit to Sinya and Kipuloli’s trip to Boston, we’ve widened the circle even further. OAT travelers now have the opportunity to visit Sinya during the optional Foothills of Kilimanjaro extension of our Safari Serengeti adventure.
I thought it was Kilimanjaro that would change my life on that day in 2000. A few years later, when I returned to make the climb, it finally did—but not nearly to the same degree as my visit to Sinya. If you ever have the chance to experience the culture of the Maasai people, I think you’ll find your outlook to be forever changed as well. For me, it deepened my appreciation for all we have in common despite our remarkable differences—like our passion for the future of our children. This, for me, is the essence of travel: building bridges between cultures and trying to make a difference.