Datoga cattleherds
and sister
We found the Hadza camp in the trees between the hills and the flat
swampland. We set up camp of our own a little further on under the
acacia trees. There was a cooking tent, a dining tent, an outhouse
tent, a shower tent, and we each had a sleeping tent. We ate
well while camping, excellent soups!
We walked over to the Hadza camp to introduce ourselves. Twenty-five
women and children are sitting on the ground in a tight group. It
is a very close-knit family as they have little contact with others.
They are chewing pieces of roasted roots that have the mild taste of turnips
and a fibrous texture like sugarcane. The next day the women
showed us how they dig the roots and roast them.
Digging
Cooking
The Hadza were shy and quiet, reserved but friendly. If pronounced
correctly, a greeting of "M-taana" was rewarded with a chorus of "M-taana"
replies. Missionaries have been here and so the Hadza now wear western
clothing rather than their traditional skins.
Siagi took us on a long walk along the hills to a site with some faint
cave drawings. Following him was like being in the movie "The Gods
Must Be Crazy".
Along the way, if he felt like smoke, Siagi would very quickly make
fire and smoke some tobacco wrapped in newspaper.
Siagi starting fire
After lunch, Siagi and Moragi demonstrated how they make arrows.
In a few minutes they had stripped, straightened, and hardened a wooden
shaft. Notched it and scored it. Antelope tendons are
used to secure guinea fowl feathers to the tail of the shaft.
Moragi making an arrow
Later we walk around on a "hunt" but we are too many and too noisy to
sneak up on any animals.
Deciding where
to hunt
After the hunt
In the evening the men squatted around the campfire talking softly,
telling stories and watching us. A young hunter returned with
a dove he had shot. He gave it to Moragi who plucked the tailfeathers
and tossed it into the fire whole. After turning it a few time with
his bare hands, Moragi took the dove and broke it into pieces, giving it
to the others at the fire. They ate the entire bird: bones,
beak and all; not a single bit was wasted.
It struck me that they seemed totally in-place and we were a lot like space aliens with our nylon and aluminum tents, battery-heated shower, and flashlights.