Motion Meets Maasai
"What are these marks for? I asked… it’s for all my wives and 47 girlfriends” he said. I laughed and responded, “I guess I have to catch up”.
When I arrived, I didn't know what to expect. Yesterday, I had been pleasantly engulfed in a captivating safari. Something about seeing a plethora of animals in their natural habitat, a few that I had never set my eyes upon in real life was fascinating! Nature and its inhabitants can have that effect on you, to be intrigued, inspired, and humbled at the same time.
My train of thought was suddenly jolted back to reality like when the A train violently comes to a sudden stop upon arrival at the 59th Street station on the New York City subway. Those train drivers are not much for easing into things, maybe no one ever told them about foreplay. I always love watching the tourists who are unfamiliar stand haphazardly not thinking to hold a pole or brace themselves for the violent jolt. There’s a look of horror in their eyes initially and then it subsides when they adjust and realize they won’t actually fall on their face. Don’t judge me, I usually chuckle, even you would find it a bit funny.
Alas I digress, because this wasn't NYC and here I was 7,000 miles away in a Masai Village in Kenya. “You look like a Maasai warrior! Maybe you can get these marks like me” What are these marks for? I asked…” it’s for all my wives and 47 girlfriends” he replied. I laughed and said, “I guess I have to catch up”.
Body markings and modifications are a very common part of Maasai culture. The Maasai man I had met had those markings to signify his bravery and hunting abilities. He was one of the 5 Maasai warriors I was introduced to, all of whom kept calling me “warrior”, in kinship like I was part of them. This embrace was probably encouraged by the fact that I was wearing a sleeveless ankara vest with my arms out .
It would seem that my fashion sense had unintended but welcome consequences because I was given a stick and walked with them through the village, most of my time there. Speaking of attire, their colorful red robe called a “shuka” was quite unique and instantly a sight to behold. I was told that the red is meant to ward off lions and other predators because they can spot it from far away. I mentioned my Yoruba heritage and that we were also a colorful and prideful warrior tribe as well. It felt for a brief second like a genuine cultural exchange, but I also understood the commercial expectations of my visit and did my best to support the local wears and creations by the village women. It was also intriguing to learn that the Maasai village houses were built with cow dung covering on a bamboo structure and bifurcated into sections for each room in the hut.
Overall, my trip to the Maasai village was a refreshing experience. I am currently on a journey that is as much internal as much as it is external. There’s a lot going on within and my lack of creative output in an artistic sense this year has been stifled by other aspects of my entrepreneurship, curating immersive events and a thousand other things I always have going on. There’s an imbalance and my art is fighting to get out. Releasing Omi at the tail end of last year with a message about flowing like water is one I believe many who loved the song have heeded, but not me its creator. There’s also something else within me trying to get out that feels new, almost like a flower blooming or perhaps a plant sprouting.
I also realize that I keep a lot of my experiences bottled up in mind and memory that pictures on my Instagram illustrate but would be more aligned with literal context. I need to write more to write more if that makes any sense. This catharsis is necessary. I sometimes hide my vulnerability in many layers with glimpses appearing in sneaks like a child peaking from a window behind the curtains, so you see a little but perhaps never enough. Writing here is my Sankofa, essentially to find my way back but also to push forward. Hence, I will do my best to let you in ways I have never done before. To go closer to the edge with less care about presentation and curation. To bridge the local with the global, the lyrical with the literal, and the visuals with the vibes. I have always been a storyteller and be it in performance, poetry, or prose, words are the vessel that carry my stories. This feels like an authentic way to start and so I say “Karibu” as a welcome to my current voyage of reflection and reconnection with my artistry and ultimately myself. I can’t tell you what to expect nor can I expect what I will tell you. Welcome to Motion Mondays.
You are receiving this email because at some point in the recent or distant past, you have seen me perform & supported my artistic career. Thanks for joining me and I can’t wait to share all of what is to come. Do drop a comment, I want to hear from you! Let’s continue to MOTION together and follow me on instgram for more voices, visuals & vibes on my voyage.