Memories of My Muse: The Maasai

My name is Trupal Pandya, and I am a professional photographer based between Philadelphia and New York City. I document indigenous communities, explore their local practices and, through my pictures, show how people around the world live. I have worked with the Huaorani Community in the Amazon Rainforest, Headhunters, Brokpas, Aghoris, eunuchs, and shepherds in India, the Mundari community in south Sudan and the tribes of Omo Valley in Ethiopia. My travels have introduced me to a variety of people and situations. It is that thrill of showing the world what we don’t see every day that encouraged me to continue this journey and pursue a career as a documentary and portrait photographer.

There was not one person in this Maasai community that did not make me feel welcome. For the people I met here in the interior of Tanzania, their open hearts almost always translated to big, joyful smiles.

Although I rarely speak the same verbal language as the people I photograph, there is usually still an ability to communicate through smiles, to share goodwill and even recognize humor and delight in it together. This young man was like a human embodiment of that potential, like he carried a playful joke right near the surface so it felt we were always one breath away from sharing a good laugh together.

I think something that makes indigenous communities so powerful to work with is a sense of inner grounding and calm. Staying connected to untold generations of tradition elicits an almost palpable grace when pausing to be photographed. There is no artifice in posture or expression, and that is an incredibly powerful thing to witness and interact with.

The warmth of camaraderie is almost palpable among the Maasai men, one that I imagine is built upon shared traditions, and the respect that is earned through hard work and dedication to similar goals.

Cattle and family are the most important things to the Maasai and it is incredibly refreshing to be around people who live their values every day. When so much of the world is littered with extra “stuff” and so many people are absorbed by constant streams of entertainment or advertisements, it is a gift to be held by the kind, calm, purposeful energy of the Maasai. There is nothing in the camp that’s out of place, nothing that distracts or divides the attention away from caring for the livestock and each other.

One of the most important things to me is spontaneity because it clears the mind of expectation. It brings me exactly into the moment with whomever I meet as we learn about each other with each word, gesture and expression. The sharing of an unplanned meeting is such a sweet space for making images like this one, as we learned about each other’s lives and what was important to us. She showed me her house, I showed her my camera and the pictures on the digital display.

Sometimes the people I meet want to get involved in the image-making process, and it is such an enriching process for me. I always remember these moments with particular fondness because the “subject” / “photographer” roles are even further dissolved and it becomes even more of a shared creative endeavor.

The juxtaposition of traditional garb and modern objects (like phones and sunglasses) is such a rich concept to explore. It challenges me to rethink the timeline of tradition and see that it’s not about an old thing or a new thing, but rather an organic evolution of choices being made every day.

Bright stalls like this were common along the paths to popular tourist beaches in Zanzibar, with lots of handiwork and trinkets available for sale. The beadwork and artistry was still stunningly beautiful, even when arranged to fit the functions that tourists would find useful or appealing in the form of things like keychains or magnets.