Walk down the winding path to the mess at Kisima Ngeda Camp, with a natural spring on one side and a great rock outcrop on the other, and you eventually emerge to a view across Lake Eyasi towards the Alipi Escarpment. There are places where the past feels particularly close. This is one of them.
The Eyasi Basin has long been a meeting place of cultures. Despite the modern world pressing in around them, the Hadzabe hunter-gatherers and Datoga pastoralists continue traditions practised here for generations. When it came to refreshing the interiors of the mess tent, it therefore made little sense to bring in a story from somewhere else. There was already more than enough beneath our feet and around us.
The Schmeling family, on whose land Kisima Ngeda sits, are custodians of a remarkable collection of photographs of the Hadzabe taken by Ludwig and Margit Kohl-Larsen in the early 1930s. Almost a century later, their quality is extraordinary. A large collage now gives them a permanent place on the main wall of the mess, with further photographs displayed around the bar.
Elsewhere, the details come directly from the landscape and people of Eyasi. Fossils and stone tools found on the dry lake bed sit within a glass-topped artefact table, finished with brass inlays made by a local Datoga blacksmith. Brass-coil lampshades above the bar echo traditional Datoga necklaces. Paintings depict the desert rose used by Hadzabe hunters to make arrow poison, alongside the different arrowheads used in the hunt.
Even the path underfoot has a story. Its deep brick-coloured stone slabs were collected from the lakeshore and contain curious geometric, crystal-like patterns. Their origins only became clear when a visiting geologist spent a walk through camp staring intently at the ground. We thought he had lost something. Instead, we received an impromptu lesson in the geological history of seasonal alkaline lakes.
That same landscape has provided fossil stromatolites – ancient layered structures created by microscopic cyanobacteria – which are now quietly incorporated into the décor.
Against the natural Hyphaene ventricosa palm timber of the mess, earthy fabrics, considered lighting and small touches of brass pull these elements together without overwhelming them.
The intention was never simply to make the mess tent look different. It was to give the things that make this corner of Tanzania so fascinating a little more room to speak for themselves. And, perhaps, to give curious guests a reason to ask another question.
