Back to Nairobi

Jambo! (I'm learning Swahili.)

I've struggeld for awhile trying to figure out how to encapsulate the awesome experience that this half of the trip has been, and how to give you a real taste of it without typing my fingers to the bone or reddening your eyes. So I will pick one piece of the journey and leave the rest for now. Suffice it to say we're back in the bustling city of Nairobi -- contrary to God knows what I was thinking beforehand, this is a huge modern city complete with skyscrapers, malls, and traffic jams. Except for being a very obvious minority here, I could be in any big city in America. But the farther away from the city you go, the more things change. The houses become poorer and cement block homes turn into corrugated tin huts the size of some people's walk-in closets, the fancy shops become roadside shacks, and many people appear beaten down by life. I have not visited the slums here, so imagine I'd see much more of a contrast right within the city, but the countryside is striking in its poverty.

But what has been most fascinating to me is the time we have spent with the Maasai people. I feel like I've taken a crash course in social anthropology. As we drove deeper into Maasai country on our way to Maasai Mara, the biggest game reserve in Kenya and directly north of the Serengeti, the Western dress of the people we were seeing began to slowly mix with the traditional dress of the Maasai herdsmen -- bright red plaid cloaks called shakas (?) worn over another bright red shift-type piece, almost a dress. I asked Kathleen (our tour guide) where the plaid came from -- Scottish missionaries! This color is worn by almost all men, as it scares away the wild animals. (Hence wearing khaki colors on safari, to NOT scare away the animals.) And wild animals are definitely an issue -- the school we visited in Hellen's village (pictured on my blog) had been running evening classes for the shepards, but had to stop them for awhile as the drought had brought the hungry elephants down to the vilage looking for water, and a hungry elephant is a nasty elephant, definitely known to kill people. And there is no electricity in any of these villages, so walking anywhere at night also has the dangers of attacks by the other nocturnal hunters -- leopards, lions, hyenas. The Maasai boys go through a long initiation ceremony to turn them into warriors (5 to 7 years living in the bush, among other pieces) and killing wild animals when necessary is part of their training. Therefore they always carry their spear with them. Hellen told us that it was hard to talk them into leaving their spear outside the classroom when they did come to the evening classes, so some would bring it in, but then it made it so difficult for them to try to hold a pencil and their spear at the same time!

Hellen has done an amazing job in her small village of Maji Moto (which means hot water -- a thermal spring is near to their village) (www.majimoto.org) and welcomed us very warmly. She has started a school mainly for girls, as in the Maasai culture, girls rarely receive an education, and have no rights. The fathers often marry them off at a very early age (between 8 and 12 is not unusual) since the girl's family gets paid a dowry in cows for their daughters. Cows are THE measure of wealth in the culture of pastoral peoples, and a girl is typically bought for 6 cows. She has absolutely no say in who she marries or whether she marries. Polygamy is very common among the Maasai (and still practiced by more modern people too -- our very sophisticated driver has two wives -- one in the country where his family comes from, and one in Nairobi where his business is based. We kidded him alot about Wife Number One and Wife Number Two. The wives (according to him) don't seem to mind the arrangement at all). As the young men build their herds, and can afford the dowry, they will buy more wives, as another measure of wealth is how many children you have. One man we met was one of 18 children by 4 different wives. Very often the men are much much older than the girls they buy, which is very hard for the girls. Then the men die, and the girl is now a widow, in Maasai culture unable to marry again.

Early marriage is technically against the law since 2001 --the legal age is now 18 -- but in practice it is still widespread. However, if a girl is very strong-willed she can sometimes run away and go to the authorities, who can take her to people like Hellen, who provide shelter and education for these girls. While we were there, a young girl was brought in who was an orphan, and her relatives instead of caring for her were going to marry her off to an older man who was HIV-positive, in order to get the cows. She ran away and with the help of her neighbors went to the authorities who brought her to Hellen. We decided as a group to sponsor her first year of education, at the total cost of $300.

The children at Hellen's school were so sweet -- right now she has two grades, and is adding one more class each year as the kids grow. We were lucky to be there on a Tuesday, as they wear their traditional clothes to school on Tues and Thurs, and wear their uniforms (EVERYONE wears uniforms in school in this country) the other days. Cute does not BEGIN to describe these kids! They sang for us and we took pictures like crazy -- the kids LOVED to see themselves in the camera monitors...

There is SO very very much more to tell, and I am out of time. I wish I could give you a better picture of this village as we met the warriors and elders who are supporting Hellen and her mission, and also sang and danced with the widows in the village Hellen has created for them when they are cast out by their families, as well as buying some of the jewelry and crafts they've made to support themselves. This is the village that Jamii Mojo in Portland supports, that I talked about in an earlier post. I hope to have access in Kampala once I get to Uganda -- leaving tomorrow! Another chapter begins very soon...

Tuanande baadaye! Kwaheri! (see you later! goodbye!)