Day 7 I Meet the Maisai - The Warrior Tribe

We had a good buffet breakfast at the Fish Eagle Inn. I could learn to live having baked beans for breakfast. We drive to south to Narok. Narok is a town where many cultures meet. We stop for lunch and walk into town. After driving on bumpy, dusty roads for many hours, it feels good to be the pedestrian. Walking along the road is what most people in this country do. Wow, it's a little dangerous. Dust gathers inside my socks. I'm wearing the sarong I borrowed so I look appropriate. We want to buy corn flour, chai and sugar for the people we are visiting. We also buy chugas (red patterned cloth worn by the Maisai). Most of the chugas are plaid. Some black and red plaid, some blue and red, but all have red. Red is seen well from a distance and is the symbol of Maisai cultural unity. We meet Jonathan. His chuga is red and orange. I buy one just like his. Jonathan wears his chuga, leather shoes and a long machete is hung from his waist. He carries a stick and a cell phone. The cell phone seems out of place but I can see that he is used to using it. He sits next to me on the van. He walked 20 kilometers this morning to visit his wife in the hospital. She was ill with malaria and gave birth to a premature baby. The baby will be in an incubator for 6 weeks. Jonathan is a talkative and antsy guy. We leave Narok and head out to his boma (home). He comments on the road. "This is a government road," he says, "Look how straight it is. The government made such a straight road. Wah!!!" I don't really get what he is talking about until we leave that dusty road and head down the road to his boma. This road is the zig zaggiest road I have ever seen in my life. The road goes right around a bush then turns left around the next bush. We can't see more than 50 yards ahead because the road is always turning. We see a row of aloe vera plants. Each plant is about 3 or 4 feet high and several are in bloom. We ask and Jonathon explains that the aloe is a fence marking a property line. Jonathan tells us to greet his family by saying "Sopa!" When we arrive many people come out to greet us. Children present to us the top of their heads. We touch their heads and say "Sopa." We hear "Sopa" back at us. Jonathan takes us inside his house to meet his second wife. Here is her picture. Jonathan was just married yesterday. The second wife speaks English very well and is shy. The women make the houses. Each house lasts 8 to 10 years. We meet Jonathan's mother. Jonathon describes her as "very, very old." (She is 3 years younger than me). We ask her how many houses she has made. She says she has made 11 houses. The Maisai have been nomadic - always moving to better pastures for their cows and goats. That is slowly changing and property is being assigned to people. The houses are made out of woven sticks, mud and cow dung. This house has a cat to kill the snakes and mice. Baby goats stay inside at night. People cook over open flames inside the house. After 10 minutes or so my eyes adjust to the darkness and I can see more. We go back outside and play hand games with the children. The children all want attention. I feel little hands inside my pockets and trying to tug my rings off my fingers. Someone starts to unvelcro my watch so I take it off and put it in my pocket. An older woman comes over to me and gestures that she wants my sarong. I say no. She insists. She gestures that she'll trade for her green and white plaid skirt. I tell her I can't trade it because it is not mine. That is true. I borrowed this sarong for my trip. She won't take no for an answer. I have to walk away or keep arguing so I walk away. A couple of older girls come out to visit but they stay close at the edge of the group. They are adorned with special headdresses and cowrie shells dangle from their foreheads. We greet them with "Sopa" too. They giggle and go away. We have a choice of sleeping in a boma tonight or in a tent. I choose a tent. We have a latrine tent too. I stop drinking water about 4 p.m. There is no way I'm leaving my tent in the night to go to the latrine tent in the dark. There could be lions out here. I decide to use the latrine tent while the sun is still up. The opening faces into the bush. No one is out there. So why not leave the tent flap open? Because after I do that the cows and goats come home from grazing. How embarrassing. The baby goats get all frisky and happy because they hear their mothers coming home. One baby goat is so young it still has an umbilical cord. Some of the cows wear bells and I hear cowbells all night long. The herd had to walk 5 miles to find grass. Tomorrow Jonathan is taking his herd up the valley. They can't stay here anymore. The grass is so scarce that his cows are getting sick. The group is going to roast a goat for us. Do we want to watch? We do. I feel badly for the goat being dragged from the herd. We watch as the Maisai men suffocate the goat by kneeling on it's chest and plugging it's nose and mouth. The goat struggles. This is hard to watch. The goat is laying on a pile of leafy branches. They don't want any blood on the ground to attract lions or hyenas. The Maisai diet is mainly meat, blood and milk. They poke the goat in the eye to make sure it is dead. It is dead. The throat is opened and the aorta is exposed. A man opens the aorta with a knife and another man slurps up the blood for several minutes. This is hard to watch too but it's not as bad for me as watching the goat suffocate. He wipes his face with some leaves. We watch as the goat is skinned. Every bit of the goat is used. They make a bonfire and thread sections of meat onto sharpened branches. The ends of the branches are planted in the dirt and the branches are angled in toward the fire so the meat can cook. I pass on the goat . I may go back to eating meat someday but I'm not going to start with a goat. Camillio makes us delicious mashed potatoes, a vegetable stew, and boiled goat with fruit, tea, cookies and coffee. After dinner Jonathan talks to us about his culture and the stages of life. He asks me how old I am. He tells me I would be considered a senior elder - very respected. He talks about growing up. He talks about circumcision. I learn that the two girls wearing special head adornment with cowrie shells were recently circumcised. He can call it circumcised but most people would consider it to be female genital mutilation. I am appalled. I didn't know. These girls remain in the front of my mind for several days. He says things are changing, but it didn't change fast enough for these two girls. Hearing this is the darkest spot of my entire vacation. I know cultural traditions cannot just change suddenly. Change has to come from within and it has to come slowly, but I am ever so sad about this. The men offer to dance for us. They dance around the bonfire. The children hear and they come out to join the men. Everybody sings and dances. After a while we all go to bed. Two Maisai men guard our tents all night to keep us safe from any wild animals. This has been a very eventful day in Africa.