Suppa...and all things Masai

The Masai people of Kenya are an intriguing lot! Our stay in a Masai village was like stepping back into time...let me describe:

We enter the large gate into the family compound...the gate is made of sticks. On the right is the mud and stick hut (about 8' x 8') of the "First wife." Beside that is a stick enclosure where she keeps here goats. A little further along the path of packed cow dung is a second, slightly smaller hut. This is the kitchen of "second wife". Her name is Mama Moses and she comes out to great us. Suppa! She says with a large toothy grin. Mama Moses has a hole in here earlobes you could put your fist through. She is bedecked in beaded necklaces and wrist bands, and a filthy piece of cloth is wrapped around her body. Hanging around here neck (alongside the traditional Masai bead work) is a cellular phone. She shakes our hands, says Suppa again, and our translator explains that we are to say Ippa in response. I am given the Masai name of Nassieku, and for the next few days, that is how I am called. Next along the compound's interior is "third wife's hut - on the right, and then "fourth wife" is on the left. "Dad's" fifth wife died some time ago.

Dad is 72 years roughly. No one really knows since the Masai have only been counting for a decade or so. They used to keep track of their age by the number of rains. So all Dad knows is he is 400 rains. He lives in the tiniest mud hut. It is circular, has a dried grass roof, and a bed made of sticks which sits about 12" off the ground. It has a cow hide on it. Dad's earlobes are also large skin rings full of beads and buttons. On each arm he has 12 large burn marks....Masai body decoration. I will tell you more of Dad a little later.

We stayed in the house - not hut - of Moses. First born of second wife. He lives in the US and is the founder of ELAND, the project that works in this village to improve the education of the Masai people. Joel and I have a large bed to share. The outhouse is downright heavenly compared to the urinals for women in Ghana. It is a small tin building with a large hole in the ground....no issues there...just aim! Joel had some concerns about the over sized spider in the corner, but I was happy he was there for I was pretty sure it could gulp a fly in a single mouthful - and there were no flies in the outhouse!

Along with four wives were various sons, daughters and several grandchildren. The kids were barefoot and in the tornest, filthiest clothes I had ever seen. EXCEPT FOR A NICE SET OF CLOTHES AND SHOES FOR CHURCH, THESE WERE THE CHILDREN'S ONLY CLOTHES. Their clothes were not dirty because no one bothered to wash them...it is because water is so very scarce. I went with the young girls to fetch it on day two. We walked (I am NOT exaggerating) 2 kilometers to a large dugout which was full of the reddest, ugliest water I have ever seen. We filled our 20 litre containers - that weighed now a 1000 pounds or so it seems, and walked back to the village with the water on our backs - supported by a strap on our head. It was VERY hard work! And there were little girls 7 years old doing it every day! Yes...water is way too precious to waste on children's clothing.

The kids all go to school, wearing their shabby, but clean school uniforms.

While the older kids are at school, the 3-5 year olds take the goats out into the savanna to graze...herding them like pros...sitting all day in the scorching heat...seldom any shade.

The women also take their turn with the herds. The cows and the goats are the life blood of the Masai. They do not grow crops or keep chickens. They eat only a diet of goat's milk, goat and cow blood and meat. They buy cornmeal or rice in town. That's it. Goat intestine stew was a tasty meal we were served one night. While we were there we watched a calf be born, and a newborn goat die.

Yesterday we met with "Dad" in his hut. He laid in the dark room, and we sat on small stools with an interpreter. I asked him a thousand questions about his culture...about the times when he was a boy, about the coming of the Colonials. About how life is, and how he sees it changing. It was all very surreal...we laughed together as we compare notes. I asked about life with 5 wives. His eyes about bugged out of his head when I told him we marry who we want and our fathers do not decide. I explained that we marry for love...and he looked at me with the most curious eyes, and asked (thru the interpretor) what do you do when love goes away? I said we separate and he wondered what happens to the children...I explained shared parenting, and remarriage and step children...that led to more discussion, and soon, it was my culture that seemed barbaric.

We talked for hours...we laughed. He looked at me intently with his slightly glazed over eyes, and agreed that there were some good things about western culture and modern times. He particularly liked the idea of education - and sold most of his herd to send all of his children to school. School has only been free for the Masai for the past 5 years...so now everyone goes to school. Even 25 year old men are in school uniforms attending grades school. But Dad knows it will be education that ultimately may change the Masai life forever. Already his son David - our host - has made the decision to marry only one woman, and he does not have mangled earlobes. Dad also particularly likes cell phones...thinks it is a miracle that he can talk to his son Moses in the United States!

On day two we went to a house warming party at a neighbors house...only an hour walk thru the scorching heat (Joel got sooo sunburned he had to wear my very girly white safari hat!....he looked pretty corny standing next to the 2 Masai warriors who showed up). The Masai warriors were very scarry! Hair in spiked long brains forming horns on the head...beaded things everywhere...and when I tried to break a branch off the tree to clean my teeth after lunch, one of them pulled out a long machete from under his loin cloth and trimmed it for me....I kid you not...his shoes were made of old tire rubber. What was even more bazaar was seeing him - and all the other Masai...raising the hands in praise and singing to worship songs while a preacher played the synthesizer/keyboard set up under the tree...plugged into a generator. ±The Masai have no running water, no electricity, mud huts...they drink blood and wear machetes....yet there they are - I kid you not....jumping up and down singing western style praise tunes...and listening to a preacher who would have put Billy Graham to shame. Absolutely surreal!!

Joel will tell you more about our time with the Masai and we will attempt to upload some photos real soon. Love to all.

PS
Happy Birthday Dad!