The warriors of the African jungle

I felt like I had just put my head on my pillow when my alarm rudely awakened me at 5am this morning. Grabbing my headlamp I crawled out of my mosquito net, skimmed the ground for snakes, checked my shoes for scorpions and began the walk to the sink. The Kenyan jungle around me was still asleep – or I was just completely unaware of what lurked in the darkness… There was a faint smell of smoke in the air from the night askari’s (guard’s) fire and the constellations of the extremely bright night sky were still clear.
After quickly drinking a cup of Kenya brew tea (Kenya produces the most black tea of any country) we jumped in our invincible land rovers and drove deeper into Maasai land than I have ever gone. The road was so rough and bumpy that it felt like my organs were being scrambled and the car shuttered so loudly that I couldn’t even hear my own voice. The only information I was given was that all classes were canceled and that I was going to a ceremony that I would never forget.
Every ten to fifteen years hundreds of Maasai from Kenya and Tanzania congregate at one boma to celebrate the next generation of boys becoming warriors. The men paint their hair red with ochre and wear their best Maasai blankets and all the women dress in their finest cloth and completely cover themselves in their extremely colorful jewelry. The ceremony is filled with dancing, singing, jumping contests and the slaughtering of a bull. The bull is then roasted and cut into hundreds of tiny pieces for all the new warriors and the inner stomach is given to the women. As we approached the festival there were hundreds of teenage boys lined up outside the boma waiting to get their piece of meat to signify that they were finally warriors. Getting to this point in a Maasai’s life takes a great deal of effort and struggle. They have to go through a variety of trials, including getting circumcised to show that they are no longer boys and killing a male lion to show their bravery. The ceremony was extremely emotional for everyone involved and the air was filled with anxious energy the entire time I was there.
I walked around talking to people in broken Maa (the language of the Maasai) and little bits of Kiswahili as people curiously touched my hair and asked why I had blue eyes. I felt like everyone took a double look at me as if I were a ghost, although many people were extremely nice and made quite an effort to communicate with me. Many people couldn’t get enough of looking at themselves in my camera after I had taken pictures. I practiced my dancing with the Maasai women once again, this time feeling like I knew exactly how to move my shoulders and head, but still not ready to sing.
My professor was right in telling me that I would never forget seeing so many young warriors lined up across the savanna, right at the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro.

My Maasai Family

Every time I think I am experiencing the most exotic, astonishing cultural event I end up going to something that amazes me even more. Today I was able to do a homestay with a Maasai family in a nearby boma. There were four generations of women in the family and several 20 year old girls who took me in like a sister from the moment I arrived and showed me everything that a girl my age does on a daily basis. The husband of the oldest woman had 7 other wives and all the other women that were married tended to be one wife of many.
From the minute I walked into their house nobody could seem to stop smiling. One of the first things we did was crowd into the kitchen area (which consisted of a shelf and a fire pit with three rocks to hold up pots) and blew on coals to light a fire. The tiny room (with no ventilation) filled with smoke immediately and before I knew it there was a blazing fire at my feet. We balanced a pot on the three rocks and boiled water and milk with loose leaf tea. Through broken English, Kiswahilli, Maa, and pantomiming we had fabulous conversations about our daily lives, families, and futures.
After tea all the women prepared to collect firewood by strapping all the young children and babies to their backs with cloths. To make sure I didn’t feel left out they tied a baby on to my back and handed me a huge knife to chop branches. Considering how many thorns I usually acquired while walking through the bush I was extremely nervous that the sleeping baby was not going to be pleased being on my back. Nevertheless, we walked for about a kilometer and then set the babies down and collected thorny firewood from surrounding acacia trees. We stacked the firewood in neat piles and tied it together with rope we made from peeling strips off another plant. To carry it back we strapped the rope to our foreheads and lifted the load onto our backs. On the way back the women taught me Maasai songs which completely distracted me from my physical discomfort.
As soon as we got back to the house we started preparing lunch. When there is only one pot, one fire, and a dozen mouths to feed, meals become quite an ordeal. We took turns chopping white cabbage and stirring a pot of ugali (white corn meal). When the ugali was done we mixed the cabbage with “pure white fat” (as the container said…???) and a little bit of onion and put it over the fire. With so many people and a scorching fire in such a tiny room I was soaked with sweat the entire time, and I was completely covered in flies from head to toe. Nonetheless, considering that the white food group is my favorite, I was actually quite content with white cabbage and white corn meal for lunch.
The afternoons in Kenya can be dreadfully hot since being on the equator makes the sun incredibly intense. To get out of the sun we all sat in the dirt in the tiny bit of shade from the house, leaned on each other, and took a nap. I already felt so comfortable and close with all the women that I dozed off immediately as one of the girls stroked my hair with amusement. After resting for about an hour we got out beads and I learned how to make traditional Maasai jewelry - which gave me a new appreciation for the amount of work that is put in to what originally seemed like a simple bracelet.
When the afternoon cooled off we once again tied the babies to our backs and carried water jugs to a spring that was also about a kilometer away. After filling up all the containers I immediately offered to carry the biggest one, thinking I could impress all the women. I first strapped it on my back (without the baby), took two steps, and fell over. Embarrassed, I tried it again on my shoulder, and then on my head, and once more on my back. I blushed as I continued to fall over into the dirt. I eventually accepted defeat and took a smaller water jug. Holy cow do I have a new appreciation for my faucet.
I dreaded leaving these wonderful women and couldn’t thank them enough for teaching me so many things and putting up with my naivety of their daily activities. Doing such strenuous jobs with such content, cheerful women taught me more about being happy than anything else I have every experienced.

An African Dance Party

After sitting in class for six hours I was relieved when several Maasai interrupted our professor and promptly invited us to a wedding that was going on at a nearby boma (small village). Delighted at the idea, we dressed up as nicely as we could, and jogged after the Maasai through the thicket of the surrounding grasslands. As we approached the boma (covered in dirt and thorns) we encountered a 5 foot long puff adder that was about 8 inches wide. Several of the warriors had killed it a few hours earlier because it was too deadly of a snake to be left alive near a village.
We slowly walked into the boma, slightly embarrassed that we looked so… American, but thrilled at the idea that we were in a wedding in a part of Africa that no road had ever reached and no muzungu (white person) had ever gone to. About 50 men and women were gathered at the center of the boma and were all chanting and jumping. Not knowing what else to do I started to walk around the commotion trying to figure out what everyone was chanting around. After only a few steps a Maasai woman grabbed my hand, flashed a gigantic smile at me and began to pull me toward the center of the crowd. Surrounded by people I had no option but to begin jumping up and down, throwing my shoulders and head in towards the center of the group. Several people looked at me like I was absolutely crazy but eventually everyone started to give me tips about how I could move my head as I threw my shoulders forward and jumped. Before long I was in the center of the group and everyone was facing me as I jumped with several of the young women. I was completely surrounded by warriors and women in all of their incredible beaded jewelry. I have never felt a stronger energy within a group of people and no matter how different I looked it seemed that as long as I was dancing I was part of the powerful connection that surrounded me. After about an hour the group opened up a circle in the middle and the young warriors began to jump as high as they could. They had tall slender bodies and were dressed in red blankets. Their long braided hair was painted red and they carried a sword and several other tools on their belt. Everyone cheered them on as they jumped higher and higher until they were several feet off the ground. I later learned that the groom was one of our night askaris (guards) and was getting married again because his previous wife had just died. I congratulated the groom but was told that the bride is rarely seen at Maasai weddings because she is expected to stay in her home all day, preparing to move into a new life and a new home. The wedding apparently went late into the night because once you get a group of Maasai to start dancing, you can’t get them to stop.

137, 142, 155,156, 157 There are 157 elephants in sight!!!

One of the main reasons I came back to Kenya was to visit the famous national parks that provide habitat for thousands of incredible animals. There is nothing more exhilarating than sitting on top of a land rover, binoculars in hand, skimming the landscape for lions, elephants, buffalo, wildebeest, giraffe, zebras etc. as the wild blows in your face. No matter how many hours I spend observing animals it seems that the day dissolves into a red sunset too quickly and the animals disappear into darkness.
Every couple years the Kenya Wildlife Service conducts a census on all the Wildlife in the national parks to determine how animal populations have fluctuated. In two weeks we will be helping with the census in Amboseli National Park and doing a number of statistical calculations to determine what parts of the ecosystem have changed in the past several years. Human population increase in the area has caused a number of stress factors on this ecosystem including habitat fragmentation, decreased wetlands, more human-animal conflicts etc. To practice for the count we have been making trips to Amboseli and recording every animal we see - which seems like a simple task, but is actually quite tedious. We not only record the number of animals we see, but also the social organization, age structure, gender ratio, and our exact location with a GPS. Amboseli is predominantly known for its elephants and on the first day alone we counted over 150 elephants (along with hundreds of other animals) before we gave in to darkness. As we drove away from the park we closed up the sunroofs, put away our equipment, and sat down with a daze. Exhausted and covered with dust, we all started to drift off… when all of the sudden the driver slammed on the brakes and the car skidded across the dirt road. We all awoke with a start as a mother giraffe and her baby appeared out of the cloud of dust only a few feet in front of our car. The last light of the day made them look like a painting as they walked off into the acacia trees.

Embracing the Dust

Embrace the dust. It has become part my skin, engrained itself in my clothes, coated my contacts, permanently stained my socks, and gets stuck between my teeth. Sometimes I hold my eyes shut for a minute at a time to clear them out and when I open my eyes again I have to re-convince myself that I’m not dreaming. I continually say to myself “yes, I really am looking at a giraffe walk 10 feet in front of my car, and yes those are Maasai warriors are not just a picture in a book, and no that giant bull elephant is not in the movie Planet Earth, it is right in front of me!
I was slightly startled the other day when I looked up from analyzing elephant footprints and saw about 5 Maasai warriors looking at me curiously. It was only 8am and they had already been walking for several hours to get to the market to sell livestock and collect water. I later learned that every Tuesday people from all over walk miles and miles for market day in local town of Kimana. It continually amazes me that so many people can navigate the endless hills of the African savannah so easily when I can rarely figure out which way is north. Later that day we got back in our indestructible land rovers and drove into town to experience a typical rural Kenyan market. The market takes place inside a fenced in area has a myriad stalls (set up in the dirt) that sell a countless number of things. It was literally over flowing with people, but I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb as I aimlessly worked my way through the bustle. The vegetables for sale consisted of kale, onions, and tomatoes (these are the ingredients for the staple – sukuma wiki). There were also a variety of beans, an incredible amount of extremely colorful cloth, shoes made of tires, beat up kitchen items, disgusting looking meat and all kinds of livestock. Everywhere I went about 20 Maasai women followed me yelling at me in Swahilli and showing off jewelry they wanted to sell. Behind them were a swarm of kids yelling “muzungu!” (white person). After about an hour of walking around I felt as though the energy of the market had conquered my initial enthusiasm and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Why does Mt. Kilimanjaro hide behind clouds when I need it?
I have been in Kenya for just over one week now. In that short time I have become accustomed to having no expectations, no regrets, and to quickly learn from dangerous mistakes. Every minute of every day is another adventure and as I continue to embrace the dust, Africa is becoming more and more a part of me.

Happiness can be contagious

There is no use for my alarm clock here because countless large colorful birds never fail to make me fully alert at 5:50 am. The first thing we do every morning is track all the animals that came near to the spring the previous night. Just a half hour before we got there this morning a mama giraffe and her baby had come down to get a drink and then drifted back into the endless dusty red hills. We have found dung of every kind and can hardly keep up with the types of birds that fly by. Meanwhile, Mt. Kilimanjaro slowly lights up and looks more magnificent than ever through the clear, brisk air. After breakfast we usually start our daily classes. The Kenyan professors don’t treat us like tourists – they look at us as researchers with fresh ideas to help preserve this incredible place. A five-year research plan has been implemented by the professors, which includes aspects of wildlife policy, management, and ecology. We take intensive Kiswahili classes everyday so that we will eventually be able to have conversations with everyone in order to conduct research.
This afternoon we drove in our incredibly tough, worn-out, land rovers on dusty roads to a Maasai Boma (a village). Surrounding the Boma is a fence made of thorny shrubs to keep their cows in, and the lions out. Inside there are small huts made of cow dung and wood. A Maasai house is smaller than a small bedroom in the U.S. and sleeps up to 8 people. Amazingly enough there are still several bedrooms within this small area. Husbands and wives have different rooms and the kitchen (which consists of a small fire pit) is in the woman’s room. A Maasai Boma makes you feel as though everything you thought you ever needed in life is ridiculous and just makes things complicated. When we first got there the women sang us two beautiful songs while dancing. In return we took out an I-pod speaker and danced the Macarena. They were thrilled and started dancing with us immediately.
Happiness is contagious in Africa. Everyone has so little, but is so happy. Even when you want to feel sad or tired all you have to do is look at an African’s smile and your heart is lifted.

Karibuni Kenya

Jambo!
Mt. Kilimanjaro is right here - not over there in the distance – right here outside my mosquito net, rising above the elegant acacia trees, and higher than the clouds. They say that when you feel lost or alone in this desiccated land, all you have to do is look at Mt. Kilimanjaro and it will make your soul complete and answer all your questions.
This is Maasai land – a place where the circle of life is complete and each day is a struggle to survive. My banda (a small thatched roof hut) is inside a 25 acre area with a large fence as an attempt to keep the elephants and any other large animals out. Despite the fence, most of the animals find a way to break in so they can get into our kitchen and eat all of our lush pineapple and papaya. For some animals, including black mambas and baboons, the fence means absolutely nothing. One male baboon sits outside the kitchen pretending to pick at bark until everyone leaves. It then makes a run for the kitchen or a banda and steals everything it can. At sunset we go out to look for bush babies and marvel at their enormous round eyes and baby like figure (their name is very appropriate) as they clutch to the braches of trees. As darkness falls the stars of the Southern Hemisphere light up the sky and humongous spiders and beautiful geckos come out. When I shine my flashlight on the grass all I see are hundreds of spider eyes glowing in the dark.
There are about thirty Kenyans that work at the Kilimanjaro Bush Camp – many of which belong to the Maasai tribe. The Maasai warriors are as black as the night sky and extremely tall and thin. They carry spears and other weapons with them wherever they go and seem to not have a single fear. They wear beautiful beaded earrings and bracelets and dress in red blankets. There is also a wonderful kitchen staff that makes us incredible Kenyan food for every meal. I’m thrilled to be eating sukuma wiki (my favorite food) again and have decided to become vegan for the remainder of the trip. Our professors are extremely passionate about wildlife conservation and seem to be incredible knowledgeable about every animal, plant, tribe, ranch, etc. in the area.
While I’m here I will be working all day everyday to learn about and research the conservation issues that are being faced in the Maasai steppe I’m living on. How do you teach native people with very little education that this is one of the most unique places in the world and everyone needs to work to preserve its beauty. What will all life do when the icecaps on Mt. Kilimanjaro melt and there is no more water? How do you stop lions from eating the local people’s livestock so that they aren’t killed? How do you recover this intricate ecosystem when part of it is crushed?