Written Journal - October 8th Massai Mara- Kenya

Massaii Mara Warrior

At the first sight of the village and people your mind questions the wooden club on their belt, the stretched ear that holds a long beaded rope, the unsmiling stare focused in your direction, the simplicity of their housing, the traquility of their fortress, you question the Massai Mara people.

The Village

On a late afternoon, right before the sunsets and the night crawlers come out of the woodwork..I visit a Massai Mara village in hopes that my curiosity of the free and wild humanity is answered.

As I wonder through the mudd covered shelters, I do not find the residue of a hunt with skins and meat drying. I do not find the loud boastful sounds of a tribal ritual. I do not find the fearsome aggresion of warriors and I do not find myself filled with any type of fear.

As a teenage boy approaches, he speaks in English and invites me into his home. I accept graciously and I duck my head to enter as I leave the outside world behind. At first my eyes find it hard to adjust to the darkness but as the shadows within become objects, I see an old women, another boy and an old man at the door. They are all clad in their typical tribal wardrobe of red fabric, leather belt and beaded jewelry. They are quiet people with eyes just as curious as my own.

As a schooled teenager, he explains to me the contents of the abode...the goat quarters, the kitchen the guest room. I ask questions about the house structure and I come to find out that the walls are dried cow manure but to my surprise there is no smell inside or out of the complex. I ask about the bright tapestry clothing and learn that the colors are thought to protect them from wild animals who fear the brightness of their clothing. I ask about their family and the generations before and after and I learn that the Massai live over a hundred years of age. I question their diet and am surprised that they do not feast on the wild buffalo, elephants, deer, boars or various other animals of the wild, they meal consists of goat, blood and milk. I question the stretched ears and find sadness that generations of their tribal custom is being eliminated due to the progress of the modern age.

I feel honored to have been shown the tooth of a lion that was killed by the boy because the lion attacked on the tribes flock of goats, their livlihood. There is no arrogance has he shows me the symbol of strength, courage and manhood. What is apparent is his respect for the animal and people.

As I exit and continue my journey in this small village, I am warmth by the abundant smiles and well wishes. I allow the women to paint my face, I stop to talk to the children and I bow a respect to the elderly.

I have no fear of these quiet spoken, people of nature. On the contrary, I find that they should be the envy of most with their respect to the wild, their bright color clothing, their trade of beads and their abundant goodwill.

As I am escorted back to my tented, somewhat (okay, not at all) modernized village by a boy who's name translates as "peacemaker", I bid a respectful farewell as he continues his shephard journey with the cows.

May we all learn from the wealth of an era that still exists, from the wealth of the Massai Mara!

The Colors!