Saturday, July 1, 2017

The day started out like any other, with the exception that everyone slept through the night.  The drive back from the Mara took it’s toll and we were obviously exhausted.  It also caused us to change our plans around.  We had originally planned a drive to Maseno to visit the clinic and meet with friends, but our minds were not ready for another 4 hours in the car so we decided to visit Isaac’s parents instead.  It was a good decision.  We left shortly after breakfast on the 45 minute drive to Kisiriri.  Unlike the lowlands of Masai Mara, the highlands of Kisiriri are plush with green produce and wheat fields.  Looking out the window you wouldn’t know that you were in Kenya… it’s could have been landscape from any farming community in the US.  The occasional donkey or roadside fruit stand reminded us otherwise; that, along with the children playing along the road. 

We arrived at the house and were immediately greeted by Isaac’s father.  He gave us a wide smile as we entered the compound and I hopped out and gave him a big hug. “Sopa!” I exclaimed (“Hello” in Ma’a).  I smiled and hugged me back.  His 80 year od frame was so thin that I could have wrapped my arms around him twice.  His long gray hair was just as full as I remember and he had begun to show rounding shoulders.  The others hopped out and greeted him with Isaac translating.  I would pick up words here and there, but he (much like grandparents in the us) would speak in three different languages at once.  Ma’a, Kiswahili and Kikuyu were running off his tongue so fast that even Isaac had trouble deciphering.

We stepped inside their very humble home and we surprised them with umbrellas.  The last time we were there it was raining as we toured the grounds, and I noticed that their umbrellas could stand to be refreshed.  They smiled and laughed with glee as they opened them… again, Isaac translated.  Although I know they have superstitions here, opening an umbrella inside is not among the list.  They then treated us to mashed potatoes, goat and chipati, all of which were wonderful.  The ladies have come accustomed to “no thank you” portions of goat and are comfortable enough to decline completely if so inclined.   Afterward, it was time for a tour.  Isaac’s father takes great pride in his accomplishments, as well he should.  This land was all forest before he arrived and he cleared it all by hand in the 50’s.  Now he grows all kinds of fruits and vegetables and pointed out some of the more unique aspects of the farm.  What looked like weeds were actually used to make insect repellent and smelled like a more robust lemon grass.  The next “weed” we saw was used to treat stomachaches.  The tree next to us is cut and it’s fibers are used to tie off umbilical chords after child birth.  Certain trees were used for timber, while others were used to make whips (Tatiana and Caleb smiled as Isaac gave a demonstration).  It’s like an outdoor Wal-mart!  Isaac’s father had no problem navigating through the fields, up and down some pretty steep terrain.  He never slowed and never seemed short of breath as he lead the group; picking up various nieces and nephews (and even a stray neighbor) along the way.  

Isaac, me and David

Several of his sons still have homes here and I was happy to see Isaac’s older brother David as we made our way back.  We had stopped at his home to use their long drop and ended up staying for tea.  It was served outside the main home where most of the female cousins had gathered to discuss their faith – sort of  a Kenyan Bible study.  I stepped inside briefly to say, “jambo,” and true to form they all grinned when I spoke a little Kiswahili.   Usually, people are surprised that I speak the language at all.  They do, however, seem glad to know that I’ve took the time to learn it.  Anywho, Andrea and I sat with Isaac in his sister-in-laws kitchen.  It was a mud and wood structure with a dirt floor, one window and one door.  The room was filled with smoke from the wood fire burning under the window – that’s the only reason Karen didn’t come inside… the smoke was pretty thick, and although she opened the door, it did little to help the smoke dissipate.  Above the fire sat a grate and atop the grate was a large pot of milk.  It’s customary to be offered something in every home you visit, and this one was no exception.  Chai is usually preferred because there’s always hot milk available in a Kenyan home, and it’s usually the shortest visit.  If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t accomplish anything – we’d be too busy drinking tea.

Karen with Tatiana & Caleb

David came home while we were there, and smiled wide as he came to say hello.   We brought a utility multi-use tool for each of Isaac’s brothers, but David has been the only one to receive it in person – the others have been working while we were around.  The one I gave his father the year before was well received and Isaac told me his brothers were very interested in it.

Caleb, Baba, Isaac, Andrea, Karen,
Tatiana, Me, Mama and Leia

We said our goodbyes through our translator Isaac and took some photographs of the group.  The timer on my camera has come in very handy for moments like this.  The ride back home was full of laughter and joking and the sunset was beautiful as we drove past the wheat fields.  Our plan was for Karen to spend the night with Tatiana at Isaac’s house, but when we got home she realized that she had homework to do.  Ann, on the other hand, was still very tired and the thought of eating at 9:30pm was not helping.  We had arrived home much later than we had planned and restaurant food prep time here is less than favorable.  We often call an hour ahead of our arrival and still manage to wait up to 45 minutes.  The restaurants in malls are usually much faster and closer to what we’re used to back home.  Tipping here is also unusual; it’s more common around visitors but the locals just think it’s odd.

I had to call Isaac to let him know that they wouldn’t be joining us for dinner.  He understood and came to pick me up.  The restaurant was right down the road – probably 200 yards away.  It was set back off the road and I wouldn’t have known it was there except for a small sign that said, “Members Club.”  It’s a restaurant owned by the government.  It was rather non-descript on the outside, broken up into 5 areas consisting of 3 private dining areas that accommodated about 8 people, a bar room (including pool table) and a larger dining area with many tables.  We left the car and headed to one of the smaller rooms where Leia sat with Caleb and Tatiana.  Tati was clearly tired and looked like she was more asleep than awake.  Caleb was good, but he was starting to fade.  The food came another 45 minutes later.  I made the mistake of ordering a Tusker when we sat down.  Thankfully the food arrived just as the Tusker was taking effect.  Chicken, roasted potatoes and skumawiki (stewed kale).  The roasted potatoes were my absolute favorite meal.  We got some barbecued goat for the ride out to his parents that would have beat it in a contest, but the potatoes were wonderful.  They were the equivalent of small white potatoes that were pan fried.  You’d break them open to cool off.  The outside were crispy and they were pretty much really fat French fries.  I must have eaten 6 of them.  Once again, I slept like a baby.

Friday, June 30, 2017

Waking up at 4am was terrible.  The balloon ride was awesome!  We woke up early (thank you captain obvious) and as we walked to the land rover, we heard noise coming from the forest and our driver, Steven, jumped backward.  The Masai walking with us did not.  They are like firemen, they ran toward the 5 ton elephant that came through the trees.  Two others stood guard next to Andrea and Karen.  The elephant was about 40 feet away… I didn’t stick around to measure.  The warriors “pushed” the elephant back and told us it was okay to drive on.  We did.

Did I mention that the balloon ride was awesome?  Well, it was.  I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.  Our pilot was French and joked with us the entire time.  When I say “us,” I mean the 15 people in the basket.  Yes, it was a big basket with 4 compartments each able to hold 4 people comfortably.  We started with the basket on it’s side.  We climbed in and sat down as if we were in a rocket ship about to take off.  A generator then blew hot air into the balloon until it rose into the sky.  Eventually, our heads rose from the grass and we were in a seated position waiting to ascend, and ascend we did.  We never went as high as I thought.  I don’t think we were ever more than 60’ off the ground.  It gave us a great opportunity to see the migration.  We saw a small fraction of the 1.5 million wildebeest and 500,000 zebra.  The zebra would quietly munch on the high grass while the more numerous wildebeest grunted and mumbled.  As the propane was opened and the flame burst high, the sound caused them all to scatter.  I imagine their not used to noises coming from above them.  If there are noises coming from above, they’re probably vultures, and by then it’s too late to be worried.  When we landed, we got back into the vehicles that brought us in the morning.  They then took us to breakfast - a feast set up in the middle of the Mara.  It was breathtaking, and gave us a chance to chat with our fellow riders.  After breakfast, we were then shuttled over to Isaac who was waiting patiently in his Land Rover.

 

     

 
Isaac is a wonderful guide.  We laughed and joked as we drove throughout the reserve.  We took some great pictures of the animals we saw.    We stopped and had lunch under a shade tree.  I packed a couple of bottles of my favorite hometown beers from Fairport Brewing; a Peter J  IPA and Raider Red Ale.  Isaac had them refrigerated the night before and brought them in a cooler for this special occasion.  the next time I have one of these, I'll be back in Fairport at the brewpub with my friends John and Jim, telling stories and laughing at ourselves.  We finished and returned to searching for animals.  We saw the wildebeest crossing the Mara River into Tanzania, and although crocodiles were close, nobody got snatched.  As Isaac was telling us how wildebeest are dumb animals, they were kind enough to show us how dumb.  They crossed the river in a long line and climbed the bank on the opposite side.  The animal leading the charge made a right turn and looped a round a patch of land and rand down the same embankment they just ran up.  The turnaround was so quick that he was passing his friends traveling in the other direction.  Apparently they're like lemmings.  Ultimately, the majority of them ended up right where they started.  We watched a croc slowly meander through the water toward the crossing animals.  Although the zebras also migrate, they didn't join in this crossing.  When asked why, Isaac simply said, "They ah smaht." True dat.  Before long, we were taking pictures of Karen driving the Land Cruiser.  The girl never drove a stick before but she can now; provided the driver seat’s on the right side, the gears are left handed, and your on a dirt road with nobody near you.  I think we’re all safe.  It was a great experience.

At the end of the day we returned to the Maternity Center where the Masai wanted to have a meeting with us.  Construction continued after we left the day before, and they were already to the lintel.  We took some pictures as we walked behind the clinic to the meeting place.  We rounded the corner and Andrea gasped. “Beautiful!” she exclaimed.   The small courtyard held chairs and benches to accommodate everyone.  The majority of those in attendance were sitting on the benches already, and they were all Masai women dressed in their typically ornate fashion.  Andrea was right, they were beautiful.  The tribal elder arrived, followed by the area chief.  The men were outnumbered, but that’s okay.  This is about the ladies, after all. 

Opening remarks were made by the chief, then Isaac spoke.  The chief translated everything to English for us.  Next was my turn.  Although I had a similar meeting last year, there were many new faces in attendance so I started with the same story I told last year.  The men her have absolutely nothing to do with childbirth.  Nothing.  They aren’t around until the baby is born (and cleaned up).  They cringe and shake their head’s in disagreement when we talk about our participation in the states.  Here’s the Reader’s Digest version of what I said.  “I was in the room for the deliver, but I also cut the chord.”  I’m not sure who was repulsed more, the men or the women.  Many put their head in their hands and laughed. Others stayed transfixed on my words.  “Maybe one day,” I said.  The men shook their heads violently, and the women laughed.   I went on to explain that we were just the faces of 1000s of people back in the US that support our endeavors.  They cheered as the chief translated English to Ma’a.  I closed by saying, “We will be back.”  The village elder spoke next.  He, much like the chief and Isaac thanked us profusely for the help.  Andrea, although initially declining the opportunity to speak, changed her mind and stood before the group.  She’s not comfortable in that kind of a setting. She thanked everyone for the warm welcome and the kindness they all showed us.  She did great.

Next came the women’s turn to speak.  The leader of the group was named Mama Helen.  Our eyes met earlier and she smiled to say she remembered me.  My eyes replied in the same fashion and we both laughed and clapped our hands together.  She spoke eloquently, again thanking us for the help.  Suprisingly, her comments included saying that, “one day, maybe men will join us in delivery.”  The men were not so quick to shake their heads this time.  They just stood quietly.  Andrea, Karen and I cheered.  Before she concluded, she called me up to present me with a Masai Club.  This was a huge honor, but it was about to get better.  Andrea and Karen were then asked to come forward, and they were presented with Masai necklaces.  I actually watch two women make them behind the benches as the meeting was going on.  She then gave us Masai names.  I am now to be called Lemaiyan (meaning blessed).  Karen is Namunyak (meaning “humble” and “last born”).  They’ve been going through a long drought, and it rained when we arrived.  As the meeting continued, the rain clouds were gathering again.  The name they gave Andrea was Nalotuasha (meaning “bringer of the rain”).  At 9pm we would learn that Nalotuasha has yet to have complete control over her powers, but we’ll get to that later.  Everyone cheered and clapped before the chief made some closing remarks.  Hugs, smiles and pictures ended the meeting.  We jumped back into the vehicle and headed back to the camp.  Again, we lost sight of the animals and talked only about the meeting with joy and love in our hearts.

It was getting late so we rapidly packed our bags and loaded back into the van for the ride home.  Of course we had to stop en route so Karen and Isaac could clown around.   She makes us all laugh, and this was no exception. We took a different route through the conservancy which was much less bumpy.  Animals flit about as we drove to the main road.  The first 20 miles was a constant rumble strip with Isaac weaving back and forth finding the shortest moguls possible.  Then came the rain.  Oh, Nalotuasha.  The rain didn’t care that it was dark.  It came down in buckets and as we came upon the marram road, it was like driving through pudding.  Pudding that was 12” deep.  We weren’t driving a 4x4, but we wished we were.  There wasn’t much traffic, but those that were on the road slipped and slid past us as we travelled UP the hill.  We got stuck many times.  Many is more than several, and I’ve got the mud on my boots to prove it.  It was the equivalent of driving in a foot of snow.  The amazing this was that not one car passed us without stopping and helping us get unstuck.  I was outside with perfect strangers intermittently throughout the next 3 hours as we tried to reach the asphalt road that never seemed to get closer.  Karen and Andrea remained silent the entire time.  Sometimes it’s best not to say anything.  I know that it was scary for them.  I was to dumb to realize it should have been scary for me.  At one point, I walked past Isaac to see how far we could get on the new road being constructed before we had to return to the muck.  I went ahead about 100 yards before turning around.  When we got into the car, Andrea said, “Are there any animals out here?”  “Oh, shoo-ah.  They have lions hee-ya.”  I told him that would have been good to know earlier.  It was the first time I heard laughter in a long while.  Ultimately, the normal 2 hour ride took us 6.  We were back in Narok at 1am.  I showered the mud out of my hair and ears and face etc., and threw away my pants and shirt.  The mud was splattered all over me from the spinning tires.  My shoes were a total loss; so were the socks that were inside them.  I slept like a baby.  We all did.  When we woke up for breakfast the next morning, you could clearly see every step I took the night before.  Instead of dropping bread crumbs I tracked mud through the entrance, down the hall, up the stairs, and down the hall again.  The housekeeper got a great tip.  No worries.

Thursday, June 29, 2017

Today was going to be a busy day.  We had a quick omelet for breakfast and headed for the Sekenani Gate at Masai Mara.  The Sekenani Gate is the entry point into Masai Mara Game Reserve and the Maternity Center is just outside the gate – which means it’s not inside the park.  There are some problems inherent with that, but we’ll be addressing them, too.  Being outside the gate means that those women transported by a vehicle inside the park have to pass through the security check to exit the park; often wasting precious time.  There is, however, a small entrance that you can walk through; not big enough for a vehicle.  Our plan is to close of the current gate and expand the walking gate to accommodate an ambulance.  No, they don’t have an ambulance, either, but we can all dream.  In actuality, we have a friend working on raising funds for an ambulance.  I’ll let you know when it’s up and running… if you’d like to help.  In the meantime, please continue to pray – everyone appreciates it immensely.

The center construction is moving along nicely.  They were 5-6 courses high when we arrived.  While we were excited to see how far along they are, we were only really able to mix cement.  There are no masons in our family, so we’re relegated to simply being a fundi (laborer).  That get’s old fast, so went into the Medical clinic that’s next door for a tour.  Moving the small very small ridiculously small maternity room inside the clinic is still small.  It’s actually broken into two rooms; a labor room and a delivery room.  Neither looks comfortable, neither is inviting, neither accommodates much more than the patient.  One of the other positive outcomes of creating a stand-alone maternity center is that it frees up even more room for the clinic.  Once the equipment is moved to the maternity, it opens up two additional examination rooms for general health issues. 

After the tour, we went inside the park and checked into Entumoto – the camp that Isaac manages.  We were greeted by the stIt was uncharacteristically quiet, hosting two guests from Australia and now the three of us.  We walked up the long path to the tent, passing by water buck (kind of like a big, furry deer) grazing in the valley below.  Entumoto is a designated conservancy inside the park.  That pretty much means that they’re their own park, inside the park.  We’re staying in a family tent which has two rooms separated by a sitting room.  Again, don’t think tent.  Think, TENT.  We dropped our bags and returned to the dining room for a wonderful lunch that consisted of vegetable pizza, apple and carrot salad, and a quiche-like thingie that was fabulous.  Even more fabulous was the mango mouse that ended the meal.  It was served in a champagne flute with an angled layer of strawberry jello, and topped off with some whipped cream.  Not the typical fare when we’re anywhere in Kenya except in Masai Mara.

We jumped back into the van and headed for a Masai Rescue Center.  This is not for the faint of heart.  Palygomy is common among the Masai, and although it is unlawful to marry anone under the age of 18, it happens.  You’ll hear how frequently in a moment.  Wives produce children, who are able to tend to the father as well as the livestock.  When wife #1 gets too old, enter wife #2… and so it goes.  Once married, the woman, or girl, would potentially be circumcised.  I wasn’t aware that there were varying degrees of female circumcision, but there.  Sometimes, it’s a complete circumcision.  I’ll let you Google that.  Regardless of the degree, it’s all mutilation… and it is also against the law, but it happens.

Enter the shelter.  Started by a woman from Washington state, this facility is sanctuary.  A tall stone fence accented with an electric fence surrounds the 5 acre plot.  Girls are brought by their relatives or friends to save them.  Sometimes they walk their by themselves.  Either way, the older Masai don’t like it, and try to take the girls back.  An electric fence is an excellent deterrant.  James is the current caretaker.  He told us stories about his going into places to rescue girls himself.  Several years ago, he had heard of a 6 year old girl that got married away.  He went to retrieve her, and when the husband learned what happened, he came to take her back.  I’m happy to say that she is now 10 and happy with a bright future.  There is a school right next to this facility.  There is a fenced walkway connected to the school to further ensure the girl’s safety.  We’re standing in this place, and it’s completely unthinkable.  It’s impossible to wrap your head around some of these atrocious scenarios, yet here we are.  Standing inside the compound is surreal.  It is bright and warm and filled with caring and laughter.  There is no sense of the horrors that lie outside the high stone walls.

 It currently houses 63 girls, each of whom either were married, or were about to be.  The average age was between 10 and 12.  That’s not a typo.  The average age was between 10 and 12.  You’re not a wife at that age, you’re an indentured servant.  These girls all look after each other.  There is a comraderie among these girls that is palpable.  The older ones who have been here for a while know what the younger ones are going through.  They know how they feel.  They are a constant reassurance of the safety of this place.

When we first arrived, a smiling little girl came closer, shook our hands and said hello.  She shyly receded back to the building she emerged from earlier, but by the time she turned around she was joined by 3 more friends.  They were among the group of 35 girls we met with as we handed out school supplies, soccer balls, jump ropes and sandals.  We also had plenty of underwear to go with the pillowcase dresses that were either donated by our friend Dansville Dianne, or made by Andrea and her friend Diane prior to our departure.  We have an army of women ready to make more for us to take over when the maternity is finished.  You see, when these girls arrive here, they have nothing but the clothes on their back.   The Rescue Center survives on donations.  Funds are used to provide food, clothing, shelter, schooling etc.  It’s simply amazing.  James is assisted by Ruth who helps to teach the children things they would learn in Home and Careers in the USA.  Sewing and cooking are top of the list, and to help those efforts, we also brought a dozen sewing kits.

As we fit the girls with dresses, the rain began to fall.  Then it began to pour.  The sound of the rain hitting the tin roof sounded like dropping a box of marbles on a tile floor.  It was deafening.  We were shouting just to be able to hear each other.  It was the perfect time to present James and Ruth with umbrellas.  They both opened them and stood as though they were Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds.  The part that made me smile the most was not their joy in receiving the gifts.  Althgouh they were certainly grateful, it was the children that impressed me the most.  They cheered with happiness to see that their caretakers were happy.  

Again, palpable.  As we were celebrating and playing, a young girl appeared in the doorway, soaking wet.  Sanctuary.

The older girls quickly whisked her away to their room where they cleaned her up and fit her with dry clothes before bringing her back outside where everyone embraced her.  Literally, they gave her hugs.  It was beautiful.  This place is beautiful.  Agnes was 12 – same as the  number of miles she walked to get here.  She left her “fiancé” and her relatives, and at the end of that walk she became the 64^th sister of this marvelous family.

We watched them baking bread and gave them a chance to play with Karen's hair (always a hit, and Andrea got in on the action, too) before exiting the compound and heading back to Entumoto.  The rain had slowed and we wanted to take advantage of the break.  We talked about the girls for the entire ride.  Although the animals caught our eye, it was the girls that captured our hearts and minds.

Dinner that night consisted of tilapia with rice and snap peas, and desert was “fruit with luxurious candy.”  The "luxurious" part was a spun sugar design that rested atop the fruit.  It didn't matter what they called it, we all thought it was fabulous.
We’ve dicided take a hot air balloon ride tomorrow morning.  When I say, “tomorrow morning,” I mean we have to be ready to leave at 4:45am.  Yikes.  Now you understand why my blogs are so late.   We’ve always seen them flying and never taken one, so this will be a first.  I’m not terrified.  Yet.  If there’s another post, you know I made it back alive.