Masai Village: Amboseli, Kenya

Skylar kicked her soccer ball with a Masai man, moments after arriving to our campsite in Amboseli National Park. Over the next few days, John (as he called himself), returned to visit us, teaching the girls Swahili and Masai words and telling us about his village. Perhaps he does this with all the foreign tent campers, but the invitation to his village felt authentic and personal. We had shipped school supplies and needed a recipient; his village had recently built a school. We had a match.
John roused the village from their afternoon siesta to greet our family with songs, the men holding down the rhythm section with their voices and bending from the waist. Jeff joined their chorus as the women invited us to join their dance. The Masai have a presence with their red robes, impressive height and noble bearing. Surrounded by these friendly strangers from such an ancient culture, we couldn't stop smiling and exchanging quizzical glances. A very young (approx. 27), English-speaking, Chief Ipetek, welcomed us to his village with a warm smile and kind eyes. He explained that we could take as many photos as we wanted and ask as many questions as we wanted. Jeff thanked him with a Masai "Ashe" and
Thorny acacia branches encircle the village, providing some protection from wild animals for the 180 residents. The inner courtyard holds additional acacia corrals to hold the cows, sheep and goats at night. Until they reach six months in age, the domesticated animals spend the night inside the Masai huts. Gender and age roles are clearly defined in this polygamous culture. Men carve wood, make fire, protect the village, govern and herd animals. Women do everything else including building the huts, cooking, caring for the children and beading. In fact, girls by the age of 12 can build the low, stick, dung and mud huts.
We stood in the gray/red dust of the courtyard under a lonely tree to see a demonstration of the vertical jump of the Masai men. They can jump straight up as high as their own heads. Holding John's walking staff, Jeff made a sporting attempt as well. Three men then taught us how to make fire without matches. Two took turns spinning a stick between their open palms. Lodged in a piece of flat wood, the friction created smoke and ash. A third man dumped the ash onto elephant dung and blew on the cinders, igniting a fire most efficiently.
Leaning against his grandmother's hut, John diplomatically answered our questions about polygamy. "A man must have enough cows to afford more than one wife; he must pay each wife's family 8-9 cows. It's not good to have the wives in the same house; that can be a problem so each wife must have her own house." We ducked low to enter the dark, cool hut. It's built low because the wind would topple a taller structure. Our eyes adjusted to the dim light, our minds settled on the idea that we were sitting in a real Masai mud hut. John gestured for us to sit on the edge of the stick and cow hide beds, "No mattresses he pointed out." Chief Ipetek joined us and talked about the Masai diet, only three things: meat, blood and milk from their domesticated animals.
The Masai creation myth explains that first God created the cow, then the Masai, then everything else. There never was a time without cows. They never eat wild game and only hunt the lion as a rite of passage to manhood. To us vegetarians, it was particularly surprising to hear that on a diet, void of veggies, the Masai live to be 90-100 years old. Of course, they walk everywhere and don't appear to own chairs, so they get a lot of exercise. "Masai men have gorgeous white teeth," we remarked to John. He explained that they brush several times a day with the shredded end of an acacia twig.
Outside again, we joined the school children gathered in the courtyard to give them school supplies. They sang in Masai then broke into the familiar Alphabet Song. Skylar stood head and shoulders above her Masai age-mates. No one could believe our children were nine and twelve, "They must eat well." This tribe had a meeting three years ago and decided education was more important than their nomadic lifestyle. So they built a school with the help of a Los Angeles Rotary Club and only the men wander with the animals seeking water and grass. The children and women remain in the village year round to attend school. Bic pens caused the biggest excitement as the ones available here are of inferior quality.
Finally, we visited the improvised marketplace where the Masai displayed their beadwork and wood carvings for us to purchase. Jeff, Maya and Chief Ipetek surveyed one aisle while Skylar, John and Michelle walked the other aisle. Despite our protests that our money supply was not endless, we were instructed to choose one item from each family's "booth" and we would bargain later. What a cornucopia of gorgeous items: carved animals, beaded bracelets, necklaces, baskets, wooden clubs and more. One man removed his ankle bracelet to sell it to us. Raindrops came to our rescue, but not soon enough. We'd accumulated 38 items which the men arranged on a blanket to inventory. The bargaining began at a shocking $550. After much back and forth and a bit of discomfort on our part, we put a few items back (making sure we kept the Chief's wooden hippo) and arrived at a fair price. What gracious and likeable people (though they do practice polygamy and female circumcision). What a memorable experience. It certainly gave us all a lot to think about.

Traveler's Note: Ink pens and digital watches can be used to barter for Masai trinkets. At the very least, the many schoolchildren asking travelers for pens and money will not leave empty handed.

For more photos of our family's visit to the Masai Village, click here.