We are going to have an easy time of it for our last full day at the camp including a leisurely breakfast - a good thing since we are all pretty well done in and are contemplating our departure.
We cannot help but think what awaits us in the U.S. Water that is clean, plentiful and hot when you turn the tap one way and cold when you turn it the other. You can drink it. From the tap. Most any place in the country. The toilet will probably flush and you can find seat covers in many public toilets. More important, places you go are likely to HAVE a public toilet. Close by. If you are in a U.S. Park, you'll probably know where the toilets are and can plan accordingly. Your bathroom shower will likely provide full body coverage at more than a trickle and you needn't be concerned about the lack of water pressure unless you are washing clothes and showering simultaneously. I care more about these things as I get older.
Be Here Now. Mid-morning we set out for a local village, walking the last 20 minutes with Pere who looks out for the occasional animal that might find us interesting enough to investigate. David continues in the Land Rover and fails to tell us that our walk would be all uphill. He mistakenly might have thought that it didn't matter. So we arrive at the village a bit wilted and take in the scene that we have heretofore only seen from the road.
A young Masai woman invites us into her home that she's made from branches cemented with cow dung. We duck down to enter and must go ahead by feel since the interior is dark save for a very small window atop the fire pit area. We sit down carefully on what turns out to be beds separated by a small common area where the cooking is done. We see this after our eyes adjust to the near darkness. The man sleeps on one bed and the woman and children in the other. There are two small pens near the door that house the baby goats and calves when needed. We find out that the woman is married to an employee at our camp and that she has been to school long enough to learn quite a bit of English. Later, when we come back from out walk around the village, the men demonstrate how to start a fire without matches (which they do very quickly) and the women invite us to the little market they have created on the ground to display their beadwork and other hand-made items. It is fun to pick things out but not to bargain. I wisely turn all my goods over to David and ask him to do his best to arrive at a fair price for both the buyers and the sellers. We appreciate the honor of being invited to the village.
Lunch at the camp. We are being so civilized today! We go to David's son's boarding school this afternoon and as luck would have it, it's Parents's Day so everyone is festive and enjoying their family visit after not having been together for three months. The head of the school takes us on a tour which is quite sobering for us Westerners. We see the boys' dorm which is in disarray and in need of repair. Many of the mattresses are thin with the ticking coming out of the sides and very little bedding on the beds. The school kitchen takes some getting used to as does the description of what they eat for each meal. There are no overweight children because food is not plentiful. There is a school canteen at which the children eagerly assemble, spending the money from their parents on sweet treats. All the families bring food for a picnic and the children take delight in stuffing themselves. The girl' s' dormitory is fairly new and nicely kept. Girls are neat, boys not so much. There are plans to build a new dormitory for the boys. Good news.
We meet David's wife and their young daughter who is still at home. When she is old enough, she will join her brother at this school. The oldest son is at a high school closer to David's home. The school we visit has high marks in academic achievement so enrollment there helps to insure admission to better high schools and the university. Considering that David started life in a Masai Village, having three kids in private schools on academic tracks is pretty amazing.
No comments:
Post a Comment