Maape Ang! A bit about the Maasai Home

Maape Ang!

(Lets go home!)

When I think of a typical suburban American neighborhood, I think of things being spread out, far away from each other- you need a car. The towns in Kenya take this to another level. Ilnarooj is technically the town where I was staying, but Jonathan’s house was still about a forty minute walk from the few stores and huts that constituted the center of the village. A neighbor is anywhere from five to thirty, to ninety minutes away- walking through bush, trees, pastures, up and down hills, climbing rocks…

The amazing thing is though, as much as I know how to navigate the streets around my parent’s house back in California, or the subways here in New York, the Maasai know exactly where they are going, regardless of where the obvious road stops. 

Jonathan and David (Saoyo and Saitoti) on the main road

They walk at night without flashlights and can tell you where and where not to step. Kids as young as five years old guided me to their school almost an hour away, taking shortcuts through trees that all looked the same to me.

The walk to David's home

Inside Jonathan’s house there are three rooms separanted by thin plywood walls draped over with colorful sheets and shukas, posters and photos. One room is for guests and volunteers; another for himself, his wife Eunice and baby Moses. The main room is the living space. This is where we gathered to eat, drink shai, listen to the radio, "make beads" (aka do beading) , tell stories.

If anything, Jonathan’s house is quite modern. It has a cement floor, wood panel walls, a tin roof and clear room divisions with a separate hut for the kitchen.

Living room- Right to left: Peter, Eunice, Bertille with Baby Moses, Jonathan &me

 The traditional Maasai house is built with sticks and mud and a family will typically have two or three on their land- one with a bed and cooking space, the others left for bedrooms. The floor is the same dirt as outside. When cooking, dirty water, extra shai or any other useless liquids are poured straight on to the floor.

In these houses, families gather around the cooking fire and this is where time is spent together.

David and Emily's kitchen

Emily making Pankakes

Solomon cooking dinner

Jonathan’s house is just off the road (barely a road), surrounded by a stick fence. When my taxi arrived late at night, his wife Eunice and a volunteer, Bertille from France, came out to greet us. There was no light except from a small kerosene lamp and small flashlight Bertille brought along. At this point it was already past twelve, but we gathered around the living room table and I had my first Kenyan Shai- Kenyan tea with milk and sugar. Lots of sugar.

I was so tired I don’t remember much of the conversation during that first gathering. It probably had a lot to do with introductions and the kind of small talk you have with people who you don’t know but with whom you know you are going to be spending a considerable amount of time with. What I do remember was the ambiance. The feeling of being welcomed unconditionally into a home. 

Hanging around the house

Eunice making beads

Saitoti, me and Michelle

Nashipae! Supa! A Little Intro to My Not so Little Trip

Nashipae! Supa!

(Hello Nashipae)

Two days after my arrival I was given a Maasai name- Nashipae. David Saitoti suggested it, William (Jonathan’s uncle and elder in the community who would soon become my Maasai father) approved it, and for the rest of my time in Kenya I was Nashipae. The word Nashipae means joy or happiness, and as a name, someone who brings joy or happiness. I was honored.

In all honesty, I had arrived in Kenya without a very clear idea of what I was going to be doing on a day to day basis. I have had a fascination with different regions of Africa since I was about twelve. The primary school that I attended in Spain was run by Franciscan Nuns who had built an orphanage and birthing center in Kenya. Every year several of my teachers would go visit and they brought back photos, stories and local knick knacks that we would sell at fundraisers during Christmas time. I fell in love with books like “They Poured Fire on us From the Sky” by Benjamin Ajak, Benson Deng and Alephonsion Deng about the Lost Boys of Sudan, I tortured myself watching documentaries and footage from the Rwanda Genocide, I tried to find ways to boycott diamonds from the Sierra Leone diamond mines (this was one of my short lived attempts to be radical as an early teenager). I learnt how to make injera and other east African dishes and for a while tried learning the Egyptian alphabet.  All the while though, I felt like few, if any of my peers had any idea of what I was talking about when I brought up these topics. In both the schooling systems that I’ve gone through (Spanish and USA) I’ve always felt that African geography and history is widely neglected. I tried to compensate by educating myself as much as possible and this trip was the ultimate exercise.

I’d found Jonathan and his organization The Maasai Youth Outreach Organization (MAYOO) through a website called workaway, where people worldwide post jobs for volunteers. The main project I wanted to be involved with was the Safe House that Jonathan told me MAYOO was working with- A house for girls built as a refuge boarding school to escape arranged marriages, abuse, female genital mutilation and homelessness. Other volunteers had told me they worked in the local schools, visited local villages and had sponsored well digging, school uniform purchases and school fees.

After having spent a week in Maasailand, I felt like I wasn’t doing as much as I wanted. I taught English classes in the primary and secondary schools, I visited the safe house and met with the head teacher and matron, I had seen the water hole and the amount of families that walk to it every day for water. I was learning, yes and everyone seemed pleased with this. I was learning the Maasai language, how to cook, how to communicate with them but I felt like I wasn’t doing enough. The schools have good teachers. The girls were in a good home and supportive environment. What they really needed, need,  is sponsorship to keep these programs going.

Girls Safe House

Children from the local primary school
Photo by Amy Sall www.amysall.com

I decided to stick with what I know. I sat down with Jonathan and we began outlining a clearer mission statement and program plan for MAYOO. I’ve since been working on updating the website that they had to make their cause more accessible to western attention and plan to help MAYOO continue to grow and expand.

Much of my actual volunteer time has been spent in the last month since leaving Kenya but the time I spent there was crucial for helping me understand the tribe, lifestyle and the need within the community I had set out to help in the first place. Over the next few weeks I'll be finally posting entries that will show a bit of what I did, what I saw, what I learned in this brand new community in Maasailand, Kenya. 

Photo by Amy Sall www.amysall.com

Jonathan (Saoyo) and Peter on our way to Magadi

Goats make the weirdest noises- you have no idea. 

Oh, hello there!