My mom once told me that Africa gets in your blood. The people, the land, the smells, the beat of the sun--it all seeps into your blood and changes you forever. Of course I never believed her. It was not until I stepped off the plane onto the tarmac and saw the African sun rising in the east--twice the size of the sun I was used to--that I began to think she might be right. Day by day, first in Kenya, and then in Mozambique, I found Africa making a place for itself inside my heart. The overwhelming vastness of the Masai Mara, with its endless herds of Gnu and Zebra, its lumbering elephants and prowling felines, made me feel as small as a fire ant, and nearly as insgnificant. But the fire ants too have their place on the Mara.
The Masai themselves--tall, slender, proud, and dressed in checkered red were one of my favorite parts of Kenya. Cows are their livelyhood, and the tall Masai warriors can be seen on the plains--a bright spot of red--guarding their precious cows. One Masai warrior asked my mom how many cows she would ask in exchange for me (remind anyone of Jonny Lingo?) and she said at least 50. The Masai warrior laughed and said, "50? She is worth more than 50! More like 100, or 1,000!" Well, at least now I know my mom values me at only 50 cows--thanks mom.
It was the children that changed me the most. The children in the village of Piri Piri in Mozambique were full of life and laughter, despite their ragged clothes and bare feet. They were up every morning waiting to greet us, eager to hold our hands, touch our hair, and laugh as we struggled with the few phrases they had taught us in their native language. After we installed the first pump over the main well, and my dad began to pump up clear fresh water, the children jumped into the stream, cupping their hands to catch the life giving liqued. Their laughter as they played in thewater was the sweetest sound I had ever heard. I will never forget Africa becuase it became a part of me. My trip lasted three weeks, the memory will last forever.
5 comments:
Nonsense. You're worth at least 52 relatively healthy cows, maybe even 53 and a half cows. Tell your mom I'll throw in some chickens and a goat, see if that is an acceptable price for Mandy.
JAMBO! And welcome to the blogoshpere. . .
I loved your posts - I'm homesick now for all those places, especially Africa.
Love ya, Boo!
Very cool! You guys are amazing, I'm always impressed.
Awww, that makes me want to go back to Africa! (and London, and Mexico, etc.)
Speaking in my defense.....when I made the comment about the 50 cows, I WAS thinking about Johnny Lingo who paid the outrageous price of 10 cows for his wife! If 10 cows was considered the price for the best wife on the island, it would seem that 50 cows would be totally unheard of. I guess the Masai have just never seen Johnny Lingo.
Post a Comment