We had an unusual opportunity. We would spend 11 days in northern Kenya, and go to some of the most remote areas on the planet. This wouldn’t be a tourist trip, but a chance to see some different cultures that rarely get observed.

We rented a game tracker, a huge truck that can go over anything, and is accustomed to the non-roads of Kenya. In addition to that truck, eight other cars joined us. We camped the whole time, and had four days without access to showers. We went seven days before we saw a car that was not one of ours.

DAY ONE:  We drove about seven hours to Mugie Ranch, which has lions, giraffes, and elephants. On the way, we stopped for a bathroom break. Except there was no bathroom. I walked about a half mile away from the trucks, and felt very very self-conscious. I realized that I had not squatted since I was a junior in high school, and my squatter is not what it once was.

Day TWO:  We went to Kurungu, about eight hours away. When we arrived, we were treated to a wonderful outside shower. You’ve never seen stars like you do in Kenya, and taking a shower after being on extremely dusty roads in an open air vehicle, looking up at the stars was an experience I will never forget.

DAY THREE:  We went into the village in the morning. These are people who live in mud huts, and they share their huts with the infant animals they have. Most of the children wore little clothing, if anything, and many of the woman wore no tops. Several thoughts came to mind:

• It was amazing how easily and rapidly you can get used to nudity. I went from being embarrassed to blase, in under 15 minutes.
• Without being crude, national women without support who do hard work all their lives could end America’s fixatation on the glands in about 15 minutes.
• Poverty is a relative term. You would call these people poor by America standards, but they live in beautiful surroundings in a close, caring community.

We were invited to see the Samburu warriors dance, and it is quite the production. We were asked if we might be interested in dancing, and I thought, “This is my big chance.” I actually got to dance with a large group of men for three dances, and I can assure you, my reputation for being the whitest person on the planet has not changed. From what I could tell, the dances consisted of jumping up and down and yelling. It would seem hard to mess that up, but judging from the rather loud gales of laughter, I managed to do it. We videoed it, which I am sure will embarrass me all the rest of my days.

DAY FOUR:  We went to the open-air church, and at the entrance to the church were dozens of walking sticks. These people are herdsmen, so they combine walking sticks with rungus, which is a hard wooden ball carved into the handle to be thrown at predators. Worship is always interesting in another language, but the sincerity and wonderful singing carried the day.

After church, we drove to Korr, which is about four hours away. We were getting good at setting up our tents, and JT and Matthew did it rapidly. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t close up their tents.

DAY FIVE:  Matthew woke up with at least 60 mosquitoes bites on his face, with as many on each arm. We were taking malaria medicine, and although we don’t think they were malaria-carrying bugs, we were glad we were being safe rather than sorry.

We went to see the Rendille tribe. They are known as being the Italians of Africa. They are very gregarious people, and I felt like I was running for office I shook so many hands. When I shook hands with the children, I would jump up and down, and it again amazed me that no matter what culture you are in, little kids like to giggle. These people live in the desert, and much of their liquid is cow blood. It was truly amazing to see how they could survive in such a brutal environment.

DAY SIX:  As much as I can appreciate the beauty of different cultures, I am impressed by how important reading is, and the power of illiteracy to keep a people down. The missionary group here is doing an amazing job of teaching adults how to read, and reading can really transform lives. With many of the adults, they had no schooling at all, so it is a daunting task, but to see the determination of the people trying to learn would encourage anyone to soldier on.

If you’ve never read, how do you know what the front of the book is? The cover of their books show the front of a person, and the back of the book shows the back of a person.

DAY SEVEN:  We headed for Kalacha, which is on the edge of the Chalbi Desert. I saw my first mirage, and understood how easy it would be to be fooled. After driving for many hours, we arrived and one of the RVA students home with his parents showed me the Black Mamba snake he had found right near the campground where we were staying. He had it in a jar, and I was very grateful for glass in a way I had never been before.

DAY EIGHT:  There is a pool of sorts at this campground, set up by very creative missionaries, and Matthew was so thrilled that he spent the whole day in the pool. I was the adult who watched the kids. Besides his grandparents, his friends and his dog, the only thing Matthew really misses is swimming, so he made the most of it.

DAY NINE:  We headed back to Kurungu, and because it had rained, the roads were very tough to navigate. At one point, going up an unpaved “road” our truck lurched so violently to the right that I thought we might tip over. We got everyone out of the truck, and after several minutes of being stuck, we finally got out. We were grateful; the African desert is not a good place to be stranded.

DAY TEN:  We are in a campground where lions are unrestricted. Nan and I go for a walk, and a couple starts yelling to us to run because lions have entered the area where we are. We run, and find out later that it was waterbucks, not lions, but we do see several lions later.

DAY ELEVEN:  When I started this trip, it was embarrassing to squat. I am now convinced I could drop trouser in the middle of Macy’s the day after Thanksgiving and not think a thing of it. Is this progress or regression? There was a small latrine that one of our party left rapidly because of the black mamba that objected to the gifts offered.

Conclusion:  How can you help without damaging what is precious in a culture? Some of the children we saw wear no clothing at night, and pneumonia is common. Part of the culture of one tribe is that the warriors can leave their spears in front of any hut, and then sleep with any woman within. Besides the obvious subjugation of woman, it is a way that AIDS is rushing through the area. Sanitary conditions are horrific. Children can often be hungry.

But so much of the cultures of different tribes are wonderful; close communities, close families, a love and understanding of nature that few of us will ever have. How can you keep the good in a culture but offer help to eliminate what is harmful? It isn’t an easy question, and I’m not sure there is a formula, but I came away enjoying the different cultures and longing to help change what is harmful and deadly.

Much has been made of the cultural imperialism that so many missionaries once practiced, but what I saw were people who cherished cultures, and looked to see what was in a culture that they could learn from. It also made me see that pure Christianity, divorced from cultural influences, is the one thing that can truly change this country.

These are the heavy lifting missionaries. One couple works in a community of 20,000, and handled all the famine relief when the drought was on. They have to spend so much time just trying to survive and stay alive, and they have to do it themselves. I walked away in awe of their sacrifice, and of their love of the people.

Toilets look different to me now. I don’t take them for granted anymore.

Your pal,
Steve