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Published: March 2nd 2009
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Eager Learners
I think this is about a 2nd or 3rd grade class. We started the day with a visit to the local primary school. We had met Emanuel, the Headmaster, a couple of days earlier and arranged to visit the school on this day. As we arrived, there was a mob scene of youngsters touching us, trying to greet us, wanting to shake our hands and generally just being kids.
Emanuel showed us around the classrooms (by this time filled with orderly children) and explained a bit of the school’s history. They currently have 188 students which is slightly down from last year’s 202. The people in this area are nomadic and they just pack up and move away. There is no compulsory education, so even if the family is in the area, the child may simply be truant.
The children who live in the outlying settlements over the mountain, stay at the school all week long. They are provided one hot meal per day and that may be the only thing they have to eat for the day. Most of those who sleep at school are allowed to go home to their family about one weekend per month.
We peeked in on a couple of classrooms and tried to
Can she get up again?
some of the ladies were concerned that Cheryl would be able to get up from her shpooing spree. not be too disruptive as their national mid-term exams were in progress. After about a half hour it was time to let them get back to their normal routine.
At 4PM we walked downtown and had been arranged, the ladies turned out with their beadwork that they wanted to sell us.
We tried to spend about 1,000 Kenya Shillings (about $13 US) with each one and succeeded. We now have more necklaces, bracelets etc. etc. than 20 people could wear in 20 years. But, the gesture was greatly appreciated by the ladies.
At the conclusion, one woman asked to speak to us. Through Christine as an interpreter, she started to talk about how hard they work all day long and how they must buy the beads. We both thought we were in for a lecture about how dare you rich Americans come to Kenya and buy the results of our hard work for a cheap price. Well, nothing could be further from the truth. She went on to say how appreciative they all were for having us come visit them in this remote part of Kenya and how hard it is for them to sell their hand
Matthew's yard
notice the vein on the side of this camel work . They must travel great distances on foot to find a store that will buy their handicraft and then pay them only a very small price.
I think we probably paid what is a fair price for their goods and perhaps a bit more than the stores would have paid them. The gratitude she expressed was for being fair, friendly and generous to the point of buying approximately the same amount of value from each person who was there.
The only person we declined to buy from was a pre-teen boy who wanted to sell his bracelet for about 3 times what the ladies were asking for similar items. It was obvious he was a rip-off artist who was trying to take advantage of the Americans in town and sell his personal item for a profit. He quickly reduced his asking price and we quickly refused.
All in all, we felt good about helping the local economy without just giving a handout. In fact, one man showed up at our door a coupe of hours later looking for some money because he was hungry. We pled ignorance of the language until one of the dispensary staff
happened by and interpreted for us. He explained to us their policy that you’ll almost always give money to someone who is willing to work for it, but never reward begging.
We were invited to go to Matthew’s house to watch him milk his camels. We understood that he was going to come to our house to pick us up at 6:30 and walk us the two kilometers (1.25 miles) to his house and the camels. What he had intended, was that we should be at his house at 6:30.
Since he wasn’t around by shortly after 6:30, we started off on our own (Cheryl, Gloria and me) and after about twenty minutes walking, met Matthew on the road in downtown Arsim. “Where have you been?” he asked. “I was getting worried about you. You were to be at my home half an hour ago. It is already starting to get dark.”
That’s when we discovered the mix up in time. Nevertheless, we followed him across the river twice, through the desert, over the bumps and rocks until we finally reached his house and camel pen.
By then it was well after sundown and there was
Hal milking the camel
notice the hobble (rope) around the camel's hindquarters so she doesn't kick me. just barely enough light to get some pretty dim pictures of the camels. Had we arrived at Matthew’s house at 6:30, we’d have been able to take some pictures in the available light. Perhaps, we’d even be able to shoot some motion videos of the camels getting milked. He assured Cheryl that it was OK to take flash pictures and that the camels wouldn’t mind a bit.
He took me aside and gave me the short course - Camel 101. I learned about their muscle structure, their ability to withstand heat, the fact that their blood vessels are on the outside of the body rather than inside like most other animals and how they store fat and water in that hump.
By then it was time to start milking. Matthew milked the first two camels and then he said, “Here, you try.” Not being smart enough to know that I should be afraid or anything, I jumped right in, grabbed a handful of camel breast and actually got some milk in the collection bowl. Of course, I got nearly as much on my hand, wrist and arm as I got in the bowl, but I managed enough of an attempt to not be completely laughed out of the province.
In a couple of minutes, Matthew turned over the rest of the milking to his three herding boys and sat with us outside his traditional Samburu hut to have tea with us. Of course, the milk in the tea this time was camel’s milk. All the rest of the tea we had in Kenya was likely made with goat’s milk. It is tradition that the man sits outside with guests and entertains them while the wife is occupied inside the house with making the tea, tending the fire and attending to the children.
Just as he poured the tea, he asked if I would like to try some camel’s milk. But of course, I would. He came back in a jiffy with a cup of milk with that wonderful smoky flavor and still warm from the camel. It was delicious. I’m a big milk drinker at home. I probably drink over two gallons of 1% milk per week. Camel’s milk is my new favorite drink. It’s light, it’s tasty, it’s healthy and Matthew even claims it contains vitamin C - the only milk that does.
As we sat around in the dark marveling at how bright the stars are here where the nearest town with street lights is 3 hours away by car. We could see Orion, the Southern Cross and the most incredible display of the Milky Way. We learned a great deal about our host.
For example, he has been tending camels since he was a small boy and over 15 years with his own herd. He speaks 6 languages fluently. He has four children, two away at boarding school and the other two are preschoolers at home with him and his wife. They live in roughly the border area between the Samburu and Rendille people. He is Rendille by birth, his wife is Samburu.
Editorial note: I bought a half liter of camel’s milk at a supermarket once we got back to Nairobi. I was pretty disappointed. It was pasteurized, homogenized and refrigerated. It also did not have the smoky taste that comes from the charcoal-sanitized reed or wodden bottles of the bush people.
On the walk home in the dark, Gloria told us that as we leave on our trip in the morning, Matthew is coming with us. The mission’s policy is that no one is to drive alone over great distances. If she drives anywhere she must be accompanied by a Kenyan man. Essentially, Matthew is coming along to be our bodyguard.
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