Ilkiloret: Part 2

After class around 1 p.m. we go home for lunch. The first day we had green grams and rice for lunch (I’d brought those from Ngong). It was delicious. I ate a Maasai-sized serving. In fact I ate Maasai-sized servings for two days. Rebecca is a good cook and there is not much else to do in the bush. I was tired after a big meal and without shade from the steaming afternoon Rift Valley sun; I was growing sleeper by the minute. Rebecca noticed that I was fading fast and motioned that I should take a rest. I went inside and lay down on her bed and tired to read my Kindle, but between the heat and the flies, rest was impossible.

Janet had a meeting with the MIDI groups after lunch. While the meeting was taking place a dust storm blew through. It missed the meeting which was taking place under a tree about 100 yards away from us, but blew right threw Rebecca’s yard. I cracked the door to get a shot of it.

Dust Storm! Only a few minutes long, but you wouldn't want to be without shelter!


Janet came over a while later and we went to visit her compound. Janet’s father is the chief. He owns 600 acres of land. I guess this is why Maasai compounds tend to be isolated. They own a lot of land. Ilkiloret is an area, not really a village. People sort of materialize from the horizon around class time. For example, Hannah walks 2 km to class, small baby in tow.

Janet had polio as a child and when Grace met her she was 6 and still crawling. Grace took her to a special school where she received occupational therapy and was eventually fitted with braces and crutches. She’s a force to be reckoned with now. Not much happens in Ilkiloret without advice or approval from Janet. Her father, the chief, is quite old now and I think is enjoying figurehead status.

Janet and another woman lead the way to her families compound.

On the way to Janet’s manyatta, I notice a woman standing on the roof of her manyatta repairing it. I don’t think about this again until the next day when it pours rain. I hope she finished!

Manyatta roof repair!


We spend a lazy hour or two sitting in Janet’s manyatta. Someone makes us tea and we sit in the dark and chat. It’s dark until your eyes adjust to the light – I still haven’t mastered the Kenyan’s ability to see in the dark. I think it has to do with evolution. If you grow up in a place like the US that’s lit up like a Christmas tree your eyes don’t need to adapt to darkness. In Kenyan when night comes that’s it – lights out. I walked home from town last Saturday after 7:30 p.m. (there was a major traffic jam – I normally don’t walk around after dark), and as soon as I got out of town I had to pull out my flashlight. Lots of other people about – none with a flashlight!

Back to the manyatta. Janet and I lay on her bed. Rebecca sat on a stool. I asked a lot of questions about Maasai culture, like “Who lives in this compound?” and, Why do Maasai elongate their ears?” Answer to question one is: Janet’s father, his four wives and their children. Answer to question two: Janet didn’t quite know. “Just for beauty, I guess,” she said, “Something about traditional beliefs. Most educated people don’t have them.” Janet’s ears are normal. Rebecca’s are elongated. I also took some photos out the small circular hole in Janet’s wall. We could hear thunder in the distance and was time to start preparing dinner so we headed home. While preparing dinner we watched the storm dance on the horizon.
We had dinner around 8 p.m. and then Rebecca said, “To bed?”

Truly, there is nothing else to do, so at 8:30 p.m. we went to bed. Rebecca asked if I wanted to sleep with her and 3-year-old Eliza on the bed, but I politely pointed to my mat and to the floor, indicating I was set. There is not actually a mattress on Rebecca’s bed. They put blankets on top of the boards that make up the base of the bed. So my mat on the floor is just as comfortable and less crowded.

Accomodations in Ilkiloret.

I got some sleep, not tons, but probably four or five hours. The problem is that I almost always get up twice in the night to use the toilet. The choo - I’m just happy there is one – is a good hike from the house. It’s not like I’m afraid of wild animals, although now that I say it, there is always that possibility or even the bats. There are lots of bats. I’ve even gotten rather adept at the choo squat. The best thing to do when you leave the house at night to dismiss any fears is look up. As long as there are no bats, you’ve got front row seat to one of the most amazing sights EVER… the Rift Valley night sky. Even on a cloudy night, the sky is magnificent.

Morning finally arrives, I crawl out of my sleep sack, take off my toe socks (best invention ever), slip into my flip-flops and my clothes. This is a world with no mirrors and no makeup! And no showers until after lunch or before supper. Nice!

My second day of class is much like the first. I have nine students, two new women. Rael didn’t return. Rael is also known as Mama Laton. Laton is sponsored through Wezesha to go to school. She’s in her first year of high school.

Class goes well. In two days we are through letter H and I can already see that we will have to learn them all over again next week!

And then it hits me. I’ve just taught my second class and I’ve got another 18 to 20 hours to spend in Ilkiloret…hmmm. What will a busy-body like me ever do? Answer: Walkabout. (See Part 3)