In the Masai culture, wealth is measured by the number fo children, cattle and goats. They are puzzled at our lack of families and animals and abundance of goods. Some of the younger generation are leaving the villages to adopt the Christianity and practice birth control. They are abandoning the ways of their people. Our guide, who had taken a special liking to gregarious Fred, decided with much laughter that Fred and I were very fortunate. We were rich with children, however, we were poor because we owned no cows of goats. He quickly rectified that immediately by scooping up a kid and thrusting the soft, adorable animal into my arms. Unfortunately, he had also scooped up some of the fresh wet dung that was eveywhere. Some of the slimy stuff got on me, but worse it stuck to Fred's jacket. Not appreciated.
Since cattle and goats signify wealth, they are reated with great care and respect. The animals are rounded up every evening and herded into the center of the safe compound where they spend the warm night protected from predators. The goats are loving pets as well as useful animals. They are often welcomed into the huts to sleep with the family. By morningthe compound is covered with treacherously slippery, fresh manure mixed with urine. The Masai wear sandals or go breakfast. We try not to be squeamish.
After returning the kid to its mother, we traipsed through the wet dung in our sturdy hiking boots to the home of the second wife. The women are the construction and maintenance crew. They build and rebuild the dung houses and keep the rain out with thatching. The windowless huts have an open central living area surrounded by airless sleeping rooms. In the middle of the dark, close main room a smoke fire is kept burning. It smolders all the time. Some smoke wafts out through a small hole in the roof. The rest is your own richly scented second-hand smoke that makes your eyes burn and breathing shallow.
We sat in a semi-circle squinting through the smoke to seeour surroundings. Pleasant second wife greeted us and sat on the floor in front of the fire to answer questions. She is obviously better acquainted with our culture than we are with hers. She finds us amusing. If she would like to change places with us, I'm not aware of it. Soon we hear the wail of a newborn and her daughter-in-law leans out of a side room to show us her baby. For the time being, mother and child will be allowed to stay in the hut to recover. I can't understand how the infant can breathe here. Fred can't. We soon crawl through the small opening into the clean air. Although we have a lot of questions, our constitutions are not up to the surroundings. We want to know more, but are not strong enough to stay. Our guide leads us out through the bramle opening to the car, our own compound and breakfast.
