Friday, July 17, 2009

TUESDAY, 4PM.






My first mosquito bite.

The sundowner tonight is on the top of a small hill. Canvas chairs are waiting for us in a semi-circle around a large fire. With drinks in hand, we see the land stretching out before us. Every hill seems to have a secret and ancient name.

There’s a distant sound, a chorus, getting louder. Spears appear over the hill as Maasai warriors wrapped in purple and red clothe dance and sing trance-like over the horizon. There’s Daniel. Emanuel comes from behind the drink table, throws a red blanket over his shoulders and joins the walking dance, his signature smile even wider than usual.

I quickly sit down by the fire to take it all in thinking of all the white people sitting in this spot and all the Maasai proudly showing off their fierce beauty throughout time.

"Humm rumm. Humm rumm" they sing. After circling the fire the young men stand in a tight group on the far side. A warrior steps forward and starts to jump. His tall body launches from a dead stop, rigid. His walking stick in hand, he lands bending his knees only slightly to take the shock.

A young Maasai invites LeDoux to join the dance. Convinced that girls can’t play, I’m shocked when Daniel reaches for my hand, pulls me up, and walk/dances me to the group of men. I’ve watched them closely so move my neck and body as I’d seen, jutting my neck out and stamping my feet.

“Humm. Rumm,” I join the singing. “Humm. Rumm.”

When I start to jump, Daniel pulls me down. I understand that it would be bad form to jump higher than a Maasai warrior. My second jump is low. I thank Daniel and grab my drink to steady myself from the excitement before sitting down.

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