Picking up from where I left off:
The sympathy was for the friends and family of Chake Kuyaa, a young student sponsored by my church who died in the Idodi Secondary School fire on month ago, with 11 other girls. There wasn't much we could do at all except offer our condolences and our prayers.
At certain points we would have a 3-language translation going, with Petro speaking in Kimasai, Pastor Paulo translating to Kiswahili, then our translator Mfaume ending in English. After the formal speech making, the women, who had been cooking something a little ways away, served us all groundnuts, goat meat, and pop. The meat was good, kind of greasy and tender, but I never knew which part I was supposed to eat or not. The meal was even better washed down with a pop called Mirinda Mango. Everybody ate with us, though I felt bad only Mom, Mfaume, Pastor Paulo and myself were sitting on stools and chairs. Everyone else sat on the ground , kneeled or stayed standing. On the other hand, if I just sat with them, I'd be disrespecting their hospitality. Hosts and guests each have their own role to play. People sang while we ate.
Afterwards Mom, the rest of the landrover group and I walked a short distance to the house of Chake's mother. We were going to make a "consolation visit."
Now, Masai houses are very different, even from other African houses. They are called bomas, and the one we were in was made of sticks and a thatch roof. It was held up by thick tree limbs, had two rooms, dirt floors and was about four or five feet tall. There were threee women inside sitting on a cow skin, Mama Chake in the middle and two old women on either side. Two calves stood in the corner. Mom and Mfaume took two wooden stools while I sat beside the women on the cow skin, and the others stood. Mama Chake looked so devastated and lethargic, as if her daughter had died last week instead of last month. She said that her husband was very old and that since the fire he's been living with a relative because she didn't have the energy to care for him. My mom spoke with her, held her hand and hugged her. I was glad that she could always think of fitting things to say for that moment, and that it was her job to represent our group as a whole. I would not have been able to find any words to comfort Mama Chake. Mom also gave her a card that had been signed by many people at church who had heard about the fire (along with a bit of money) and a card from Chake's sponsors. Mama Chake had been sniffling the whole time, but now she just broke down and cried, and Mom hugged her. Pastor Paulo led us in a prayer. During the prayer, to my astonishment, the calf in the corner started peeing. You could have knocked me over with a feather. All I could think was OH MY GOD! That calf was so close to the women, too. One of them kind of swatted her hand at it, but other than that no one reacted. A holy moment interrupted by life. After that we ended our visit, maybe 20 minutes, and said our good byes, shook hands, and then continued back to the area we had gathered at before. As we neared our vehicle, Mom discussed something with our group. She wanted to give a gift of money for their chapel construction in honor of Chake. It felt like the only thing of use we could do. The people were grateful for that. You may think that worshipping under a tree (like we were) is romantic and liken it to Abraham's time, but to construct an actual building for that purpose sends out the message that the Masai are serious, and they are here to stay. The people were grateful for it, and I cannot wait to see the chapel when it's finished.
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