We are now halfway through with the directed research component of the course. I can honestly say that I don’t remember the last time I was this exhausted. It’s 9:22 PM and I’m in bed struggling to keep my eyes open. I should be entering data into the stat analysis (SPSS) that we are using, but Naom and I decided to do it tomorrow because we are so exhausted. Here is a brief snapshot of what my typical directed research day looks like:

Before I begin, I have a disclaimer: I don’t reread these posts before posting them because I am too tired and just want you all to be able have some updates! I apologize for grammar/spelling/nonsense/etc. J

The unwelcome alarm blared at 5:45, telling us to get ready for breakfast at 6. We had to leave by 6:30 this morning, so we left while it was still dark. Today Ernest drove myself, Naom, our translator Daniel, Victoria, Carolyn and their translator, Wiper. We drove back to Chuylu hills to do our research. I don’t remember if I mentioned this before, but I understand the need for insane four wheel drive vehicles after these roads (if you can call them roads). It’s a beautiful trip, with giraffes, snakes, jackals, zebras, wildebeests, etc all around.

We had seven questionnaires to collect today and each questionnaire takes about 40 minutes, not including the time it takes Daniel to convince them to talk to us. We were in completely rural Kenya, where there was absolutely no cell phone service, functional roads or towns. A few very interesting situations happened to us today.

In one of the first Bomas we went to, the Mama was so excited that a muzungu was coming into her home. She had never had a white person visiting there before. Because I am the only white person in my group, I certainly stand out. And yes, by stand out I also mean that I make babies burst into hysterical tears at my scary “whiteness”. It’s kind of funny but I do feel badly. They usually warm up after a few minutes. Anyway, in the middle of the interview in this Boma, the Mama grabs my hand and puts a handmade ring on my ring finger. She then jokes (in KiMaasai) that we are engaged, but then she says she has to change the finger because she isn’t a man. So now I have this beautiful periwinkle blue ring on my middle finger. So sweet! She welcomed us back and specifically requested us to come back. This woman never stopped smiling and was so kind and welcoming.

On our search for another Boma, we came across an armed guard. He was very curious as to why a muzungu and two Africans were wandering around this area on foot. He said that it was dangerous because of wildlife, but also because of poachers. Apparently, they have been having a big problem with Giraffe poaching (for food), but he said that the muzungu would be worth more than a giraffe and I could be “hijacked”. I never felt unsafe because I knew that Ernest and the car were always close by, but it was a little unnerving.

We finally found a little poor Boma on the outskirts of the other Bomas. This Boma stood out to me. When walking up to it, the Boma was clearly very poor; there were very few sticks/brush protecting it from wildlife and there was only one small house inside. This is very rare, as the extended family usually all lives together within the brush- fenced area. There are mini brush fences for cattle, shoats, etc. When we arrived, a young man, probably about my age came out. We saw a young child and requested to interview his mother. The child was very cute, but did not seem “right”. As she was walking around, his eyes kept drifting in and out of focus and going cross eyed. She also had deformed feet that gave him a slide waddle/limp. I felt so badly for this little girl. Her mother was also mentally challenged, or as the brother said, “not right”. Their household consisted of an elderly mother, handicapped young mother, her handicapped daughter and a son about my age. I felt so badly for this little family. We decided to interview the grandmother, but halfway through the interview a Mama from a neighbouring Boma started yelling in Maasai, apparently about a snake. Our guide, the brother, and probably every male within a 500 foot radius grabbed spears, machetes, and sticks and ran to help. I learned later that if an able bodied male had not run, he would be stigmatized and shamed for his cowardice. It turns out there was a 12+ foot green python in this neighbouring Boma. They got one spear in it, but it slithered away. Luckily we didn’t see it again.

Later in the day, we were arriving at another Boma where a cow had just given birth seconds before we arrived and began eating the placenta. This is apparently really bad for the cow, so our guide, Daniel, leapt into the enclosure and pushed the cow away from the placenta with a stick. The Mama then grabbed it with her bare hands and threw it outside of the Boma (and then proceeded to shake our hands- lovely).

The last interesting thing that happened was during an interview with a husband and wife. This is always an awkward and difficult scenario that we have to judge carefully. Because domestic violence is so prevalent, sometimes even asking questions of a sexual nature or referencing domestic violence can provoke it, and the last thing we want is to cause a woman to get beaten. Therefore, usually when the husband is present, we don’t question the Mama about gender roles and non-consensual sex. However, this time, the man and woman were very receptive, so we decided to ask. The main questions are about whether domestic violence is common or acceptable in Maasai culture, who perpetuates it, whether women are allowed to refuse to have sex with a man if they don’t want to, and so on. This couple agreed to answer these questions only if I would answer them about my country after (or if I paid them – the usual inquiry of a white person). I agreed to answer the questions after. It was very interesting and they were astonished that men and women are “technically” allotted the same rights and equal opportunities. I told them how domestic violence and rape do happen, but they are vastly stigmatized and are rare. They were astonished and perhaps didn’t believe me.

So far, the directed research has been extremely tiresome but very interesting. I have learned so much and have been put in uncomfortable situations. I think there are two parts of this that I find the most difficult. First, every day there are a few girls who are about 9 – 12 years old in the households. They are completely entranced by my whiteness and love to play with my hair, touch my skin, etc. They are so sweet and kind. You can tell that several of these girls are special and have a real spark in their eye. In school, they are learning English and will sit next to me or on my lap while I complete the questionnaire, quietly trying to read along. It absolutely breaks my heart when I remember that in a year or two these girls will be pulled out of school and married off, probably by age 13. They most likely will undergo female circumcision which a brutal process with extremely high morbidity rates and relatively high mortality rates. They will be launched into a culture of domestic violence, where women have no say in their lives or healthcare. It’s so sad, and yet again reminds me, “talent is universal; opportunity is not”. The second scenario that infuriates me beyond belief is when we are interviewing a couple, asking about domestic violence and the man answers smugly that he can beat his wife whenever he wants for whatever reason he wants. The wife (often younger than me) usually quietly giggles or looks away. It’s the most uncomfortable and enraging thing in the world and I would like nothing more than to slap the man as hard as possible.

            Despite these hard situations, there are some aspects of Maasai culture that are changing for the better, in my opinion. For instance, many families are choosing to explore family planning options, getting HIV tested, immunizing their children and many women are joking about how now women beat men instead. While I still strongly believe that violence is never the answer, seeing a woman beat up a sexist Maasai man would be extremely satisfying. Anyway, it’s 10 PM and my alarm is set for 6 for the last data collection day!

XO