Long before bartenders with earplugs and bike messengers with bags made out of recycled tires, there were the Maasai--Kenya's warrior tribe recognizable by their brightly colored robes, widely stretched earlobes, and handmade rubber shoes.
My friend told me not to bother going to a Maasai village to see their dancing because they're just tourist traps. According to him, the women probably do pole dances at night to supplement what they make for their traditional day-time steps.
I, however, disagree. First of all, there are no strip clubs in a Maasai village. There are no toilets in a Maasai village. A Maasai village is nothing more than huts made of sticks and dung, built in a circle where they keep their cattle at night. There's poop everywhere. They use it for everything, including making fire by rubbing two sticks together (I tried it. Close. But no lit cigar.)
But with all this, the people seem so clean. Their clothes are amazing. Their jewelry is amazing. Their way of life is like something out of a folklore. It's like stepping back a hundred years in time (minus the occasional motorcycle you see roaring about).
And beyond the Maasai villages is the Maasai Mara--a game preserve that, at this time of year, puts the Serengeti to shame. More to come on this a little later. Right now, a large blue bus is waiting for me to get on.
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