Emily, Marie and Carolyn with the Ladies of Lemongo

 -------------------------------LEMONGO Village, Kenya, Africa
---------------------Land of beautiful people, sunsets and Mt. Kilimanjaro

When I first arrived at Lemongo Village, a 5+ hr.matato (Van) ride from Nairobi, I was struck by the starkness of the red clay ground and the grey thorn bush trees against the the expansive blue sky that seamlessly wraps itself around the blistering hot sun.

In a split second, magically, as if from nowhere, appear throngs of children idressed in school uniforms with bright orange sweaters, singing and cheering, led by teacher Kim , who with a twinkle in his eye and a skip in his gait, could be mistaken for Eddie Murphy.

My cousin Carolyn is their Angelina Jolie (not that they would know who Angelina Jolie might be),and they have been anticipating this day since her departure 11 months ago.

After much enthusiastic hugging, some of which could knock you off your feet, we picked out Boma,s and settled in for 4 weeks with these delightful people.

Mt. Kilimanjaro

Sleeping on a bed made of sticks is not so bad when two, maybe three thin mattresses and with a lovingly prepared kerosene lamp and several strategically placed torches (flashlights), my Boma was aglow with possibilities:  Hum,lets see,maybe curtains, a throw rug or two? No, let's just get thru the first night without redecorating-ha.

 

Carolyn and a favorite Coco (Grandmother)

Me comforting a sick baby

Admittedly, the red dirt floors and glassless small windows took some getting used to, but remembering  Henry David Thoreau  words of wisdom that all one really needs in a sitting room is two chairs; one for yourself and one should a visitor stop by on his travels, helped me find solace in my Boma,s simplicity: one , two mattress bed to sleep in and the other un-mattressed bed for my belongings. O, and a stick hanging perfectly between two walls made a suitable clothes rack, as well as a ideal home to hang the kerosene lamp which works both as a reading light and when the flame is low, a nightlight.

With daybreak came the crowing of a distant rooster, as the morning  light seeped it's way into my hut. I welcomed the morning as getting out of bed in the middle of the night to walk to the latrine, though romantic in a camping-kind-of-way, gets old very quickly.

Beautiful Maasi Woman

Often awaiting me was a thermos full of maji moto(hot water), when poured over my Plantation Mint teabag, both literally and figuratively suited me to a T .Ah, sipping on warm mint tea while checking today's inspiration from "God Calling" was a perfect start to a busy day full of newness and adventure.

The women; old Coco's (grandmother's) and young Mom's with a baby on their backs and one toddling along, awaited our appearance, long before we had washed or shoved a power bar down our throats.
I sometimes wondered what time they had arisen to have walked such a distance decked from head to toe in Maasia attire.

Maasia Moran Warrior demonstating Spear Throwing

   

The Maasia are a fascinating ancient African Tribe, far older than the 216 year young country of which I proudly claim as my own, though both my parents are of Celtric tradition.(Dad arriving from Ireland to Philadelphia, PA as a 13 year old)

My cousin Carolyn Tague, her father Thomas and my mother Helen, siblings from parents who immigrated from Scotland, made note in one of our evening chats around the Lemongo campfire, that we Americans labeled ourselves as Irish-Americans or Italian -Americans ect., as we are a land of immigrants.

Yes, unlike most of Africa, we are babes in the woods and lack the history and rich tradition that oozes from the immense continent of Africa.

Being a Maasia is not a choice or a decision, it is who they are--like being black or white or male or female.

Sunsets, a favorite time of day

Their history is steeped in tradition, honor and lots of mystery. With the advent of Christianity and Education came some changes, but the Maasia have seemingly succeeded in melding these alterations withing their culture, as opposed to discarding the baby with the bathwater.

Young Maasia Mom and Baby

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The Maasia exude a sense of honor, respect and self discipline, and , in turn, raised the bar a little higher for me. I quickly found the tradition of touching the children's heads (or those much younger than I) on the top of the head, went from a simple gesture of greeting to a shared blessing between kindred spirits. I miss it already, though it is only 10 days since I left Lemongo and it's people.

Me assisting Dr. Korir

Word got out that I was a "Medic" and though not a MD, I was often referred to as "Doctore Maria". Marie is a hard sound for Africans so I was Maria in Kenya and Mary in Uganda .

Fortunately, most of the women and children and a few men, suffered mostly from change of season cold and allergies.

Twice, during our stay, Carolyn arranged Dispensary days, hirering a doctor and a nurse for the day.. We saw 263 and 294 pts. repectively, on each Dispensary Day and my skills with "breath sounds" came in handy as I screened each pt. to determine if they should go directly to the medication nurse for dowa ( drugs) or needed to be seen by Dr. Korir. Then some are referred to the big city for further treatment . All of this is done gratis by The Lemongo Project (aka: Carolyn Tague), so keep us in mind when you are writing your tax deduction checks. www.thelemongoproject.org




I texted to a chosen few that I was never more exhausted or felt more like the handmaid of the Lord , than I did on those days.
                     ( to be continued

Me screening pts

Patients waiting in line to see the Doctor. (next to my Boma!)

Medication all ordered and paid for by The Lemongo Project (ie: Cousin Carolyn

Rubin (our knight in shining armor) taking Carolyn and Me to the big town of Rombo!