I'm not sure if it was a tourist exhibit village, or a village ..village...that for ages existed, in the midst of nowhere. No roads lead to the place, just dirt tracks, the driver followed to reach destination. Under the shade of an acacia tree, we were made to wait, sitting on narrow wooden logs, roughly hewed, to resemble benches. With great flouris, the Chief of the village, accompanied with his troupe, in full regalia welcomed us with the traditional dance. Gentle steps keeping to the best of the drums. That over, we were invited into the village, fenced off by acacia branches dug into the soil. Visit to the Masai Mara village in Kenya was a rude awakening! Felt like slipping back to the stone ages. And yes, they still rub Flintstones to create a fire for cooking meals. Yes they still live in hutments, crudely put together with caked mud, branches and whatever the environment offers them. The village headsman shared the history of their clan.. all four generations co-existing in peace and in harmony. We didn't take a head count, but probably fifty of them, one or the other way blood related, living a life frozen in a time capsule unbroken. Perhaps oldest habitat. #villagestory #writing #writingresolution #writinginspiration #day19 #yqbaba #yqquotes #readingminds
