Karachuono

Thursday I traveled with a friend of mine to the area his mom is living in. It's called Karachuono, and is about a 30 minute piki piki drive from where I am living. His mom told me that Rachuono was a man that was around long ago that had many wives. Each smaller area in this large area of land is named for one of his wives. The specific place we were in was called Kokoth, and the area that Silivia grew up in is Kanjira.

We walked to greet a couple different old grandmothers in the area. This place is quite interior, so most people have not seen any Mzungus around. The first old lady we went to see scolded Seth, the boy that took me, for not calling her ahead of time. I sat behind her in a chair in the shade, and she told me about growing up as she placed her withered hand on my knee. She explained that her husband first brought 5 bulls to her father, then when they actually married 4 more. I laughed as I said she must have been quite beautiful - usually people only bring between 5-8 cows - and she confirmed she was expressive and very beautiful. Her husband fought in both wars, spending some time in Madagascar before bringing her to her home now. She gave birth to 13 children, although only 6 remain now - the era of HIV decimating members of this family. We left, explaining we were going to see some other grandmas in the area.

The next house we walked to was at the base of Homa Hill. The walk was long - on a pathway lined with trees. The sun was hot and we walked slowly, jumping to pieces of shade. Her home was placed on the slope of the hill - and it was large and beautiful. Her granddaughter was outside washing clothes in a black basin, and she told us she had gone to the farm. We walked inside this house. The sitting room was huge, with a large wooden dining table taking up one half and multiple sofas filling the other. Her and her husbands initials were carved into the wall near the ceiling of the entire room. A light breeze billowed the white curtains inwards towards us. It was extremely quiet up here, and surrounded by tall, leafy green trees.

The mama finally entered. She was sweating, and apologized as she explained she was looking for a lost goat. She has a slight gap between her teeth, and walks with the assistance of two canes. She continued apologizing as she fussed around to bring us water. Her husband's brother's home is next door, and she told us we most go over and visit them as well. We stood to do this as she prepared lunch for us.

We walked into another large compound, after removing a hastily built fence to keep the stray goats inside. One of the grandmother's made noise as she pushed us to come through the front door instead of the back - some sort of taboo for first time visitors. We sat in the sitting room with two other women and one man. They brought a large mud basket full of ground nuts (peanuts) and I began to help shell them. They exclaimed in surprise that I knew how to do this. I laughed remembering Mariner's games with my family when I was little, my dad buying fresh roasted peanuts there.

They asked me what I was doing here, and I told them I wanted to come hear their stories, that I loved spending time with old people and I wanted to hear about when they were young. They again looked at me with surprise - my generation here uninterested in their experience.

The man and woman sitting across from me are married, and began to tell me about life before there was money, matches, or clothing. They explained that life was hard then, but at least working hard provided them with the food and shelter they needed. That life now they thought was actually harder, explaining that they didn't understand this new technology and that it made their lives more difficult. I cracked groundnuts happily, sitting back as the old lady in spectacles began to tell me an old wives tale.

We caught a ride back to Kochia from the local Chief. I rolled down my window and sat in happy silence, Luo music playing in the background. Wind rushed past my face and I thought about these elderly people I had the privilege of meeting today. They all were shocked that I wanted to hear about THEM. The stereotypes they hold about white people telling them that the place I come from is too great to want to know about their lives. I'm saddened greatly by this belief - but hope that maybe I can change a few of their minds, and hear some wonderful stories in the process. I will be travelling back there on Tuesday - to interview individuals with HIV in the area, and hopefully to visit these old grandies again.