Moranni

I have a new friend. His name is Moranni. Moranni is 28 years old. I met Moranni when I visited his village. Benjamin asked us if we were interested in visiting something off the beaten tourist track. We all said yes so he brought us to a Masaii Village, one of many in Kenya.

Moranni has 6 wives. Him having 6 wives is a good thing for his village because every time a man takes on a new wife, the new wife’s family has to give 10 cows to the man’s village. Moranni also has 6 houses, because all of his wives must live in a separate house. Every time a man weds a new wive, a new house needs to be built. The wife builds the house, the man supplies the things to build the house, that is branches and cow dung. High price to pay to marry a new wife, but hey, who’s to complain, you still get 10 cows out of the deal. Moranni’s village has 25 houses. That could very well mean 25 wives, and even better still, if my math is correct, up to 250 cows. Pretty impressive inventory of cows and wives for a small village.

Houses in Moranni’s village are all the same, built out of branches, hay, and cow dung, lots of cow dung. It's kind of like the circle of life: the more wives you marry, the more cows you get, which means more cow dung, which means more houses you can build to house the wives that you've married. Isn't life wonderful! I think they call this the interconnectivity of the universe. Moranni showed me a partially completed house. Simple enough construction, even I could probably build one. Frame the house by tying a few branches together and then throwing cow shit on the branches until it sticks. Nothing to it, Moranni assured me. I told him I would pass on the cow dung, I would continue using vinyl siding on my house.

Moranni invited me inside one of his houses. It was really dark inside. He invited me to sit down in front of his newest wife who was preparing dinner. Like I said, it was really dark; I could not see Madame Moranni cooking dinner but I could tell that this was what she was doing because of the open fire at my feet. The house was filled with smoke. I guess proper ventilation is still something that needs to be worked out in the blueprints of these cow dung houses. Moranni introduced me to his newest wife. I could not see her but I said hello. I took some pictures using my flash hoping to catch a glimpse of Madame. I did not actually see Madame Moranni when I was sitting in her house, but I had proof of our meeting later on when I looked at my photos.

After the short visit at Moranni’s newest wife’s cow dung house, Moranni got some of his Masaii buddies together and danced for us. They danced a traditional Masaii dance, a little alpha macho number with guys jumping around and making weird deep guttural sounds that supposedly are a turn-on for women. Madeleine assured me that it was not a turn-on. But then she’s not Masai. Moranni explained that the dancer who jumped the highest would win the competition and the prize was as many girlfriends as he could handle. He invited me to jump with the boys. I jumped. After a few sissy jumps and a couple of futile attempts at making sexy guttural noises, I stopped acting like an old water buffalo in heat. I did not want to make a fool of myself in front of my new found Masaii buddies. They said I had jumped the highest. They were being polite. I told them I would pass on the girlfriends, just like I had passed on the cow dung. Madeleine was again impressed.

Then Moranni brought me to the central plaza of the village which was a big round dirt field fenced in with dried branches. A lot of dried cow pies littered the field. Moranni told me this was where they kept their cows at night, protected from the wild game that roamed the fields surrounding the village. These cows were the villages pride and joy. After all, these village men had to marry a lot of women to get these cows. The field was also the central meeting place for the village, like a town square, but round and filled with cow dung. Special events took place there, weddings, funerals, get togethers, and circumcision rights of passage ceremonies.

Circumcision came up a lot during my conversation with Moranni. Boys get circumcised at a public circumcision ceremony when they reach the age of 15. I kind of cringed when Morani told me this; I get embarrassed when people sing me Happy Birthday in public, imagine how poorly I would handle getting part of my manhood chopped off in the village square. Surprisingly, girls, who get circumcised at the age of 18, get a better deal. Or do they? Their circumcision is not a public event; it is done in the privacy of a bush somewhere, far from the village.

I was tempted to debate this cruel traditional practice with Moranni, but I decided not to. I figured that with his limited English, my new friend would not have understood terms like savage, barbaric, inhumane, atrocious, genitalia mutilation.

Moranni invited some women form the village to sing for us. Seven glum and sad women appeared at the centre of the field and sang us a song, welcoming us to the village. It was sad. Once the song ended, 4 of them came up to us, faces still gloomy, and shook our hands. The three other just turned around and disappeared. Madeleine started to ask the women questions about their clothing and jewelry, especially their earrings hanging from their droopy ear lobes. I think the ladies were tickled pink by Madeleine's interest in their attire, as much as depressed women can be tickled pink, I guess. Moranni appeared uptight at that point and basically shooed the ladies away.

On the way back to the van, I asked Moranni about the children of the village and if and where they would go to school. Moranni pointed to a building at a distance which appeared to be quite new, built of bricks and covered with a bright green tin roof. This was the new school, built and supported by a man named Richard Branson (Virgin Airlines). I always admired Richard Branson, I like him even more now.

I shook Moranni’s hand and thanked him for the visit. He invited me to come again and perhaps take time to visit the school. I told him I would like that. Pretty powerful stuff, this afternoon.