"Up Country" and Dowry Parties

After returning from the field on Thursday (Aug. 2nd), Lindsey and I both feared that we would be spending our final few days in Kenya waiting for something to happen. We'd both finished the books that we had and, as we were both stuck at our respective houses without transportation, we didn't have many options in the way of entertainment.

Thankfully, the Mboli's (Lindsey's host family) had planned a trip "up country" for Saturday night and Lindsey and I got to tag along. Being a naive American, I assumed it meant "going north." Boy was I wrong. To a Kenyan, to go "up country" simply means to return to the village where one grew up and, most likely, where one's parents, and maybe a few siblings and other relatives, still reside.

We left Athi River in mid afternoon with Martin and his wife Jacinta (the Mboli's), as well as a friend of theirs named Sebastian. We headed south, passed through Machakos (a larger town where Martin owns a pharmacy that sells both human and veterinary products), and then continued south from there to the village of Mba. The roads were extremely windy (think Rte 1 on the California coast, but driving 45+ mph) and hill, but provided beautiful views of the Kenyan countryside.

A little after 6 pm, and just before the sun began to set, we arrived at our destination: a dowry party in the village for a couple that Martin and Jacinta have been friends with for a long time. Normally, dowry parties occur close to the time of marriage in order to present the bride's parents with gifts to thank them for giving away their daughter. This couple had been married for some time and had children that were at least 9 years old - but it's never too late to say thank you.

We stood in the back, trying to be discrete (which is quite a task when you're the only muzungus, a.k.a. white people, for miles). However, not 10 minutes after we'd arrived, the announcer came up to Lindsey and I and led us to two chairs that had been cleared in the front row in a crowd of around 100 people. The little kids that were seated at in the chairs next to and behind us kept sneaking glances at us, but every time we waved back or tried to say hello they would just smile and bury their faces in their hands, obviously embarrassed that they'd been caught staring.

We were already sufficiently embarrassed at this point, but things were about to get worse. After 5 minutes in the front row, the announcer invited us to come up to the microphone to greet the crowd. Our faces were both different shades of red at this point and we struggled not to laugh out of nervousness while introducing ourselves to the crowd (clearly, veterinary school has done wonders for my maturity level).

We finally located Martin sitting in the back with some of his friends. From the front, it was easy to see that, for the most part, the guests had divided themselves according to gender and age - all the men sat together, all the women sat together (some of whom were even dressed the same), and all the kids sat together in different areas of the crowd, but by no means ranked in any fashion. Martin addressed the crowd in kiswahili, although it seemed like most of them understood our English greetings, and we were free to return to our seats.

After the sun went down, in true Kenyan fashion, the lights when up, the music came on, the beer came out, and the food preparation began. Once again, the men and the women divided themselves into separate gatherings, though Lindsey, Jacinta and I (as well as a few other women) stayed in the mens circle to join in their discussions, which ranged from politics (can't even begin to count how many times we ended up discussing the current U.S. administration and declaring our disapproval of it). Around 10:30 pm, after quite a bit of Tusker, the food line was opened. They had potato stew, boiled beef, white rice and chapati (a sweet and savory pancake about twice the thickness of a crepe). Boy did food taste good.

I was also lucky enough to learn how to open a beer bottle using the cap of another beer bottle. It was quite a feat, but the guy handing out the beer kept bringing other people's beers over to me to practice. By the end of the night I could successful remove a bottle cap using another open bottle about every other try.

After stopping at a local bar on the way back to Martin's mother's house, we finally reached our beds around 12:30. Unfortunately, I took a risk and swallowed my malaria pills and large multivitamin sans water. Around 4 am, that decision came back to haunt me when I began having sharp pains in what I guessed was my esophagus - it felt like something hadn't quite made it all the way down. Running water and electricity were not luxuries that are commonly available "up country." And so I had to wait until breakfast tea to wash it all down. It made for quite a restless night and quite a bit of discomfort throughout the next few days. Lesson learned: when it says "take with water," do it.

Despite a little bit of discomfort, we got up early and enjoyed a delicious breakfast of bread and muffins, tea, and delicious fresh fruits. After breakfast, we helped Martin's mother shell peas - a very messy task, but not a bad way to pass the time - while a young calf, a hen and her chicks, and a skinny (but adorable) dog browsed nearby for scraps of food or shells from the peas. Not two hours after breakfast, we had some maize and peas and boiled chicken for lunch before heading out for Athi River.

Even though we left Mba and Martin's mother's house around 11:30, we didn't make it back to Athi River until almost 6 pm (the ride down had taken under 2 hours). The ride home included a stop at Martin's friend's store to say hello, an hour or so long stop at a friend's bar (I think Sebastian alone had 6 Tusker Malts before 1 pm), and then a short visit for a second, mid-afternoon lunch at the home of Jacinta's brother.

We finally returned to Athi River around 5:30 pm, where we met Muya, his wife Liz, and their children, Mbula and Steve, for a few more drinks and more food - ugali and beef for the adults and chips (a.k.a. french fries) for the kids.

It was a whirlwind 24 hours, but it was a lot of fun and was 10x better than sitting on the couch reading or watching African soap operas!