"The reckless truth of travel into countries and cultures far from your own is that sometimes, you're just rolling with the dice. Fate, the tour guide, can lead any traveler, at any moment of the journey, into a labyrinth of learning and love, or the long tunnel of a dangerous adventure. And every traveler knows those moments in the mirror: the last, long look at yourself before Okay, let's do this." - Gregory David Roberts
The two weeks we spent with the Walking with Maasai community was filled with sensational norms like stalking a buffalo and adopting an eland. The road to Maasailand was sensational too. Kenya Drift is what we called it as we watched and experienced first hand how window-seated passengers interchangeably had front row seats without even calling the shotgun. We slid this way and that and off track countless times in our separate vehicles en route to Olkoroi Camp. Then we pushed as it rained, trudging in the mud into the early hours of the morn: 'twas epic.
Unlike the last time I visited Olkoroi, this experience wasn't accompanied by a warm sun at day and a host of stars at night. It was perfect if sleeping in the rain gives you that good feeling you get when it rains while you sleep, in a tent. From arrival to departure staying dry and clean wasn't an option. Dirty feet and small talk became the order of every day followed by sweet Maasai tea and deeper talks at night.
On one occasion when the rain momentarily ceased, the almost rhetorical question had a small group of us reserve our stories for another time; "who's coming with, we're going to see if we can find the Tanzanian border?" It wasn't ten minutes before six whimsical rookies were crossing the river below, happy to traverse the unknown terrain barefoot. There was no other way. We ran with unprecedented freedom through a myriad of acacia trees and muddy grasslands and paused regularly to remove thorns, catch our breath and wonder at the lush bush, deep in the heart of Masaailand. Farther along we met countrymen who neither understood our broken Maasai speech nor why anyone would render a sloping wet field to be the perfect water slide, least of all some supposedly lost white folk. We never reached the border, instead we proclaimed Jesus to a man who despite living far from centralization, spoke English.
In another eerie episode; We few, we happy few, we band of brothers left camp and took to the hills during an untimely downpour. After venturing through a dense forest we sheltered for an eve where buffalo and colobus monkey reside. For the first watch of the night a rare span of stars welcomed us, evoking another timeless sensation—the infinitude of God. The next morning though, brothers with empty stomachs fervently stoked drenched wood in an attempt to restart the fire that was drowned in the never ending rain, just to make bland oats. Oats or not, rain or not, there is always going to be a fire to be kept alive and fanning the flame and keeping the coals connected is one universal truth Kenya echoed clearly.
The rain's rhythmic fall meant more than good rest, reads, chats and storybook adventures. There's something about worshiping Jesus, together. We joined in song countless times and it was loud, and it was wild. One particular cover led by Lelani; and Francois Louis with his rasping, flint-like voice and guitar in hand; still burns within me:
I don't wanna ride on somebody else's passion
I don't wanna find that I am just dry bones
I wanna burn with unquenchable fire
Deep down inside see it coming alive
Help me find my own flame
Help me find my own fire
I want the real thing
I want Your burning desire
(United Pursuit)