Such a crazy experience.  I feel so blessed that we got to go 
through it.  It felt like a week and yet it was only 24 hours.  We came to this beautiful 
campground where we met a man dressed in street clothes who was a 
Massai.  He had traditionally stretched earlobes, one had ripped long ago and was dangling.  He also had two scars on his cheeks below his eyes, that were from from a iron rob placed in the 
fire and then on his skin to prevent eye disease.  His name was Issac, we walked with Issac through the dusty town to a 
boma (village) it was located about 3 mi away.  There were \huts made of sticks, cow dung, and grass roofs concentrated in the area.  The village around 10 huts but there were many more scattered around the valley.  Our bags were brought into the hut and we ducked through the tiny opening inside.  It was a stark contrast between the hot 
african sun and it took awhile to adjust our eyes.  There were two holes to the outside about three fingers wide, to provide 
ventilation.  Mark, 
michelle, 
ron, and i sat on the beds/pallets 
that were 
raised platforms with twigs covered in animal skins.  I sat on a carved stool.  Here Issac 
told us a little bit about 
Massai culture.  The houses were build by women.  In fact, women did almost all of the work in the 
boma.  The men herded cattle, went to market, and drank.  Each hut was for a wife and her children.  Men had around five wives.  He spent on 
week with each.  The children sleep in one room and the mom and dad in the other.  To our amazement later that day...so do five or six cow and 12 chickens.  A big highlight was watching the young recently 
circumcised males march our cows into the hut.  When we pointed this out to 
michelle she was drop jawed that our night was to be spent with cows! it was hilarious.  The 
bomas are in the dust of the desert, so the women have to go nearer to the mountainous crater walls to gather wood to build their homes.  They then collect cow 
dung in pots (looks like the same ones they cook with) and mix with water much like 
cobb.  The men are 
circumcised between the age of 8 and 20.  They then begin to take the cows to water and to graze.  The men wear mostly red thin wool capes.  The women wear blue.  The women in the village had much more tattered clothes than the men.  In the ear are white beaded earrings, sometimes very long. They wear white anklets and necklaces.  there is a pen in the middle where some of the animals are kept at night.  No need for barbed wire there are trees in this place that would keep a tank 
ou8t.  They have white spikes out of them.  As Ron said "there are many 
angry trees in Africa."  Issac to us to 
market a few miles away and answered our many questions. There is  a 
masai school.  Most of the medical care is done in the village with tree bark. We got to the market and it was a sea of 
clor, red everywhere.  we 
knew we were in for a color shock treat.  no whites anywhere.  Issac took us first to the 
barbecue pits.  The market was under huge candelabra cactus trees.  The meat was goat.  Issac wanted to buy some 
barbeque they had cut and cleaned that day, but staring at the goats severed head, we were all a little hesitant.  Then we were brought to a 
tarp  where people were sitting 
around a bucket on benches.  In the bucket contained a frothy white 
liquid that was banana beer.  Oh, how i wanted to try some.  but it is not peeled or cooked...we then went to the market and mark bought shoes made out of tires.  we ate our lunch in a little hut where warm sodas were sold.  Issac got 
barbeque and chili.  the 
barbeque was beef and he insisted we try some.  As we ate a man was hacking into a goat head by a fire and working hard at it too.  it was a little hard to eat.  It feels bad to eat when there are hungry people around.  Issac's chili had two plantains in it and some red sauce.  He left us for two hours as he drank banana beer with his father!!! We strolled 
around the market but quickly retreated to the edges as we were aggressively recruited rich white people.  Some of the 
Masais wear suits, talk on cell phones, and ride motorcycles.  It is a huge contrast.  When we found 
issac again we headed back to the village.  The huts were more civilized near to town and less as you moved further away.  The children swarmed 
around us, not 
asking to be held but clinging, investigating, laughing.  They were dressed in Western clothes and not 
massai.  We played 
Frisbee with them.  They were over joyed and 
hilarious.  One boy was instantly amazing.  Most of them began by throwing the disc upside down.  A large bowl of porridge was 
broght out and the women and children sat around eating it.  No one making sure they had enough, but then again there were children there with no pants on.  Mark went to bed but 
michlele and i sat down on goat shit and cow shit star gazing.  The stars were of the best I have seen. The 
masai village was seeped with as many 
dis guts as it was gems.  The moment that summed it up best was when i put my hand down to sit and it landed in some fairly fresh wet cow shit.  I could not see due to the dark. YUCK GROSS yelled I as I frantically scraped my hand on the bottom of my shoe.  The little girl with the sparkly 
yees laughed and took my hand in hers 
wiping it until it was clean.  So much more happened, but if you have read this far your patience is amazing and mine is wavering.  Michelle will post the picutres when she gets home in about a week.  they are awesome make sure to check them out. i miss you all.