A line in the sand

Thursday morning we wake early.  We are told that the drive to Bissil, in Maasailand is "very far". Samson arrives with his wife, Nelly, Pastor Joshua and Rachael.  Nelly is an African version of Gloria Steinem, fighting for the rights of African women.  She is very passionate and focused on changing the African mentality.  I have a new respect for Samson, married to such an outspoken woman, he must be a brave, self assured man.  

Pastor Joshua is Samson's younger brother and pastor of a church in Ngong.  

We head out to the safari bus and our new driver, Barnabas.  

Loaded to capacity, we detour toward Rachael's school in Ngong.  

The school is beautiful and we are quickly aware that it must be for the "rich" kids.  It has all the facilities of a nice private school in the states and the children are perfectly coiffed and polite.

They greet us with laughter, rehearsed hellos and questions about President Obama.  Everyone here talks about Obama constantly.  This election has brought hope to Kenyans. 

Rachael has work to do, so she heads off with promises to see us later in the week.  

She has been a gracious host and we are bummed to leave her behind.

Barnabas heads up and up, through the hills of Ngong.  We are told of how many important people live there, the dense forest a sort of protection for them.

Another 20 minutes and we find ourselves surrounded by the plains.  They are so vast and beautiful, I feel as if I am in a movie.  I watch, as cattle are herded toward Nairobi.  The Maasai men, pushing them along, urging them that food is near.  The cattle are worn and thin.  Weary from long travels.  I notice the landscape is quickly changing.

The grass is no longer green, but brown.

Joshua sits beside me and explains how the cattle are dying.  The land is too dry.  "we have lost our hope" he says.  "something must be done, but there is no solution."  I feel sorry that he is thinking this way.  I do not yet quite understand.

(If you look closely at this picture, you can see a giraffe.  It is VERY far away though)

I listen as he explains that they could collect water in the mountains and pump it down, but it would cost too much.  I ask "how much?"  

"too much."

argh...

"HOW much?"

"Oh billions of dollars."

Gulp.

The land is getting more and more dry.  I look back toward Nairobi and suck in my breath.  You can see where it has rained and you can see where it has not.  It is quite literally like a line in the sand.  I feel emotion start to rise up in me and have to take deep breaths to keep from completely losing it.

The zebra grazing causes a quick and surprising distraction for us.  Our excitement fizzles as we continue to drive.

I wish I could express the feeling that washed over me as we hit a back road.  We could barely see through the dust and had to cover our faces even though the windows were closed.  My deep breathing fails me and I start to weep, my face turned to the window so nobody will see.  The reality of this drought that I knew nothing about, is harsh and painful to face.  I see where Joshua's hope has started to dwindle.  Where he sees no solution to a problem that grows with each passing day there is no rain.  

The cattle have become scarce.  

We pass through a town, Jaciado.  There are willow trees, but nothing else.  I question their ability to survive.  Joshua tells me they don't need much water, they survive for a very long time.  I am perplexed.  I tell him that in the states, willow trees prefer wet places.  It is the opposite here.  There is a part of me that allows hope to scratch at my brain.  Maybe the water is closer to the surface than they think and the willows survive off of that.  

I look up and see cattle.  We are stopped, mid-town, waiting for them to move.  Barnabas blows his horn in encouragement.  The cows can't even expend enough energy to look in his direction. They have sunken into an irreversible lethargic state.  We navigate our way between them. Bones with skin on top, they just stand or lie on the ground, waiting to die, but even that might take too much energy.