by Pat Larkin
In 2006 I went on a mission trip with Rick Warren’s Saddleback Church to Kenya, Africa with a large group of people including my wife, Kris and four other members of our small group. For those of you not aware; a small group is in one way, a bible study group but mostly, it’s a “doing life together” group. We are a group of very closing connected friends who started out as only a bible study group and God grew us from there! This day we were the Pokot village in northwestern Kenya. The Pokots had just gotten connected to the golden African commodity; water. Our purpose in going to the village was to help them plant a grove of mango trees so they would have a cash crop in a few years now that they had the water to nurture them. Planting he mango trees was in addition to our normal procedure of bringing sister Freda and her traveling medical clinic, eye and eyeglasses clinic and an HIV/Aids education team.
This day we drove across more streams, without incident and across the rough terrain. We continued to pass people walking along the road; more and more people. Now, rather than just a lone person walking with his goat, there were groups of two, four six and ten; group after group. What was going on? As we turned around a bend in the road, we came upon a tiny village that was apparently some sort of market for these folks . . . that’s where they were going! As we drove out of town, we came upon another site that was becoming fairly common; a pickup truck driving down the dirt road at about 40 miles an hour, loaded with people. People standing up in the bed of the truck, hanging off of the sides and standing on the bumper! I guess this falls under the same theory of how many people can you get in a cab in Kenya? Answer: Always, one more! Raising our own plume of dust, we drove into the truck/taxi’s dust cloud to pass them on the right (remember, they drive on the wrong side of the road here) as we went by, a chorus of “JAMBO!” (pronounced “JOMBO!”) came from their multitude of smiling faces and none of them saying it at quite the same time as anyone else. But, we got it: “GREETINGS!” As I have said numerous times about this place . . . the people here are wonderful!
We continued down the road another mile or two taking in the scenery. By this time, we have become separated from our leader; Pastor Steve and Stonik, his driver. Suddenly, we saw their Green Land Cruiser with all of the empty 5 gallon water bottles tied to the back and they had pulled off to the side of the road. Pastor Steve was standing outside of their vehicle looking very intent and very worried. As we approached, everyone in our Land Cruiser picked up on Steve’s body language; “what is going on?” Then we see colors, and . . . people . . . and more; bright colors and more and more people. As we pulled to a stop, Pastor Steve came over toward our vehicle and yelled; “stay in the vans, don’t get out . . . let me see what is going on here!” Just as he said that I began to see more people, African people coming out of the bushes toward us. They are all carrying spears and branches and sticks – Oh my! Spears and branches and sticks – Oh my! As they come toward us I saw more and more color; vibrant color and bells ringing to an African beat.
My mind immediately went to Bugs Bunny in the giant stew pot with the fire burning below! More color, more people, more spears and branches and sticks – Oh my! Then, Steve finally shouted, “it’s OK, get out of your vans, let’s go!” Part of me said no way and the photographer in me said this is too cool to miss!! We bailed out as did the other 5 or six vans full of Saddleback folks and we began walking toward the village. Then I heard Steve tell us that this is Pokot. Or, actually the village is down that dirt road a half a mile or so and they want us to walk with them. I looked up and there were Pokot people everywhere; coming toward us and mixing and mingling with us. Some would take our hands and others would nod to us and say, ”JAMBO!” and motion for us to come with them. When I got out of the land Cruiser, I think I was about 50/50 fear and excitement, but with these people greeting us with their smiles and songs, what fear I may have had quickly melted away.
They walked us along the road toward the village and as we walked they began; first one and then five and pretty soon nearly all of the Pokots were dancing us into the village. To a very African beat da-t-t-t-da, da-t-t-t-da, da-t-t-t-da, the rhythm was accentuated by the homemade (everything here is homemade) bells strapped to their ankles, they danced the da-t-t-t-da and the bells sounded also. then their voices chimed in with something that sounded like Ah-eh-ya with the “eh” being the higher note of the three and this was the chorus to whatever they were singing. Someone would sing some words and then they would all chime in with this chorus; “ah-eh-ya, ah-eh-ya,” While all this was going on I couldn’t help but look around through this crowd. There were lots of our people intermingled with the Pokots and the Pokots walking, dancing and smiling. There was Emerson holding hands on both sides of him with Pokot women . . . he made it . . . Emerson was definitely out of his comfort zone! The visual alone was almost too much to take . . . it was certainly too much to take it all in. I would look one direction and see a woman with a bright colored straw collar around her neck. It fit like a plate with a hole in the middle extending out from her neck about 6 to 8 inches and colored with bright oranges, yellows and purples.
Many of the women had beautiful feathers either connected to their clothing, in their hair or as a headdress or they simply carried them in their hands. I would look in another direction and see an older woman with about ten holes in her ears as if from numerous piercings years and years ago. Now the holes had drooped with her skin and the large oblong holes resulted. At that moment a fleeting bit of perspective came to me; suddenly, my daughter Bree’s eyebrow piercing and ear bar weren’t quite so unacceptable! What an incredible range of emotion; from fear and concern when I first got out of the land Cruiser to total exuberance at the over-the-top welcome the Pokots had prepared for us! They continued to dance us in; and with every 2 or 3 feet that we traveled the fervor of the crowd seemed to grow; almost scary but too cool to worry about. Now as they sang: “ah-eh-ya, ah-eh-ya, ah-eh-ya,” and danced to the rhythm: da-t-t-t-da, da-t-t-t-da, da-t-t-t-da, one by one they began to jump to the beat . . . I mean jump to the beat; each of them jumping 2 to 3 feet off the ground! This went on for a couple of minutes, all the while we are still making progress toward the village and then the JUMP/STOMP started.
They would jump 2 to 3 feet off the ground as before but, just before their feet would come back down to the ground, they would thrust them down, slamming them onto the earth . . . literally the ground would shake . . . and then you get three or four of them doing it and oh-my-gosh! Leading the jump/stomp was, who I later learned, was one of the chiefs of the village. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, tall, lanky and very muscular. I wonder where their 24 hour fitness is?! Actually, this guy is the real deal; muscles earned the hard way! He wore an electric yellow skin tight tank top emblazoned with “Brazil Football” on the front which, by the way, matched his yellow lensed Oakley sunglasses all above a kilty sort of skirt and sandals. He had on necklaces and bracelets and a headdress holding his unusually long brown and . . . wait and minute . . . . streaked blond hair? This guy looks like he’s from Hollywood! Oh-My-Gosh, that’s not streaked hair . . . that’s a monkey pelt . . . on his head! Chief Monkey Pelt!! Then I looked again and there was David from our team JUMPING and STOMPING right there with the best of them and; next to Monkey Pelt! We continued on, dancing and singing and jumping and stomping, with each of them waving their branches full of green leaves to the beat: da-t-t-t-da, da-t-t-t-da, which I perceived overwhelmingly, like these were olive branches (hey, maybe they were!) offered to us in peace. They also danced with their staffs (what I earlier saw as spears (goofball) going up and down to the beat. These people (the African people) are all about music and rhythm; it is a HUGE piece of their soul! The entire group of us was like one big organism, gyrating and dancing and singing to the same cadence over and over and over. Finally we reached the village; that was fun, let’s do it again!!!
It was during this frenzied march that was able to run ahead of the crowd and shoot this picture:
Pokot Welcome.
Excerpt from Pat Larkin’s book: “When You Say Yes to god . . . He May Just Send You on a Mission Trip” A Photojournalistic Adventure. |
