Next stop was the school. No, that’s not a government school. The Maasai school. Although I bet they built it just to herd in the kids when tourists are coming. Because that’s what we want to see: kids in schools and not running free.
There were few benches, a donation box and a chalkboard. On the chalkboard – English and Swahili alphabets written. And kids looking blankly at it. There is no written language in Maasai culture.
They don’t have books, they never tried to draw pictures to tell stories. All the information has always been passed orally. And if it can’t be passed orally than there’s no need to do so in the first place.
But for the tourists’ sake, the kids were given broken pencils and crumpled paper, on which some were scribbling something diligently.
However, the whole schooling experience was better written on that kid’s face (to the left), than ever described on paper.
And just like in any class, you always get the ‘smart pants’ up in the front row…
… and the gang that hangs out at the back.
As I was playing with the girls, she laughed and hugged me with her tiny little arm. Looking at the camera screen she saw her face for the first time.