We walked for water, which I determined was a job for female tribe members. The men and young boys herded their cattle and goats down into the valley, watching over them carefully. So why were Damu and myself allocated to duties with the women and girls, I didn’t have a clue. Not that I minded. Hearing the laughter and songs of the woman ahead of us, and the walk itself, were beautiful. And the river water was the closest thing to a bath or shower as I would get, so once Damu had collected his bucket full of water, I went downstream a little way, stripped off to my underwear and went in. I figured drinking the water yesterday hadn’t ill-affected me in anyway, so it had to be okay. I was sure to be quick though, not wanting to anger Kijani if we were late again. I didn’t think I’d broken any Maasai rules about stripping down and swimming in their river. Damu never insisted I stop. In fact, he laughed at me when I shook my hair like a dog. I didn’t need to speak Maa to understand a few universal things: smiles and laughter were good; glaring, yelling and pointing a spear at my head was bad.
