fws team blog

It's about midday on a humid, hot Sunday, that cranky sun overhead is broken by tall canopy trees and around us the village sounds we are used to are replaced by the humming and chattering of this pocket of natural forest. Not too far below us we can hear the sound of running water and almost immediately the air feels cooler. Karen and I walk together with Onesmo, who has decided to come for a Sunday walk, down into the gorge that splits high dry maasai farms from the smaller, lush shambas we pass each day on the road leading to the childrens' village.
Today we are visiting some of the workers' families to take pictures as a present for christmas; last year fws gave everyone a portrait of themselves on the jobsite and everyone was so thrilled that this year we decided to offer family photos as well. I have volunteered to wander from house to house (Couldn't think of a nicer way to spend a day) and lovely Karen (fws nurse) is coming along to meet some of the families of the men and women we work with.
We are on our way to visit Gaudens, already we have been to Hussein, Onesmo and Glady, Omari, Anton and also Roger, later we will go to Daudi's and then Simon's as well as setting up a backdrop at Kesho Leo where other people have arranged to meet us for their photos.
We take off our shoes and half rock jump, half wade across the creek and climb up the dry rocky slope past cows and goats, watched over by a maasai muslim woman dressed in her beautiful blue hijab. This starts a conversation about religion and maasai culture, Onesmo tells me that maasai culture does not dictate religion, it depends on the family. As we climb Onesmo is also telling me about the different native trees here and what uses they have, this one for tummy ache, the bark of this one for tea. From the other side of the gorge we hear high-pitched arguments between kids and shrill laughter, I think some little someone over there is the butt of a joke. At the very top we arrive at the terraces of Gaudens shamba. His maize has grown since I last visited, but really needs some rain some time soon. Still it's a luminous green compared to the dry, flat landscape behind his boma.
There is an assortment of kids and chooks under the shade trees in the middle of the boma. Gaudens and his wife and their little daughter Vero meet us at the gate and welcome us in. Vero is still a bit tentative, I am the second white person she has ever seen, Corky was the first. She hovers uncertainly as Gaudens surpises us with a yummy lunch of mkande (Beans, maize and coconut milk) and then disappears to get changed into clean clothes for his photos. He reappears dressed in a safi blue shirt and has dressed little Vero in yellow, all of a sudden I realise that the family is now perfectly colour coordinated and Gaudens proudly picks up little Vero and grins at us. Ready for their safi family picture!

One of the best things about today has been the chance to see the men that we work with and know as tough, hard working labourers at home with their families. To see them as proud fathers, loving husbands, to see their farms and houses that they have built or are still building for their families, often with materials bought with the fws savings plan. One of our askaris Daudi, usually very serious and stern, came to Kesho Leo twice to make sure that we could come to his house to take a photo of his little baby daughter and his wife, his face lit up as he posed for a picture with them. It's such a great thing to be working along side our neighbors every day, to be invited into their homes, to meet wives, children, to feel welcomed into this small community. I knew that I was coming here to be part of a project that would help vulnerable women and children but I didn't expect to have such an opportunity to get to know so many local families through the men that are building Kesho Leo. To them I just want to say hongera (Congratulations) and thanks.