Written on Jan 22nd.
We had just arrived in the Masai tribe, the poorest people group group I have ever seen. Yet the moment made me turn to my teammate, Elly, and asked her to pinch me because I was sure I’d wake up any minute. We had arrived in the Masai tribe the night before and the pastor and leaders of the tribe told us that because we must be tired from travel and setting up tents that we wouldn’t have fellowship and be allowed to rest for the night (it was 11pm at this point). But from this point on, he declared there would be no more resting, and sure enough, tonight’s fellowship (aka tribal dance party) lasted over 3 hours. They plugged their keyboard and mics into the generator we brought along and soon kenyan tribal music blasted from the speakers and the words were sung (yelled) by the worship team. The rest of the tribe danced in unison, performing moves I was sure my body would not perform. Men, women, and children came together, dancing with a joy that you’d never expect from members of such a poor, rural tribe. They sang (the translator told me) of thankfulness, and prayed that God might bless them with long life. Pictures are worth a thousand words but to me no photo or description could ever capture those moments. As we prepare for day 4 in Masai land, we’re told that we fellowship every night. Guess that means I have a couple of weeks to practice my dance moves so the tribal 5 year olds aren’t still out dancing me by the time we leave.
