Village In Bubble

I'm not sure if it was a tourist exhibit village, or a village ..village...that for ages existed, in the midst of nowhere. No roads lead to the place, just dirt tracks, the driver followed to reach the destination. Under the shade of an acacia tree, we were made to wait, sitting on narrow wooden logs, roughly hewed, to resemble benches. With a great flourish, the Chief of the village, accompanied by his group, in full regalia welcomed us with the traditional dance.

Gentle steps keeping to the beat of the drums, the sound carried by the breeze over an expanse of flat land. That over, we were invited into the village, fenced off by acacia branches dug into the soil. Visit the Masai Mara village in Kenya was a rude awakening! Felt like slipping back to the stone ages. And yes, they still rub Flintstones to create a fire for cooking meals. Yes, they still live in hutments, crudely put together with caked mud, branches and whatever the environment offers. The village headsman shared the history of their clan.. all four generations co-existing in peace and in harmony. We didn't take a head count, but probably fifty of them, one or the other way blood related, living a life frozen in a time capsule unbroken. A tribe that hasn't moved with the times.