Young Warriors

Moran trainees, originally uploaded by Boyznberry.

I was sitting outside, working on my computer, when these three young warriors passed through the compound.

Let me explain: For the past few weeks, young men all over Kenya have been going through initiation. Boys aged 12-18 are all expected to undergo this right of passage, called Moran/Warrior Training. City kids are often sent to villages like ours since these initiations aren't practiced as much in the city nowadays.

Different tribes have different traditions surrounding circumcision. (The most important part of the training is when the young men are circumcised.) For some tribes (like my immediate neighbors, the Kalenjin), women aren't allowed anywhere near the warriors, except to cook for them at night. But the Luya, another neighboring people group, allow women and children to attend ceremonies, even to watch the circumcision process. For Luya and Kalenjin both, a young man who as much as flinches during the actual cutting, is made out to be a coward. (It's OK to faint, though, as that is considered a response which you have no control over.)

At night, you can hear the warriors sing. Learning different tribal songs is a critical part of the initiation. There are some songs they'd never sing with women. And there are some of the teachings they'd never share with women, either.

The young men stay in the bush for up to a month. Other than learning songs and getting cut, they learn cultural things like how to help a cow give birth, how to kill snakes, and the various calls of the village. (For example, what the drum call sounds like when cows have been stolen, or a different call when someone's been bitten by a snake. With cell phones being everywhere, I'm not sure how often the calls are still used around here, though.)

There are different groups that do the teachings during the initiation. The young men in this picture are from a group of 16 warriors who are being trained across the river in the traditional style. Closer to our base, a Christian group of 8 is being trained, too, but they don't wear skins since the symbol of the skins is to say that we are merely animals. They cover themselves with bedsheets, instead, which looks rather odd. Not that the skins and sackcloth don't look odd.

During their initiation, the young men aren't supposed to interact much with outsiders. But I was sitting in my gazebo, working, when my colleague Michelle said, "Look behind you: The moran are passing by."

The group of three (plus their leader, a 20-some-year-old from the community) were walking along the river, just feet from where we were sitting. I ran into my house, grabbed the camera, and caught up with them further down the river.

"Do you mind if I took a picture?" I asked politely.

"But of course! Go ahead!" the shortest of the three replied. He promptly introduced himself as Bedwel, and told me that they've been living in the bush for 17 nights already. "Can you imagine?" he asked. His voice had not even broken yet. But he's slept in the bush for more than 2 weeks...

Over lunch hour, I hiked down the river to see if the young men were there. They were cutting palm branches along the river, and allowed me to take more pictures. Bedwel explained that they're camouflaged so that their mothers won't see (recognize) them. He also explained that they were curring the palm tree leaves to weave masks that they will wear during their coming-out party at the end of the month. That party turns out to be open to all. (Too bad that I'll be in South Africa when it happens!) But their moms can't recognize them at first since all that sticks out is their feet and their eyes.

I thanked them for sharing the stories with me, and was about to head back when Bedwel explained that they are very hungry. "Imagine! We have not eaten all day."

Not wanting to be culturally offensive or get them in trouble, I asked their guardian if I could give them bananas. (Bedwel had to translate since none of the others spoke English.) He had no problem with that. In fact, he, too, was probably hungry. I hiked back with some bananas, and Bedwel made sure to let me know, "We'll be passing by here again tomorrow and will be hungry again."

If I'm not at Hannah's, I'll be sure to give them some fruit again. And take some more pictures.

I know that many of the deep, deep cultural issues surrounding gender that I struggle with most in the village stem from some of the things the young men are taught during this month. I also know that this right of passage is good in many ways, but there are also bad things about it.

I will seek to learn more and share more with you.