In a journey full of epic drives, one of the most epic was from the Rift Valley escarpment to Tuum. It was an all day affair that started at 10am after our hike ended. There was a more direct route but it’s in rough shape and twice our guide has driven it and said “never again”. The second time he meant it. So we took a longer ‘faster’ route. Some six or seven hours later we arrived. This day was truly my baptism into African overlanding and I think the day prior we drove five to six hours!! There is a reason you don’t find other tourists where we’re going.
At best we probably covered 20 or 30 miles an hour. The gravel sandy roads are simply that rough. For walking and driving in these parts no one quotes distance, only time. We went up over and over a stunning range then headed almost directly north to Tuum, a Samburu village. People, cars were few and far between. Towns were left behind and it would now only be tribal villages for days and days and days.
We stopped in a village not far from Tuum called Baragoi. In our parked Land Cruiser we became an instant roadside attraction. People, and obviously kids in particular, are fascinated by Hazel. I’m sure many of them have never seen a white kid. At one point two young girls in full tribal get-up were pressed up against her window. I’m as fascinated by them as they are by her.
We picked up a young Turkana man called Reuben who would be another guide and helper for several days. He really endeared himself to all of us. Most Kenyans have a Christian name, which is how they introduce themselves to us, and a tribal/local name. Reuben’s other name is Losokol.
After a restful night in Tuum, we left early for the hour long rough-rough drive to Parkati, the Turkana village where Reuben was born and his family lives. The Turkana live in such remote, desolate parts of Kenya that they are sometimes called stone eaters. Throughout our journey we observed the deep relationships our guide Jean has across the region, and how he is intentionally cultivating relationships with the next generation. Jean had worked with Reuben’s father for many years, who was away from the village on this occasion.
In Parkati we felt we’d been truly welcomed into a rare and sacred space. It was the most primitive of villages, for lack of better words, full of pride, love, and customs. Though plans had been made before our arrival, the elders all convened with Jean for about 15 minutes once we showed up. Village decision making is done by elder (men) through consensus. In the meantime we soaked up our new surroundings. Jean helped us coordinate gifts for the village which was interestingly bags and bags of tobacco for men and women (hand delivered by us, literally hand to hand) and school notebooks for the kids.
We started by visiting Reuben’s mother and siblings. The kids couldn’t resist holding a baby goat. They make the sweetest sounds. Reuben’s father used to bike the 20km to the next village, back in the day. The bike is now a tree ornament. Justin was intrigued.
Then we visited the Parkati primary school. Funnily this showed up on our Gaia maps app, but not the village itself. English is Kenya’s official language. All schooling is done in English. Colonialism’s impacts are deep, wide and endless. Swahili is official too. In addition tribes have their own languages. They are oral only, not written. So English adorned the chalkboards and buildings. Kids really are the sweetest humans wherever you go. We all come into world innocent and playful.
Our visit wrapped with an extraordinary hour long ceremonial celebration dance. Apparently they don’t do it often and they love to do it. I totally get it. I love a good excuse to go dancing!! Every once in a while they would pull us into their dance circle. Hopefully the photos and videos do it justice. Some of the noise comes from bells and noisemakers tied to their knees and arms.
Bellies, heads and hearts full we collapsed back into the Land Cruiser and returned to Tuum.
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