The Masai

In morning light, beyond Mbeya settlement, beside the road they waited for our bus approaching from the east. The independent Masai rarely used the bus, and our driver was uncertain. He slowed to stop just past their place and as he passed loud ululation did they raise. The warriors chased behind the bus with spears upraised. The driver, fearful, hit the gas and as we leapt away the spears went down and so he slowed. Up came the spears again, again he hit the gas to flee. We played this game until the spears remained at rest and then the Maasai came aboard. The warriors tall, red cow dung in their plaited hair, rough cotton cloaks with clubs and spears. The women, children on their backs, had hair close cropped and at their necks bright ornament. They laughed and chattered as they sat, but warriors sat most somberly, stone faced, straight backed, unmoving with their spears held tight. Some distance on we stopped to let the Maasai off. Women and children tumbled down still laughing gaily as they left. The warriors stern and silent still, strode down the steps and as their feet touched to the ground they turned and spat upon the bus to show contempt for modern things, despite their use