Superwomen Askaris

Maybe I should explain the title first: Askari means night watchmen or soldier or ranger here. (One of the super cool things about Swahili is that there are far less words so every Swahili word means multiple things) Every night, I have an askari at the house to watch for poachers, thieves, and probably mostly the orphan elephant mentioned in a previous entry. Well, I am particularly fond of one askari (they rotate every week because some stations on the ranch are worse than others). His name is Ally and he is always happy. I had no clue that he knew any English, but earlier this week when he arrived and wanted to ask for the radio he announced, “Superman in the house!” I laughed, and laughed, and laughed. So now, I call him Superman. When he says, “Habari Bekah,” I reply, “Habari Superman!” (Habari is ‘How is’ or ‘What news’)

So now, on with the story… Last night I thought I would experience the grief of the farmers participating in my study. Rose, the project employee, has been sleeping near her field of corn at night because there has been a lot of bush pig damage and during the night not too long ago, one of these ugly beasts entered her field and left footprints. She has been awfully tired during the interviews and always seems to want to come back early. Instead of getting frustrated by this, I thought if I was in a similar situation perhaps I wouldn’t feel like I needed to get more work done. On Sundays, Rose does not work and therefore I go to the waterhole to search for elephants. It is usually a relaxing day for me as I bring my MP3 player and a book and just chill. If there are elephants, the adrenaline rushing through my body is enough to conquer any feeling of sleepiness. So, why not put myself in Rose’s shoes for a night? After all, the villagers have been telling me that if I want to study crop damage, I should work at night when the crops are damaged! Rose came to my house around 6:30 last night and we feasted on beans and rice. We needed a nice heavy meal to keep us warm for the duration of our askari shift. Around 10:00, we were on our way to her garden with blankets and thermoses full of chai. I must remind you that already this was 1.5 hours past my normal bedtime (I rise and set with the sun here). Rose thought we could take a short cut and not far into our journey, we stopped because there was a crunching sound and no light from people. Rose demanded “torchi kubwa!” (big flashlight!). I quickly got my magnificent Mag-lite out of my backpack to discover the source of the crunching. There were 6 elephants feasting on some tomatoes. I kind of was tempted to stay and observe them but then we heard crunching on the other side of the path. Sure enough, there were 4 more elephants and all of them were facing our path. At this point, I decided it was safer to bail on my initial curiosity and we scurried back the way we came to take the long way around!

When we arrived at Rose’s garden, I was pleasantly surprised to see a shelter built for us with a fire already glowing. Rose explained that her brother-in-law had built it for us because the wind was so bad. How thoughtful! As we began our shift, it was easy to pass the time with stories of that day (see surrounding entries!). I admit I experience a heightened sense of hearing thinking that the rustle of the corn stalks may be an intruder waiting for us to pounce. Luckily, it was mostly the notorious wind and we actually didn’t see any bushpigs. At one point we heard a fellow askari (watchmen) laughing and enjoying somebody’s company from quite far away. I thought we should compete so I let out a loud “WA-HA-HA-HA,” which got Rose started and then once we settled down we could hear the reply from a distant field. Soon all the askaris were joining in our cheerful chorus. I began yelling to the elephants in broken Swahili, “Leave our crops alone! They aren’t ripe yet- they aren’t sweet at all.” Of course, it made Rose laugh all the more which is always a good thing. I wasn’t sure if it was because my Swahili was so bad or if she was just happy, but nonetheless, we were enjoying ourselves and she was happy not to be there alone. The next field over, apparently the owner has forced her dog to be the askari and we were accompanied the entire night by the whining and crying of the poor soul. After we quieted down, I began to take in the whole experience. There was no moon until early morning and of course, the stars were magnificent. It was one of those moments where suddenly you realize how small you are. Around 12:30, Rose’s brother-in-law stopped by. He was just arriving at his field which was the next one over. Rose quickly handed over the magnificent Mag-lite and explained that we didn’t have to fight sleep any longer. So, I didn’t and before I knew it, it was 4:30 and I woke up to see a quarter moon illuminating our little shelter. I walked the field a few times, drank some chai, stoked the fire, peed a few times and was really enjoying that Rose was soundly sleeping (selfishly, I was thinking of how efficient we could be!). Around 6:15, one of Rose’s friends stopped by. He woke Rose up and we chatted for about an hour and then the shift was over. The beasts weren’t active in Rose’s garden but it didn’t take long for us to hear about who had experienced what problems that night. Even though the people passing by really thought it was a hoot that I was a mazungu askari, I feel bonded to the people that I am studying here now that I have been in Rose’s shoes.

This is Mt. Meru with the first light of the sunrise coming on it. I can only say the picture doesn't do it justice!