We celebrated New Year’s Day today. I think it is probably a bit unlike how we normally celebrate in America, although in some ways, it is the same. Last night, we had one family of our team over. We grilled chicken, played games, and visited until about 11:00—very late for us. (We knew there would be no sleeping in this morning!) Past New Year’s Eves, we have acquired fireworks (during the Hindu Diwali festival in November), and set them off on the open plains near our home. The first year that we set off fireworks, we neglected to inform our neighbors about it. They heard the noise, saw the lights, and assumed that either a hostile local tribe was invading or the police were surrounding them. In fear, they all hid in the bushes or took off running to hide in the next village. The next day, they found out about our fireworks and all got a good laugh at their own fright. The following years however, we let them know in advance about our fireworks and let them join us on the plains to watch the event. They all thoroughly enjoyed it. Unfortunately, this year we were unable to get the fireworks for our annual celebration, and our neighbors were disappointed!
So, we had a nice, quiet subdued New Year’s Eve, with three boys yelling and screaming and running around the house… until about 8:30. In the morning, as we were making coffee, pancakes and bacon, we heard some bells off in the distance. Kip looked outside our window and saw a group of people approaching our house. It was the annual Christmas Dancers! (albeit a week late). There is a custom here during Christmas Day, which we were unable to participate in, since we were celebrating down-country with my parents. The community decided to celebrate New Year’s Day with us, instead.
Around 7:30 this morning, we heard bells approaching. And the custom is this: a group of people from a community or church will gather together and “carol” (i.e. sing and dance) to the homes in the local community, in the hopes of being given some “figgy pudding” (i.e. food and money). It is really quite interesting to watch. They bundle up into a tight group. The women, especially the old ones, will wear their cow-skin skirts and carry cow-tail switches. As they approach the host, they will swing the switch over the person’s head and face (like a cow flicking away flies), in a kind of blessing. The younger men like to wear army-type outfits, and look like a rag-tag guerilla band. For this kind of dancing, they carry walking sticks instead of guns (thankfully), and parade around (still in the tight group) like army scouts. Many of them wear goat bells around their ankles (hence the sound we first heard), and they like to wear socks with the feet cut out (this year, a gang of them had red-and-white striped socks up to their knees-- they looked like Dr. Seuss characters!). The old men, like the women, wear traditional outfits, often with their wedding caps on—red and white caps with ostrich feathers in them; feathers which have been passed down from father to son. This year, the old men did not participate in the dancing; rather, they sat under a shade tree and watched; I don’t blame them.
There were three groups this morning; one from each of the three churches in this area. They danced and sang for about half an hour. We went outside to watch and be blessed with cow switches. When we first came to Turkana, we danced with them; now we just watch. They sang songs about Jesus’ birth, but they sure don’t sound like the Christmas carols we’re familiar with! Then, each group sat down under a piece of shade and waited for us to come greet them. Kip, ever the joker in Turkana, asked them why they had come. They answered, “Because of the birth of Jesus.”
“But Christmas was celebrated last week; it’s over now,” Kip replied.
“Yes, but Jesus is in our hearts all year long,” was the quick retort. Kip couldn’t argue with that. We gave each group some money, which they were very alakara (happy) about. Kip gave the group of old men some tobacco (a very nice gift for an old man, although we don’t advocate the use of it). Then, each group stood up, made a tight band again, and marched off singing “thank you Jesus” songs. They waved their arms and sticks in farewell to us, and it reminded me of the children in Sound of Music singing goodnight. And that was all before 9:00 in the morning!