My husband Bob and I visited Tawi Lodge during our honeymoon in Kenya. Located on a conservancy of the same name, right outside of Amboseli National Park, we had no shortage of animal sightings, both on the safaris that took up most of our days, and right from the windows of our cottage. On the third day of our stay, our guide, Pilipili, had scheduled a visit to Lemongo Village, which has a partnership with the lodge. At first, we were hesitant to engage in what we originally saw as poverty tourism, but Pilipili assured us that this would not only be an educational experience for us, but essential to the income of the Maasai people who lived there.

The groups that visited were usually much larger than the two of us who showed up, but that didn’t hamper the energetic demonstration. They sang, danced, and prayed, draping us in beaded necklaces and other colorful, jingling adornments as villagers grabbed us each by the hand and encouraged us to jump and chant along. We were then given a tour of the small village, shown how to make a Maasai fire, and welcomed into one of the mud-walled, straw-roofed homes. At the end, we were escorted down two rows of women selling everything beaded, wood-carved, and hand-painted, displayed on colorful blankets. The Maasai warrior leading our tour of two would stop at every blanket and put a beaded bracelet on my wrist, or hold a small ironwood rhinoceros up for me to admire, but I eventually had to gently decline his suggestions, feeling bad that I couldn’t buy something from everyone.

We bought our souvenirs and said our goodbyes, respectful of the hustle, but relieved to be out of such a pressured purchase situation. We passed a group of three small children on the road, who called out to us and waved. I snapped a picture as we waved back and drove onward to our lodge.

Back at the lodge, we washed up and got ready to enjoy some downtime drinking wine and enjoying the view of the elephants at the watering hole in the lodge’s backyard. About two sips in, Bob turned to me and asked “Did that little kid ask us for water?” My heart sank at the realization. A small child asked us directly for a basic need, and we smiled and drove away.

I knew I couldn’t enjoy the rest of my trip without correcting this error. I asked to borrow the phone of one the lodge staff to call Pilipili, and explained what had happened. He was on his break, but did not hesitate to get back into the safari vehicle and help us track the child down. He said they were from the village we had just left, so after we didn’t find them on the road, we ended up back there, handing out beverages from our safari vehicle to a rapidly growing crowd of children. Once we ran out of drinks, Bob was about to start handing out cash, when Pilipili stopped him and suggested we buy them groceries instead. One of the women, Sindie, climbed up into our vehicle and rode with us to the closest store, which would normally have been a two hour walk away. This seems especially impossible in light of the multiple 30-pound sacks of food we hauled back with us to the village.

Once we got back, it was like the whole village came out to greet us. Women were taking the necklaces off of their necks and draping them around ours. Sindie ran back to her home to get me a bracelet. We got lots of hugs, handshakes, and smiles. This second visit was much more fulfilling than the first.

In light of current events, I’ve been checking in with friends all over the world, as we all have. Pilipili informed me that the village was suffering due to the lack of tourism, and people were going hungry. I wired money to him immediately, and he responded with images of the food he was able to purchase. As I don’t currently have income, I was trying to think of a creative way to help the village get through this, and remembered the portraits I had taken of some of them. With their permission, I am selling prints of these images, along with others from the safari portion of our trip.

Pilipili is also Maasai, and told us that his tribe is known for being welcoming and generous. They share what little they have, and are happy without the materialism that has been ingrained into many Westerners. Since this pandemic started, I’ve been asking myself what I can do to help, and the answer seemed to be simultaneously so much, and so little. During this time when so much is uncertain and out of our control, I am grateful to have this direct action as a focus. Thank you for helping me help Lemongo Village!!!