Krewe of Boo

Early in the year, Maren asked Deb to plan to fly to New Orleans for the Krewe of Boo parade, an event established only in 2007 as the city's "official" Halloween event.  Maren likes it better than the Mardi Gras parades─fewer people, more intimate, and before we knew it, the entire family planned to attend.  Thursday morning we took Groome to PDX

and that evening were in N.O.  The parade was scheduled for Saturday, several days away; in the meantime, we wandered, enjoying the city as we always have.

Deb found an exciting band: Doreen Ketchens, 

and some unusual friends.

I wandered through antiques stores on Royal street and found M.S. Rau, which had some remarkable artifacts: a chess set for only $1,985,000; not old but lovely─each piece an automaton.  According to the placard placed with it, the set required 14,000 hours of work over ten years to build.

Rau had items similar to some I have, with prices I found hard to believe.  It had several kids' rides in pristine condition, including a Bally police motorcycle that in the day cost 10 cents to ride; today it will cost you only $55,000.

We stopped at a cigar factory.  Deb bought a package for friends.

We ate at some outstanding restaurants─at outstanding prices.  At Antoine's, the baked Alaska stood out,

as did their wine cellar.

Established in 1840 and thus the oldest restaurant in New Orleans, Antoine's has fed celebrities such as George Bush, Bill Clinton, Franklin Roosevelt, Pope John Paul II, Brad Pitt, Bruce Willis, Tom Cruise, Kate Hudson, Jimmy buffet, Whoopi Goldberg, Bob Hope, Bing Crosby and now the Johnsons and Bollingers, to name just a few.

We spent a good deal of time sitting around catching up; the first time since Covid struck that we have all gotten together.

Saturday evening rolled around and we established spots on the parade route.

Deb had purchased her parade hat.

So had Matthew.

And the parade rolled on.  As they say: Laissez les Bons Temps Rouler; floats, 

bands,

horses,

and of course, the horse pooper scooper, with a special Halloween message.

Beads were thrown, of course (with no flashing that I saw), as well as souvenir plastic cups, candy, Chee-Wees, pralinettes, light-up medallion beads, voodoo doll pins and magnets, packages of coffee, doubloons, and children's toys.  According to the web site, "Krewe of Boo throws are all collectable or consumable, which cuts back on waste."  The kids in the crowd picked up the beads and edibles, and I dodged a few items I could not identify that flew at my head until fell into my hands the only item I kept, a 5-inch stuffed pumpkin skeleton, my only souvenir of the weekend, except for the memories.

Balloon Over Africa

 At the Maasai Mara National Reserve early one morning we assembled for a balloon ride. 

A slight breeze at launch caused the balloon to drag and bump across the uneven ground until we achieved flight.

In the East the sun was rising; we were headed west.

Our pilot had a selfie-stick.

The basket held about a dozen passengers. Deb and I are on the right.

We passed over only a few animals but the ride was fun.

 The landing was as rough as the launch.

Deb is still in the basket, waiting for those on the lower level to get out.

Then the crew started wrapping everything up to prepare for tomorrow's launch.

For our adventure, we received a certificate, as they say, “suitable for framing.”

  

Maasai Village Visit

Our tour company arranged a visit to a traditional Maasai village.  (Our guide called such sites “tourist villages.”) As we drove up, we were greeted with song and dance by men of the village wearing Maasai garb. 

The red plaid robe is called an alkarasha.

One blew notes on a traditional horn.

The men took turns at the adumu dance, the jumping dance performed by the morani, or young warriors and protectors of the village, who perform the adumu for initiations, rites of passage, and weddings. The dance is a competition, whereby the moran who jumps highest receives the greatest esteem and bragging rights for his display of strength and masculinity. 

Tourists were invited to join in, and Deb accepted the challenge.

The village elder brought out his lion headdress and let Deb try it on.  In the past, Maasai boys proved their manhood by killing a lion—killing lions is now illegal; the headdress was so old most of the fur had worn off.

We were invited inside the boma—the fence of sticks and poles that surround the village—and inside one of the houses.

The houses are made of sticks and poles and plastered with cow dung.

The village we visited had two elders, brothers, one with eight wives and one with seven.  Traditionally, prestige among Maasai is determined by the number of children a man has and the number of cattle.  There were 75 people living in the village, we were told, wives and children of the elders.  When a man takes a wife, he brings her to his village and with the help of the women of the village, she builds her own house.  The house we visited had three main rooms: a sleeping room for the wife (and husband when he visited), one for the children, a central room for cooking and other activities and several smaller rooms.   I was told that the houses last about ten years before they need to be rebuilt. 

The villagers were dressed in finery and posed for the tourists.

When we came out of the house, the men put on a demonstration I had never been convinced worked: rubbing sticks together to start a fire.

But sure enough, by spinning the olive stick in a hole in the board, they started a fire in less time than it takes to tell about it. 

And then they offered to sell us fire-starter kits for US$20, and also other Maasai crafts and jewelry.  A villager told me they entertain five to ten tour groups every day.

We returned to our lodging at Mara Leisure Camp where we were housed in tents, luxurious compared to the traditional Maasai homes.