150 Cows

Good news, I got like my 20^th marriage proposal. However, this one may forever take the cake. My dowry is 150 cows.

So in a village in Karatu I found myself only speaking Swahili and surprisingly faring pretty well. In case you’re wondering, there’s nothing as charming to a Maasai man as a conservatively dressed white girl attempting to converse in Swahili.

He told me if I married him, the dowry would be 150 cows. Fifty cows for my long hair. Forty cows for a neck like a giraffe. Another twenty cows for my voice.

1.     These are some quality compliments.

2.     I should probably explain that cows are currency in Maasai villages. I should also say that 150 cows is like….a lot of cows.

3.     Dowries aren’t exactly what you would think.

Of course, in the most articulate way, I tried to explain that I wasn’t for sale. He nodded knowingly and proceeded to explain that I wasn’t for sale, but I was worth more than just a man who said he wanted to marry me. It wasn’t a transaction. He promised to thank my parents.

This was a wonderfully eye-opening perspective of cultural differences in relationships, perceptions on value and attempts at cross-cultural communication. Sorry to let you all down, but at the end of the day I said no.

But I think I've raised my standards.