It's tradition

• we were invited to a traditional party at Philip's home (the Kenyan chairman of Nuru)
• Gilbert, his son, made a special soup to honor his paternal grandma
• Aerie and I tried it

Philip's wife and son made it to Isibania last weekend to visit due to his son, Gilbert, being on break from university.  Philip invited us to his home on Saturday to visit with them and experience some Kurian culture.

(Note: I've added pictures to the bottom of the posts, including older ones, so you can see what pictures I've added to my Kenya album with each post.  Click on the pictures to see a bigger version or click on the right as usual to get to the album.  The pictures don't always relate to the post.  In fact, these pictures are of the house we moved into, the one next door that is more finished, as requested by Sarah.  Thanks again for the tip!)

One of the important customs for the Kurian people is the acknowledgement of the elders, especially within the family.  The elders need to know that they will be cared for by their younger relatives as they age and can't support themselves.  It's like returning the favor for helping to raise them.

Gilbert, Philip's son, had a secondary goal to his visit to Isibania.  Gilbert is beginning the process of showing respect to his elders.  In Kurian culture, it involves the serving of a special soup that Gilbert spent a full day preparing.  Gilbert will serve the soup to a special honored guest as an act of devotion.  This time he was serving it to his paternal grandmother.

The soup is basically a broth that is boiled all day long over an open fire in what looked like a cauldron.  Goat is used for the broth itself and it's mostly bones, including the skull, with a little touch of blood.  Yeah, blood.  The soup is considered a delicacy and only served on special occasions.  Even though the soup was made for the honored guest, everyone that is present is allowed to take some, albeit less than Gilbert's grandma.

Aerie and I were offered the chance to try the soup.  We weren't really sure what to expect so we asked for ki dogo (a little) and promised we would come back for more, although neither of us did.  It was actually quite good.  It tasted pretty much like you would expect a broth made from bones to taste.  You couldn't tell there was blood or skull remnants in it.

We found out later that Gilbert would have to do this again three more times, next for his maternal grandmother, then his father, and finally his mother.  If his grandfathers were alive, they would have their own soups as well.  It was an awesome experience to see Gilbert serving his grandmother the symbolic soup.  I felt honored to be invited to the ceremony and even get to try some out.

ten new pictures