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Published: April 7th 2015
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Worker housing
Lush green irrigated fields behind Last Hurrah
A mere 205k trip in our trusty truck takes us to our last campsite in Namibia on the banks of the Orange river. We've made it. Tomorrow we will cross the boarder into South Africa a far different country, far more developed, organized, populated, industrialized. We'll be back on the grid.
Driving toward our camp on the Orange River the dusty flat desert suddenly gives way to mile after mile of vivid green fields, so symmetrical and uniform in appearance it could only be big business, organized farming on a massive scale.
Suddenly next to the road, born of dust and grit, made of dried reeds from the river bank, as far as the eye can see is the housing of the farm workers. Such dire poverty, no amenities, even their water is not piped in but hauled up from the a Orange river. Not a blade of grass, not a tree to be seen, mere sheds and lean too's. we are horrified but sadly not surprised. I was wondering just when the underbelly was going to show up.
We pass a sign that identifies the holding as that of a South African company....at the
demise of the old system of privilege and apartheid many businesses fled South Africa rather than change their practices or chance a dip in their economy....some found fertile ground and soft landing in economically disadvantaged Namibia and there set up 'business as usual'
In stark contrast for us today however there is the lazy orange river, large sparkling swimming pool and of all things a washing machine? I had all but forgotten they existed! The smiling staff and young handsome bartender welcome us warmly, now understanding why they sincerely appreciate tourists, our money goes far, our conversation offering glimpses of another world welcome, we are a business and it truly betters their lives
Ever the adventurer, sometimes not the intrepid or wise adventurer, I make the mistake of going canoeing instead of watching the river from the vantage point of the pool near the bar on the cliff.
They drive us to the starting point several miles downriver, the end point is our lovely campsite, there was no escape. 3 flat, hot, constantly paddling against a head wind hours later the canoe is delivered to it's port. It was about as much fun as pitching a dozen
tents in the wind!
Back at camp, thanks to comrade O..., my fellow traveller who wrestled the temperamental washing machine into performance, my laundry has been done! Some of the other women on this trip were truly first class!
I collect my stiff but clean clothing from the bushes where it had been laid out to dry and commence Gerties private photo shoot complete with make up and styling. She looks gorgeous!
That night the weather is perfect, the air so crisp and dry, the grass so thick, clipped and green that, hallelujah, we don't pitch our tents but sleep sprawled out under the stars.
My blanket, the Milky Way, floats just above me. As my eyes grew attuned to the darkness I became aware not only of the larger more vivid stars, but also layer upon layer of more and more distant stars ad infinitum...
To think we are made of stardust, sharing some of the same atoms. I lie awake staring out into the night sky, there is no past, no future, only space and a tiny yet infinite me in the now.
Orion's Belt is upside down, the Big Dipper way
Gertie
Sincere and Lovely over my right shoulder, the Southern Cross rules the sky. From the corner of my eye a shooting star darts left then shortly thereafter another.
There will be no sleep tonight that I save for New York City where one can barely see the sky.
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Susan McGraw Keber
non-member comment
Spectacular!
Thank you for sharing your travels…through your words and photos I see the majesty of the landscapes, the people, customs, and brilliance in the night skies…safe journey home to NYC where you are right, the stars are overwhelmed by man's invented light…unspectacular compared to the heavens above at night! xo Susan