Namibia Pt 2 - The Modern Gentleman

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With a blown out tyre the previous day we left our overnight campsite with no spare tyre but ready to tackle one of the world’s most dreaded coastlines. The Skeleton Coast lay ahead and as we departed I put on the Prodigy song Minefields from my ipod. Blaring; “THIS IS DANGEROUS!” as we drove out of our campsite at 20km/hr.

We were on a road that sees only a handful of cars a day. On a patch of land that’s described as so remote that it resembles hell. Namibia’s remoteness is its biggest concern when driving around. But that didn’t stop us enjoying the north of Namibia as much as the south.

We left Windhoek and stopped off at Tsumeb close by (about an hour) is the world’s largest meteorite. Hoba Meteorite was discovered in 1920 and expectations were high - on a grand scale - and as we approached I couldn’t help but say. “Oh is that it?” I actually thought the rock was a replica for the tour guides to point out things before you see the real deal but I was wrong. It probably covered a 10m circumference.

We went through Etosha (explained in the last blog) and headed north to Opuwo to meet up with the Himba Tribe. Himba’s are around 50000 population, which live in a lifestyle much like their ancestors – half naked in villages with huts as houses. A small-stapled diet of meat, limited vegetables and water needing to be gathered by goat.

This is why in a visit you offer a food package about N$100 per person ($15.) This will pretty much feed the family. The village we visited had 6 wives for one chief. This is the group of people where the women cover themselves totally in a pasty mixture of ochre, butter and bush herbs. What this does is provide a bright orange look to the skin. It also acts as a sun block and insect repellent.

We managed to find Queen Elizabeth in front of the OK supermarket and she would act as an interpreter and take us around the village about 15km from Opuwo. Driving to Opuwo we had people on the highway in their traditional topless look. Other woman wearing the complete opposite with puffy outfits of outrageous colours and patterned dresses with some even more outrageous hats. We were definitely heading to somewhere else.

Queen Elizabeth was in another vehicle so we followed her, eventually arriving at the village. I looked at the truck she came in and it seemed to be a photography group. Out comes a group of American photographers with lenses the size of mountains.

We meet the chief’s first wife and before all the hellos are complete the semi pro’s start snapping away. Their care for the culture seemed non-existent. At one time I was asking questions about the culture and a guy interrupted me and said to the interpreter “Excuse me can you get her to stand over there.” After a translation they obliged.

I was thinking what has happened to this culture? Tourism can be good but it can also help a culture lose its soul. It really was an embarrassing display for tourism and I felt a big part of it.

So whilst they were taking photos trying to get the best lighting and explain the ‘lighting theory’ to Queen Elizabeth. Emarn was showing the most interest in the people. I was second and was playing ‘good tourist - bad tourist.’ I’d find out some information before heading off to take some photos.

Information like the anklets the women wore which went up to the mid calf and had metal beads circling around the ankle followed by a brownish stripe down the middle. If a women had one stripe than she has either had 0 or 1 child. 2 means 2 or more children. On the head many women wore a frilled goatskin, which indicates she has had her first period and ready to be a woman.

I would take photos but not in a forceful way like the others. It really puts into perspective the way a lot of those people photos you see of tribe’s people. It is probably done this way.

The first wife didn’t even bother with the others and invited Emarn and I to her house. A hut made of mud and a twig roof. Inside around the walls were various animal skins used as hats and other fashion accessories. On the ground was a mat, which she invited Emarn to sit down on.

She used this opportunity to smother Emarn with the ochre paste. On a white person it looks like some serious fake tan - More a reddish brown look. I said to Emarn later on that she looks like she is a “…wanna be professional dancer with all that fake tan.” Whilst in the hut I said that “… There is no time for a shower after this. Time is ticking.” This must have been translated as the first wife soon invited me to the mat and smothered my face. The smell was like matured cheese and felt like a facial. Outside the suns glare reflected in my eyes more intensely.

Whilst all this was going on some of the ‘semi-pros’ came to the hut. The first wife was showing the headpiece and one of the ladies bellows out. “Oh yes! This is the best lighting I’ve had all day! Look at it!” Her friend “Oh what do you have it on?” “I’ve got it at 800 with some exposure compensation.” I am thinking. ‘Is this happening? How am I not saying anything?’

At one point the first wife was sitting with Emarn and ready to pose with her. (Should be noted that Emarn wasn’t into this whole tourist photo thing) And the lady goes “Oh we don’t want her (Emarn) in the photo.” And told the first wife that! I couldn’t believe it! Do they think that throwing a bit of money their way is good enough for them to treat them like subjects? But that is what’s happening. It’s really sad. But I suppose a couple of hours of work a week to feed the family is not that bad!

After about 90 minutes they go in a circle to try and sell you some anklets or wristbands that sort of stuff. What ever you do don’t put your hand out to indicate you are not interested. A wristband will be on straight away. Then more will come on before you get to take the original one off.

The females all got up and started dancing and singing in a semi circle after that. But the problem was they were dancing in the wrong light for a good photo. Which was true. Just let it be is my reaction but these ‘semi-pro’s’ got them to stop, rearrange themselves so their faces were all lit up in the morning sun… Perfect lighting!!

As they sung they were having fun and the lady from “Oh this is the best lighting I have had all day” fame says “Oh they are being stupid now”. I bit my lip before I could say, “Fuck you bitch!” But the community is willing to do it so who am I to say anything.

We left soon after with some Himba woman still trying to get money out of us. I was in the car (we gave a lift to a local guy into town, he was in the car too) But Emarn was still outside feeling rude to just leave before they allow us to. I voice with urgency “Just get in the car… Just get in the car and close the door!” Emarn thanked me afterwards, as it was her first experience of travel of this kind. I explained later, “These people don’t get offended. Offended is a westerner’s emotion. Once we leave, it was as if we weren’t there. Life goes on.” – Harsh but fair.

We agreed once we dropped off the local in town to not have a shower and get going. So we headed south 4 hours along the worst road we drove on. Looking red faced like a Himba.

Although not as good as the coast, the drive is nice, passing Boaboab tree corner and other nice valleys with Namibian rock stands unmanned. It was tempting to just park the car and wait next to a Namibian rock on the ground to see if someone would come to bargain with me. But there are tins to put your money in.

At one stage Emarn said “Yeah I am pretty over driving now.” I said “I will take over in 5 minutes” when 5 minutes came, I was asleep for half an hour. When I awoke it was my turn to drive and soon after I hit a pothole of which Emarn says “Are you awake?” I’m pretty sure this was the moment that created concern for the rest of the trip. As soon after I started hearing a weird noise out the back. I voice my concerns. But as I am a city boy and Emarn is a country girl I felt she would know best and she says, “We are like 10 kms away.”

We continue even having to do a hill start and graze the car up the hill. (Still haven’t got out of the car to inspect) Emarn “We are like 5 km away.” Those comments got us 50m from the turn off to the accommodation in Palweg. And this awkward grinding sound came over us. I was just turning into the driveway and on the other side of the road and went to a complete stop just before a crest of a hill.

Red faced from Himba we get out of the car to inspect and about 16 holes in the tyre have caused the car to be un-driveable. We start the process of changing the tyre. The bolts are quickly off but we are unable to get the tyre off. So hard we tried, a combined effort took the car off the jack. Emarn fetched help from the campsite (whilst I tried my best to pull my back out) and 20 minutes later a guy comes out with WD 40 and a hammer to eventually get the tyre off.

We thanked him and thanked our lucky stars that we broke down outside our accommodation. This road sees only about 5 cars a day and we could have been stranded with these fussed tyre sockets. We tried to negotiate a spare tyre at the accommodation but they quoted about N$1200 ($175) for one tyre. The tyre needed to be flown in from the capital.

We thought about it – I said, “I will go to the toilet to give you one last chance to back out” - discussed it - I said, “I would love to have the story that we got a tyre flown in but I can live without it” - and decided to risk it. The thought of ‘even with a spare tyre we couldn’t get it off anyway’ was good enough to leave the campsite with Prodigy getting the adrenalin pumping.

Because of my poking fun of the situation or the fact that Emarn didn’t like my driving over unavoidable bumps on the road - The only point where we could have yelled at each other was here. The drives and heat test your patients and maybe because we were just travelling together we respected each other’s minor faults. Mine being some annoying little ones, which many at home can attest to - I am not always right but I am never wrong.

I did meet a honeymoon couple at the end in Windhoek before they started their two weeks. I said “If you get through the next two weeks without yelling at each other than you will have a very successful marriage.”

As I liked to drive down the middle of the road. Emarn says “I hate it when you drive there you should drive more to the left.” Soon after I drive to the left to keep the peace. But it was bumpier; she goes “Why are you driving there for? The road is bad look ahead and see where the better road is.” I must have looked pissed off biting my dry lips because she goes “Oh God don’t hit me. I’m sorry I just have to say it.” I have to point out here that she was patient with my shoddy manual driving so that’s pretty good going for 2 and a half weeks with no radio and no A/C.

Anyway back to heading to one of the most unhospitable places to have a shipwreck. Skeleton Coast is one of the great waterless areas apart from the vicious seas to the west. The landscape creates one last grand Namibian landscape farewell. Entry was via the Springbokwater entrance where the gatekeeper could understand consonants but no vowels. “E for… egg”.

Skeleton coast was described by early Portuguese sailors as ‘The Sands of Hell’ and more recently as “If hell has a coat of arms it probably looks like the entrance to Skeleton Coast Park.” Driving through the rusty gates. A red and black earth of unforgiving land was broken briefly with a few Oryx running along. Soon just red rocky earth, which changes to sand dunes of varying colours at each peak (red than black, white and yellow.) As we make our way to the coast passing in the meantime kilometres of land that once left old European crewmen stranded.

So dreaded the coast was during trade roots to and from Europe via Africa. When shipwrecked on the coast you were almost certainly dead. Fortunately for us the road along the coast is good compact sand.

Just when you think that no life could ever live here the sprouts of greenery pop up. Welwiches and lichens are scattered every now and then. But between that there is such lifelessness its as if the strong wind does nothing to change the landscape, as it looks fixed in time.

There are shipwrecks visible on the coast as evidence of the harsh seas that pound onto the coast all day and night. Unfortunately 4WD is only suitable to get there. There was only one visible boat travelling with a VW Golf but it looked like a small lifeboat and not that dramatic. In desperation on the last day to see one, I ran bare foot on this everlasting coastline that never got closer. The harsh rocks (a lot like loose gravel) hurt my feet and when I got to the coast - now a speck to the laughing Emarn waiting in the car - I saw nothing but a pounding coast of foam. This is up there with one of the dumbest things I have done in my travels.

The campsite most appropriate to stay on the way south is 150 mile campsite. And a classic moment happened here. A weird campsite of howling wind with an area best suited to fit 1000 tents with only three tents up for the night. As we drive pass one, Emarn gets out and asks if we could borrow a pot. (Otherwise it was just canned wieners and canned tomato and onion mix for dinner.) I am in the car and realise my cars exhaust is on top of them. So I start to drive off a bit. Emarn “Oh where is he going?”

Later, when it was time to put the tent up. I was writing in my diary when I noticed Emarn started with the tent (we arrived early). I offer to help. She says it “doesn’t matter just keep doing what you are doing.” After 2 weeks of travelling together I realised that after that comment me actually helping would piss her off so I kept writing.

The two guys who saw me drive off and thought ‘Gee this guy knows what he’s doing.’ walk past in this time. I am writing in the drivers seat comfortable as whilst behind me is Emarn fighting the wind with the sails of the tent flinging almost uncontrollably. They later invited us over for a brai (bbq) and say. “We were like. Now this guy has got it made!” They were disappointed to hear we were not going out.

I had a feeling this was the case as I saw them in the distance. They were local white Namibians who explained the difficulties of owning a house – 10% interest at the moment. The recreational lifestyle of the people. They were a good laugh but as with most males in the area. They were the old fashioned gentlemen.

It is always interesting travelling with a female because you get to see another side of the people. So many times the white males of Africa would insist on buying a drink or ask her to have a seat and wouldn’t listen to what she wanted. Instead still buying the drink or insisting until she sat. As long as they felt they were being a gentleman, they were a gentleman. See that is why I kept writing in my diary whilst Emarn was struggling (not that I saw at the time) to put the tent up. I was just being a modern gentleman! (See! Not always right but never wrong.)

We left the national park of sand to returned to Swakopmund. With sea water, sand, dirt, and mud we washed the car before giving it back to Freddy (a relieved man) and got a spare tyre for a third of the price.

Namibia for me is one of the best travel destination in the world. As well as the scenery, the people, the history, the beer. The food is really good too. Especially if you are looking to eat some game! In Windhoek Joe’s Beer House is the place to go. I got myself some Oryx (in appreciation for the amount of times I saw them in Namibia) and downed it with a few glorious Namibian beers.

I can be a bit harsh sometimes on places in the world I visit. But Namibia out of all the places in the world needs to be done properly and that is done by hiring a car. If I had done it any other way I could have been like a ship wrecked crewman from the 17th century and despise the place. Not many places I will go back to but without doubt Namibia will be the first country in Southern Africa I would go back to. And I’ve only just scratched the surface.

If you look at the World map on my blog I have gone to 80 countries in the world and for me to say that Namibia possibly is my favourite country I have ever travelled to must mean something. Most other places you can find a similar equivalent but Nambia is a true unique part of this world.

Some places you leave and say that is that. Namibia you want to relive again someday. Maybe that’s why a few days later I found 1200 Namibian dollars (about $170) snuck away in my backpack. Impossible to change now I’m further north. So what a perfect excuse to return! Just let me know when someone is ready.

NOTES: when driving always have the headlights showing as the sight of a car is so rare that when you are coming from the other way its best to be seen as early as possible.
Also red flags on the side of the road mean that a shepherd and his goats or maybe a bunch of cows are up ahead on the side of the road so slow down.

I didn’t get to do all I wanted to do especially diving at Lake Otjikoto where in WWII retreating Germans threw their artillery in so it didn’t get into enemy hands. Oh that would have been something.

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Comments

[Aries and Rinka]

are those red marks, patches of blood? Does it hurt them to wear those rings? This blog is so well written and nicely photographed, that I couldn't finish reading it, coz I can feel the harshness of living in these people's shoes (or lack thereof).

[Tai Yuni]

http://thegypsyjetsetter.com
Incredible photos! It looks like you had a really unique experience.

[thedribbleman]

Blood or not
No it is not blood. Around the neck is a neckless that is common and sold thorughout parts of Africa. They are usually bright colours. But for some reason this kid has gone way over the top with some fresh okra paste. This will dry up eventually and look like the others. There is an option for these people to live in the main town but I think it was better to live in the village than the main town. They seemed to be content with their lives. Now that tourism is there. I think they realise the benifit of posing for a few photos.