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The truck |
My wife Julie and I had something of an understanding before we came. Given that we would be living in a new place, without the support of friends and the distractions of our home, I'd spend time with the family during all the major school holidays. This has worked well. We've had some great times times together as a family, and managed to do so in some incredible places. It has been a little more vacation time than I'm accustomed to, and I could be found lugging around a laptop to several of these exotic locals.
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A Namibia landscape. There are Rhinos down there. |
The last of these vacations was in
Namibia. During the 'scramble for Africa', when European powers divided up the continent for colonization, Germany was given a region then called South West Africa (as well as present day Tanzania). After the first world war, the Germans surrendered control of the holding to South Africa, which ran the place until independence in 1990. During the height of the apartheid regime, Namibia was a hub for South Africa to carry out various bush wars from. Many white South Africans were conscripted into military service and stationed in Namibia, venturing out to fight in Angola. These people are about my age now, and I've heard stories. I suspect it was awful, being shipped off to fight a bush war for nebulous reasons. Sort of a South African Vietnam.
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Local color. Those are grubs. Never tried them though. |
Geographically, Namibia is dominated by the arid Namib desert. It's a large area, bigger than Texas, but has a population of only 2 million people. The long colonization period has left a good infrastructure, with excellent roads, reliable electricity and water, a stable currency linked to the rand, well provisioned shops, and comparatively little corruption. One goes there for isolation, quiet, sun, incredible landscapes, and wildlife viewing. We rented a big truck with tents on the roof and headed out without much planned.
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African super store. You can get anything here. |
While the days were warm and bright, the nights were cold, so we continued northward, toward the equator and lowlands. This promised warmer weather and something else. As one approaches the Angolan border and the
Caprivi strip, there is more moisture, the climate changes, and the population density increases. This was exactly what I wanted. This was getting back to the Africa I love from my Peace Corps days in Malawi. Villages, traditional lifestyles, thick vegetation, and powerful rivers filled with hippos and crocodiles.
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Camping |
And craziness. For instance, one of my favorite experiences was stopping in front of a 'Road Closed' sign to ask around about how closed it really was. We were paying good money for a big ass truck after all. To inquire we went into a corner restaurant/bar/hotel/grocer kind of place that one finds in Africa. A small crowd had gathered around the truck while we drank Cokes and asked about road conditions. People indicated various places on their calves and knees to show how deep the water over the road was. I was able to piece together bits of the local language, it wasn't so different from what I'd learned in Malawi. Someone came over to let us know they were riding with us to the next town. Then another, and another. It just wasn't possible to take so many people, and I have no recollection of offering transport services. But then again, some of these folks were
way too awesome to ignore.
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The Etosha pan |
My favorite was a 6 plus foot Macy Gray looking woman with crooked wig and purple sunglasses. There were two Angolan guys dressed in a pimp-ish manner trying to get me to take her in a Portuguese-English-Kavango patois. She had a bottle with a couple of very dirty liters of diesel to offer in exchange for a ride. She also had a jumbo sized 'Louis V.' bag for her junk. How could I refuse? She'd definitely keep the boys from arguing in the back seat. In the end, I was convinced to offer the seat to a woman that needed to go to the hospital. She was respectably dressed, and in spite of her medical condition, managed to knock several larger people aside to get into the back seat of the truck first. Winner. It all begs the question; in these rural villages, how many people are just sitting around, waiting to go somewhere else? 30-40%?
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Lilac breasted roller |
Even better than my giggles, I got to introduce my boys to this world, which is absent, or difficult to experience in South Africa. This was a pleasure: seeing them interact with villagers, make purchases of fried dough in the markets, ponder how life in the villages must be, and cruise along an ancient waterway, seeing people living as they have for countless years.
It was a good experience. The pictures probably tell the story better than the blog entry. Clicking the "Slideshow" link in the upper right will show you more.
Great post as usual, Jesse! I loved seeing the 'bad ass' truck with its tent hat! Your description of the questionable woman was priceless! I take it you got through to the next village! Thanks for the descriptions and for sharing the journey. Are you guys back in the USA now?
ReplyDeletealso, nice photo of the roller! We saw the European variety which winters in South Africa, in Austria!
ReplyDeletecool... jesse..... keep writing....
ReplyDelete