Happy Canada Day! Greetings from Damaraland, in northwestern Namibia, where the nothingness is vast and the people are about as unique as you can find.
This morning, we woke up after a restless night spent attempting to sleep in ‘Grand Central Station’, aka the walkway to the washrooms. Needless to say, it was rather noisy. We packed up, had breakfast, and got ready to leave Etosha. We hung around the reception area while the guys packed the truck, and even went to the top of the German watchtower for some views. It was taking a while — apparently there were some issues with the check-out — so George took us on one last game drive before we departed. We visited two watering holes and saw some more animals. And then we got ready to leave for real.
We had jokingly told George that the trip to Etosha would be incomplete without seeing a male lion. Really, we were kidding; we knew we’d hit the jackpot with what we’d seen, and we were just scrambling to think of something — anything — that we hadn’t, for posterity’s sake. But, not being one to disappoint, he stopped the truck when he noticed another car stopped by the side of the road, and sure enough — lions! A male and a female. A mating pair, in fact, as we observed in some detail through the binoculars. There were herds of zebras and kudu nearby who observed them as well, apparently unconcerned with the fact that there were lions in the vicinity. With good reason, too; they’d mate for about fifteen seconds, and then go back to sleep curled up under the trees. It’s hard work making cubs, yo.
On the road again
Then, we could really leave Etosha, knowing that it couldn’t possibly have been any better than that. We stopped off at the first town outside the park for groceries and supplies. I replaced my lost towel, and we all fueled up on coffee and snacks. The town was as crowded on a Monday as the previous one had been on a Saturday. George explained that many of the people in the shops and on the streets were from the surrounding farms, and had come to town to do their marketing. Others were probably just hanging about; Namibia has a shockingly high 51% unemployment rate, and it’s much higher in these parts than the national average.
We drove along bumpy gravel roads into the Damaraland region. Our lunch stop, at a picnic table area by the side of the highway, was truly in the middle of nowhere. We were able to walk in the middle of the road, since no cars came along at all. These roads really are remote.
A visit with the Himba
The Himba people are some of the indigenous tribes of Namibia. Up in the northern regions of Namibia, they still live their lifestyle as they have for centuries, trading cattle and goats and living in thatched huts in tiny villages. Mostly, their culture has survived because it’s so remote; their areas of northern Namibia are difficult to access except by plane. There is one small Himba village in the Damaraland, though, which started off as an orphanage and to this day consists mostly of women and children. These days they survive mainly on donations and tourism, so of course the simple act of tour groups coming through there has changed their lives significantly.
The guide / interpreter / schoolteacher took us through the village. She introduced us to the children, the girls and women, and one of the men who was the tribal leader. They told us about their lifestyle, their clothes and hairdos, the small school where they teach some of the children, and some of the details of their day to day lives. For instance, the women don’t bathe with water; they use steam baths and perfumes only. And their elaborate hairdos can’t be slept on, so they use a neck contraption as a sort of uncomfortable-looking pillow. It doesn’t sound very appealing, but it’s traditional for them.
The village manages by selling trinkets to tourists and getting donations from people who come through there. Of course, we all bought the obligatory bracelets and whatnot. They also invited us to take photos of and with them, and the kids usually wanted to see on the screen of the digital camera how each photo came out. One of the kids asked me how it was that I was so white, compared to the other tourists? I just laughed and said it’s because I’m from Canada and it’s very cold there. How else to answer that?
Camping at Grootberg
We were running a bit behind schedule, so we didn’t get to our campsite until well after the sun had set. Too bad, since even in the dark it’s easy to see that it’s the nicest campsite by far on the trip. Totally isolated from the world, the site is surrounded by giant boulders. The bathroom and shower are heated by a fire lit under the boiler, and are open to the sky. There isn’t another human being in sight.
The stars here are incredible; we just stayed up late gazing at them and sipping beer or wine by the fire before heading off to sleep.