(Old boundary from the "South West" [Africa] days: approaching Otjituuo on the C42 from Grootfontein, Namibia)

Roy’s style reminds me of the Spadena House in Los Angeles – but definitely it is African. It has been designed by the owner’s sister and is a bit like “Hansel and Gretel meet the Bushmen”. We set out for Will’s village arriving mid-morning after doubling back to retrieve the keys to his house and stopping in Grootfontein at SPAR for groceries to stock up Will’s pantry.

We reach Otjituuo and stop by the police station where Will has stored his laptop. We are locked out of the school grounds but find the principal who happily admits us. We park and begin to unload his food – this to make life a little easier since hitchhiking into town to buy food is a big weekly chore (to say the least).

(Otjituuo Primary School: the pond accumulated during last winter's heavy rains; the cows are highly valued by the Herero people)

Carole busies herself cleaning his abode in the time-honored way of mothers but he has kept it surprisingly neat considering all the recent end-of-term work and stress. His house tidy and shelves stocked with food; we take a tour of the school and a very low-profile tour of the criss-crossing dirt trails in the village. The San (the more correct term for the Bushmen) and the Herero live separately; we also glimpse the shebeens (the local, simple taverns); the small Caltex station and store. We have spent a little too much time in the village but it is important for Will to be able to lock up and leave with a sense of closure.

(Looking east at the police station -- and noting also that the village has a government provided nurse -- your blogger casts a long evening shadow: Otjituuo, Namibia)

Liezel is a little put out with us for arriving an hour late for dinner but there has been much to do and the driving distances are long. She is happy to hear however that her meal is so good as to clearly take first place in our ratings so far – eclipsing even La Marmite in Windhoek. We had tried to call her several times to warn her about running late – but it turns out that the phone line has been down for days: no email or VISA payments as a result either. But we are carrying enough cash so no matter. Liezel and Heinrich are all about kindness and hospitality: Heinrich even permits me to park and re-inflate my tires when we return from Tsumkwe – the next leg in our journey.

Labels: Grootfontein, Otjituuo, Tsumkwe

¶ 5:24 PM 0 Comments

(A clan of banded mongeese: Ft. Namutoni, Etosha National Park)

(Watchful adults pick up the young in their mouths and keep the clan in a dense pack: Ft. Namutoni, Etosha National Park)

We set out for the Ft. Namutoni gate and exit Etosha.

(Ft. Namutoni: the eastern gate of Etosha National Park and a colonial sentinel meant to guard the northernmost German settlements against cattle epidemics and the Ovambo people)

In Tsumeb Will points out the tree where he hitchhikes to Grootfontein. Tsumeb is one of those towns that have a lot of technical know-how which must be the legacy of its days as a former copper mining center. We get the truck (and its engine) washed off at the Engen station. We notice a truck with a similar “kit” and learn that they have obtained their vehicle from Drive Africa too. They are “repeat customers” of Drive Africa and provide us with a recommendation regarding service for our truck. We need bodywork now however because the driver’s door will not open due to our collision with the springbok.

We find Auto Tech, the “panel beaters” as collision repair is known in Africa. Auto Tech has a designer showroom and collision repair center that would put anything in the world to shame. Even though we have arrived well past noon without an appointment our wait is minimal and Jacob fixed the door for free. The actual repair of the dent(s) will happen later but at least we can open and close the door. We leave with an estimate for Drive Africa (repairs are only done with a “go-ahead” or approval from Drive Africa) and out of gratitude we go to Auto Tech’s service center in town and have the 5,000 km service performed plus new front brake pads, 4 new shock absorbers (recalling that a leaky shock was spotted at Kgalagadi) and a tune-up. We are probably overcharged as tourists a little bit but considering the free repair to our door (and no appointments on a Friday) we leave happy. This would not have been the scenario if we had been in the US and especially if we were traveling.

(Private security is ubiquitous in southern Africa: two security guards at Auto Tech, Tsumeb, Namibia)

The truck is now clean inside and out (part of the service) and now has much improved handling as the shock absorbers must have been worn out all around. Will’s sense of thrift is violated but we are only at the beginning of a journey which will put 25,000 km or more on the Hilux so it is money well spent. We get Will’s eyeglasses repaired and drop off some laundry – both to be picked up tomorrow.

We have been in “German colonial” Namibia for some time. While Windhoek has authentic structures from that period (late 19^th to early 20^th century) this area is much more evocative of the romantic, pioneer guardian mind-set of people only one or two removes from my generation. Even though the lookout tower at Okaukuejo (not from the colonial period) and the Fort at Namutoni (a reconstruction of the original) are “new” – they still convey something. Tsumeb has flame trees lining its streets and the old Minen Hotel which is “period” and preserves the past.

Not to make any sort of a deluded detour into a romanticized past (connecting with Winnetou so-to-speak) you must also consider the Herero war and their pursuit in defeat and misery and merciless slaughter on the Kalahari by a victorious von Trotta and the Schutztruppe. And there is the struggle of the Dorsland (“Thirst land”) Trekkers (one of the many Afrikaner migrations away from British control) that is threaded with the struggle, suffering and ultimate failure so familiar to the American West. Isn’t the American story essentially a tragedy too? Growing up in the West is very suggestive. The lonely grave site in Etosha of a Dorsland trekker was so familiar. Isolated immigrants, abandoned enterprises, busted dreams, and thousands of dead tribal people.

(Flame trees in bloom: Tsumeb, Namibia)

Ghaub Guest Farm http://www.namibiareservations.com/ghaube.html halfway between Tsumeb and Grootfontein characterizes the ambition of this period perfectly. In a valley along a road that winds 20 km from the main highway with the same ancient calciferous mountainsides, verdant, solitary until at the last moment a group of kudu make an appearance. We pass the Gothic lettering at the gate which dates the farm “1895”. Welcomed by the staff we join the temporary manager for dinner with his family on a quiet terrace. Theuns van der Merwe was the manager at the Midgard Lodge which is of great interest to my son. Midgard had scaled back and the government school there had closed. The school’s furniture would be of great use at the school (Otjituuo Primary School) where my son is teaching and the two agree to try to get the local authority to agree to its transfer. This practical result lessens Will’s unease in these comfortable surroundings – his isolation and the hardship he sees in the village where he lives make too much of a contrast. Soon it apparent we are the only guests and we later learn Theuns has traveled here just to open it up for us.

Labels: Etosha National Park, Grootfontein, Namutoni, Otjituuo, Tsumeb

¶ 3:38 PM 1 Comments