THIS IS MY NAMIBIA By Ron Swilling
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Welcome home.” I remember those words scrawled by a former employer on a piece of paper and clipped to my notes when I did a stint as a lodge reliefmanager in the Kunene Region. They struck a chord. And, whenever I leave the country for a while, on my return to ‘the land of big skies’ I smile, let out a deep sigh of relief and say to myself “welcome home.” Namibia does that to you. Easily. It gets under your skin like the desert dust – and then it takes a skip into your heart and a jump into your soul. There it stays. When I’m away for an extended period of time, I feel the universe nudging me. It says: Get back to Namibia. Now! It’s that time when I am hungry for authenticity – for raw energy. My heart always does an extra jig when I spot my first quiver tree and ‘Cape to Namibia’ road sign, and I know I’m drawing closer. The land named after one of the most ancient deserts on the planet knows how to do things with passion. There is no time to dilly-dally and pussy-foot over here. When it rains, it storms. Thunder and lightning make their way over the hills, rumbling and flashing with fury, moving closer and closer, until the powerful thunderclaps are overhead and the rain pounds down causing torrents of water that quickly form rivers around you. When it rains long and hard in the catchment areas in the interior and Namibia’s ephemeral rivers begin to flow, the excitement in the desert is palpable. The world holds its breath. People upstream tell you that the river is on its way. And you wait. You hear it before you see it, a rush of water that arrives in waves, carrying logs and debris in a celebration of existence and with the force of life itself. And then it quiets down, sinking into the sand to replenish the aquifers. The seasons turn, sometimes leaving areas without a drop of water year after year. At the beginning of every summer we wait in anticipation for the clouds to build up, the sky to darken and for those first heavy drops to hit the soil. Nature calls strongly here. With vast open countryside that runs into infinity, the
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stars are brighter, lighting up the dome of the night sky with a dazzling display of diamonds – and sleeping outdoors becomes one of the greatest luxuries in the world. The simple things in life begin to matter more. This is my Namibia. Beauty takes on a different guise, both in the land and among the people, as if it will not be dictated to by conventional ideas. It has a mind of its own. Sand heaped into towering mountains forms some of the most extraordinary scenery in the world, and the Himba women’s glistening loveliness makes for a new and refreshing perception of beauty. I love the fact that Namibia invites me to think anew. It has taken me by surprise to learn of the many secrets the Namib Desert holds in its rough, wizened hands. The most delicate blooms emerge from the hardiest of plants, and expanses of sand that appear lifeless hold a myriad of life-forms. There are many discoveries to be made. And, as if to acknowledge that balance is essential in life, the rivers and waterways of the Kavango and Zambezi regions wend their way through verdant riverine vegetation. A gentle green fills up all the empty places inside my being until I am peacefully replete. Hippo grunts and birdsong fill the air, punctuated by the piercing calls of the African Fish Eagle.
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Namibia’s people complement the exceptional natural world with their rich age-old traditions. Flashes of colour and vibrancy remain etched in my mind: A group of Himba women stamping their feet and swinging their arms energetically in dance; an Owambo man patiently weaving a granary basket outside a homestead; a group of women laughing, flashing pearl-white teeth, while fishing in an oshana with their funnel-shaped woven traps; a family on a donkey cart travelling homewards on the gravel roads of the hinterland; and a Herero woman walking at a regal pace down the street on a scorching summer’s day, dressed in her voluminous skirts. Wherever and whenever, it is always the friendliness, the smiles that cut through the barriers of culture and are the currency of life. Over the years, I have collected a collage of Namibian smiles. They overlap marvellously with images of desert elephant, gemsbok and all the rest of our Namibian siblings. When it is time to leave and I exit the country at the Noordoewer border post in the south, I feel a pang of sadness. Then I look up at the Engen fuel stop’s billboard, appreciating its apt message to departing travellers: ‘Thank you for visiting Namibia’, it says. ‘It’s been a treat’. TNN