My sister (Mariam) visits Namibia (and me!)

I have delayed in posting a new blog because quite frankly, I have been busy, but after a few reminders from friends, here it is (and a long one too, sorry!).

I figured there was about a 50% chance of disaster on this trip since my younger sister is used to all sorts of modern conveniences (like flushable toilets) and has a certain standard of hygiene and cleanliness (which is undoubtedly, much higher than mine). My itinerary for her called for mostly camping, campfire cooking, cold showers and the use of natural toilets i.e. the bush (hey, it was a trip based on a volunteer’s wages). Fortunately, after some prodding, she was able to cope with all of the above. But, as she put it, she would have preferred to not travel around Namibia but rather stay at home (and stare at me, I presume). I of course thought this was nonsense and planned an action-packed adventure. Our first stop was Swakopmund, a little town on the Atlantic coast, it is the epitome of a small German town (or so I’m told, since I’ve never been to Germany). We decided to stay at one of the tiny bungalows the Swakopmund municipality rents out for tourists. It was clean, safe , had hot water and toilets, and we could cook on an electric plate. In other words, heaven (for me, I’m not so sure about Mariam). We stayed for 3 days and during that time we strolled along the waterfront, ate pizza, shopped, and a highlight for me, went to a bookstore. One day we went Quad-biking in the Namib desert. A quad bike is just like a motorcycle with 4 wheels really, and highly unstable, if you ask me. I had mixed emotions riding the dunes, mostly fear, and I explained to the instructor when our hour was finally up, that I thought this experience had taken a year off my life. And in my sister’s quest to shorten my lifespan even more (or so it appeared to me), the following day we went kayaking in the Atlantic ocean. To be sure, I had expected this activity to be fraught with danger and fear for us (ok, I was the only scaredy-cat), but it was the best part of the trip. We kayaked among the seals and played with them (this consisted of splashing them and trying to poke them with our paddles, while the seals did flips in the air and splashed us back). I rather think Mariam and I made some new friends that day since the seals would not leave us alone, even after we had paddled further into the ocean to find the dolphins. We were able to spot the dolphins, but every time we tried to get closer, they managed to swim away. The ruckus caused by our new seal friends was probably a contributing factor. After Swakopmund, we met up with some other volunteers and all headed to Botswana for the Kuru Dance Festival. The festival invites San people (bushmen) dance groups to display their skills. It is not a competition, it is simply a celebration of their culture, and is an event organized by them, for them. One of the volunteers I know in Namibia works with the San people, which is how we snuck in. All the San groups were excellent. I waited during the entire festival for them to invite participants (i.e. ME) from the audience to a dance-off, and was highly disappointed when this didn't occur. Seriously.

We then returned to my home and visited Etosha Park the following day. Unfortunately, I don’t have pics of much of my sister’s visit because I had either been there before or I thought my camera was broken at one point, though it turns out it wasn’t. Etosha Park is legendary in Africa for its abundant game, and this day was no exception. We saw ostriches, elephants (my favourite), kudu, orynx, giraffes, springbuck, and other animals I can’t name. We then stayed in my home town for a few days, to recharge for our longest drive yet, to Victoria Falls. According to my mother (and I rarely credit her), Victoria Falls is the source of the Nile, in Egypt. Whatever its final destination, the falls were spectacular. It took us 2 days of driving to get there. On the way, we camped for 1 night by the Zembezi river, and woke to the sound of hippos grunting. Crossing the border into Zambia turned into a 3 hour ordeal, and my sister, unused to the African way, was understandable cranky by the end. But, we managed to get all the paperwork done, and as long as none of the customs officials were angry/rude/threatening, I didn’t care how long it took. I would have preferred looking over the falls from the Zimbabwe side, but given that my little sister was with me, and my mother’s wrath would be grave indeed if I took her into Zimbabwe, we stayed on the Zambia side, in Livingstone. It was interesting for me to notice that Zambia was not like Namibia is many ways. The people looked different, the culture was different, and the economy was different. I admit, it was my own lack of planning (hey, I’ve never “planned” anything before, so for a first time, I mostly did a good job), but I have never been so confused at an ATM. I had failed to inquire about the Namibian dollar-Zambian Kwacha exchange rate, so was perplexed over how much money to withdraw. $20 000? $100 000? $600 000? In the end, I settled on a middle-sized option, and chose $400 000 kwachas. A number that represents more money than I have ever made in my life. After buying a $500 banana and a $9000 stick of butter, we realized that perhaps I had taken out too little, since we also had to pay for gas, and a $250 000 charger for my phone. The following morning, we drove to Victoria Falls, enjoyed the sights then went to the makeshift market stalls outside the falls for some souvenirs. We realized we would not have enough money for souvenirs AND gas home, so we decided to trade our belongings for souvenirs, as suggested by one of the market sellers, Mambolo. A t-shirt, deck of cards, blanket, and tank-top scored us a wooden, hand-made tray. Needless to say, we were the only “poor” tourists hawking their belongings for souvenirs, but we were a hit with the sellers! I’m pretty sure Mariam and I were fleeced but these people were so poor, I didn’t mind. Eventually, after a couple of days of driving, we arrived at home, and chilled out, until her departure day.

Ghada
p.s. check out pics at http://www.flickr.com/photos/14582322@N06