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Before I begin, a quick note to let you know that the postcard from the Okavanga Delta is now complete!
What to call this postcard? In Northern Namibia we had our closest encounters with the local people. And very different encounters they were.
Encounter 1 was spontaneous, El and I had some time to kill whilst at N'gepi camp and went for a walk with Mamba the cook and Pat the driver. The boys ended up in a football match with the local men and I ended up in a netball match with a bunch of girls.
Encounter 2 was an organised trip to a Sans Bushman Community Project.
Let me start by describing the first, and then explaining the issues we had with the second...
So, the sporty encounter with the locals. At around 5pm, when the heat was out of the sun (well, it was still mighty hot by our standards), four of us took a walk up to the football pitch near the local villages. As we approached, men appeared from nowhere and started a very energetic football match. They played with such skill and speed. Mamba, being a native Zimbabwean, kept up, both in terms of skill and pace. Pat, having played football in his youth and being generally quite sporty was able to hold his own for the first half. El was put in goal; probably the best place for him as he didn't have to run around that much ;)! He did work up quite a sweat though and actually saved a couple of goals. I think he was a bit confused by the ever changing outline of the pitch, which seemed to stretch as far back as the locals fancied.
I didn't get to see much of El's first foray into football, as I was whisked off by some young girls to shoot some baskets. Emily & Shona and another girl who I forgot the name of. Soon, many more girls arrived and we started a netball match. They were great, and having played once upon a time many years ago for my high school team as goal attack, I could hold my own.......for the first 45 minutes or so, and then the heat got the better of me and so I sat in the shade of a tree chatted to a little girl, who sat on the sidelines holding a baby. This young girl didn't speak any English, so a friend of hers explained that the baby was her younger brother, but she was now looking after him as both of their parents were dead. This girl could not have been a day older than 13. I played with the baby a little, and the girl could do nothing but smile and laugh. I think this side of Africa is something everybody should experience. It certainly opens your mind and offers a new perspective on your own life. I could have stayed there for hours, but as the sun started to set, the locals started making their way home, and El and I followed suit, walking with Emily back to camp.
Emily spoke very good English and explained that she goes to school, she asked if I had any brothers and sisters, so I told her about Estelle and Adrian and then asked her about her family. All dead. Brothers, sister and parents. All of them. I did not know what to say. The remainder of the walk we were silent.
As Emily said goodbye and walked off, El and I were holding back the tears. Yes this is common in Africa and yes we were aware of this last time we were in Africa. But there was something about this little girl that really got to us. On the netball pitch she had been a little bundle of energy, fun and smiles. It has always amazed us that despite everything, the Africans always seem to continue with a smile, but this little 14 year old girls reaction to my question about her family showed us the pain they do quietly suffer. Back at camp, we grabbed a beer and sat on the riverside in darkness and quiet thought for half an hour or so. This had been a slice and reminder of the reality of Africa.
...not the organised village tour version that we were exposed to a couple of days later. We were told we were visiting a local community project, run by and for the benefit of the local Bushmen. We were led to believe that these people still lived in a traditional way and were scraping a living out of passing tourists. It is fair to say that our initial reaction was not positive, but a day or so of reflection and we were able to accept it for what it really was:
- a local community making a real living out of tourism (they get over £100 a day from tourist fees any money they make from the crafts etc they sell, that is a lot by Namibian standards)
- a museum of how the Bushmen tribes used to live (just like the Jorvik Viking Museum, for eg, this is a way for them to preserve their history and culture as they become more adapt to and adopt modernisation)
Fair play to them.
Although this wasn't the slice of Africa we had hoped for, we did have immense fun. I got to make some bracelets out of Ostrich Eggs with the women, using a sharp piece of metal, a stone and my bare hands only. I got to hold a very young baby and scare it so much it screamed and his older brother quickly bundled him away. El got to have a go at shooting a traditional bow and arrow, we had a walk through the bush where they showed us lots of plants they used to use to cure illnesses and cook with. We got to watch traditional song and dance, involving many generations of people. What a wonderful sound African singers make. It never fails to captivate us.
So, this 2nd encounter was fun. But it was not the Africa we wanted to get close to. It was an example of how Africans are making a living out of us and, in turn, reaching a better standard of living for themselves. This particular project does not have Western or white involvement, so you know the money is going to the locals. Quite which locals you don't know. It clearly wasn't shared out evenly. But, isn't that the nature of the capitalist game?
Personally, I think the above shows two different sides to Africa - anyone visiting should seek out both. But remember, the first is still the reality for most...
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