Days 27-29. NAMIBIA

Like any port, Namibia began far before descending the gangway and hitting land.

For me, it began at 6:30 in the morning, when I woke up and went up to the 7th deck to watch us pulling into port. We were already in the channel, and layed out in front of me was the Namibian coast. Somebody remarked to me that Namibia may be the most “exotic”of ports we call on; that is, the least likely we would visit on our own.

Namibia is a land of amazement and wonder. It’s the type that makes you question what you’re seeing; whether it’s real or just something you thought up will looking in a coffee book somewhere. But it was real, and there it was. A very small port city on the coast with rolling red sand dunes as high as Utah mountains behind it.

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I was up early to watch, and then to greet. Along with a few other ambassadors, I waited at the top of the gangway for 3 members of the American Embassy to come aboard and brief the ship on safety, politics and travel in Namibia. It was an honor to have them on board, and very interesting: this was the first group of Americans I’ve met who were not part of the ship. We small-talked while they got ready for their talk, and then they spoke to the shipboard community. I grabbed my bags, waited for the announcement that my passport was ready, grabbed it and went.

At the bottom of the Gangway was a group of 20 or so young Namibian girls who were part of a choir in Windhoek (the capital of the country). They were there performing for us, dancing and singing. The trip from the capital to our ship to sing, a 3 hour journey, was organized by the Catholic Aids mission, and represented by 8 or so older white Englishmen and women who the kids affectionately called “grandma”and “grandpa.”I spoke to one of those guys, named Mike who was just celebrating his 70th birthday. We chatted at length about our respective trips, the ups and downs about Namibia and the girls he chaperoned to our ship. The girls were to board the MV Explorer to tour the ship and have lunch after the madness of disembarkation ended, and Mike told me how excited they were for it.

“We were trying to explain to them on the ride here what it was they were going to see: kind of a mix between a school-house and a boat, but they couldn’t grasp the idea of a ship this large, it just didn’t exist in their minds”Mike said. Around us on the dock, with the hot Namibian sun over us, the girls had stopped singing and instead were mingling with fellow SAS-ers, hugging, taking pictures, exchanging names and handshakes and kisses.

Mike, with some emotion in his voice continued, “you all have no idea how influential you are, just being here, on these girls.”

“They’re just as influential on us,”I replied. It was a touching moment, a very human moment, as we realized how wrapped in each other’s experience we both were. Even though we had met not a few moments before, it was like we knew each other forever.

I said goodbye to Mike and the girls, and headed off the pier to begin my safari.

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You can tell a lot about a country from the first few moments on land. Namibia was amazing. In 2 minutes I realized how amazing the people were. Even the immigration officers (notoriously angry people, like the post office) were smiling and excited to see us.

We walked off the pier and found the Wild-Dog Safari caravan of small busses, and found our bus, bus #5. I boarded the bus-van-safari-mobile and met my two guides, Benny and Manfred. Both born and raised in Namibia. I stowed my bag in the back and established a seat and an area. I had no idea what crazy events would transpire right within the bus at the time.

Once we had everyone, we took off, and our first destination was right in town: ATMs and Grocery Store. We got some Namibian dollars, and then headed to Shop-Rite, the big discount grocery store to stock up for our journey. I was methodical in my shopping as usual. I got 2 GIANT 5-liter bottles of water, some chips and snacks, and of course with prices this low (approx USD$ 3.00 for a 6-pack), our bus had to stock up on some authentic Namibian beer as well. It’s all for the culture, as I’m sure you know.

After getting back in the bus, we got our first surprise. We were told since leaving the US that the drive from Walvis Bay to Etosha national park was about 4 hours. I said nonchalantly to Benny, our driver, what time he expects us to set up camp. He replied, “not long, man, not long, I’d say 7 or 8 hours, not long at all.”Everyone looked around at eachother. Did we just hear 7 or 8 hours?

I’ll skip a bit. It took 9 and a half.

You see, Namibians have short attention spans, which means approximately every hour, on the hour, a 15 minute break was in order where we could pee, buy more crap at gas stations, and walk around doing that whole stretching our legs bit. It was funny, after like 5 stops, Benny was to pull off and the bus told him in so many words, “none of us have to pee! Keep going!”He laughed, and then made a right into the station.

At one point in the drive, Manfred turned around violently, “CLOSE THE WINDOWS! CLOSE THE CEILING, MAN!”I looked out the windshield and saw why. It looked like the road stopped in the distance. Not so, it was just a WALL of rain. We hit it like a ton of bricks and it was the loudest pelts of rain I’ve ever heard. We were in an authentic African rain storm. ‘we’re safe here in the bus,‘I thought to myself…and then: Drip. Drop. SPLASH, the ceiling was leaking like a faucet in about 10 different places, most notoriously in a water-fall like stream above ME. I grabbed my bag and chucked it to a dry part of the bus and took cover in the back with my other bus-mates. We were all soaked, on a bus, within minutes.

Everything was going great. Conversation was flowing, people were drifting in and out of sleeping for a few minutes here, a few minutes there. I had dried out and was in great spirits, laughing about the one ‘glitch’in our drive.

Then, all of a sudden…quiet. The bus’engine was notoriously loud, and when we drove, we shook in a violent manner similar only to, well, the ship’s engine. This was weird. I could hear myself think. I glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw Bennys eyes darting back and forth between the road and the dashboard…something was up.

We coasted a mile or so before momentum gave up and Benny pulled off the road. He turned the key and we heard that famous noise that nobody wants to hear. “click-click-click-click-click…nothing”We were broken down. In Namibia. In the middle of nowhere. Optimistically, I yelled up to Benny, “How far are we from Etosha??”We had been driving for at least 5 hours now, we couldn’t be much further.

“Not far, man, not far, only about 3, 4 hours, not far,”Benny replied.

The bus was pooped, and within a few minutes, all 8 other busses in our caravan had met up with us. The 14 of us, affectionately known now as “refugees”were split up into the other busses and continued our drive. I ended up on a water cooler in bus 9, and couldn’t feel my ass for the majority of the trip. It was ironically funny…all we could do was laugh!

To make matters worse, Etosha closes their gates at sunset. It’s simply dangerous to be driving in a park larger than Yellowstone without natural light in the sky. Oh, did I mention, lions, elephants, giraffes, cheetahs, etc. are in the park? Anyway, the sun was rapidly descending in the sky, and we were nowhere near Etosha. Whether or not they would wait to shut the gates was unknown.

Long story short, we converted the bus to a mobile dance party to have some fun. It was great, and hilarious, and before we knew it the driver got on the mic. “Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Etosha National Park.” It was pouring down rain, cold, and dark, but we didn’t care. We were there. We made it. We had to pitch camp in the pouring rain. My tentmates Hannah and Caroline and I worked diligently to get it up fast and get it up right, and then shut the thing and refused to go in it until we found a way to keep it dry and sterile. As some of you know, my Dad’s version of camping is staying in a Holiday Inn, so my knowledge of camping has been learned, not genetically passed down. What I have learned, however, saved us: The first rule of camping is keep the tent sterile. And sterile it remained.

Benny and Manfred finally made it to us with the bus, and sat us down to make dinner over the campfire. It was difficult in the rain, but amazing. He made pasta and Namibian pot pie…one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. We were talking about it the next day. After hanging with the other busses, laughing and chatting, we finally and quickly got in the tent, rolled out our sleeping bags and fell asleep. I slept like a baby.

When we awoke, the rain continued, but slowed greatly. We were up at 545, ate, and then headed out for the day to “game drive,”drive around the park and stop to look at the wondrous animals that would be passing by. There’s not much I can write to describe the experience. Certainly pictures will help, but I’ll tell you this. We saw Oryx, Springboks, Wildebeests, Zebras, Giraffes, and even a lion under a tree in the distance, among hundreds of less recognizable, but equally distinguishable animals and birds. It was not a zoo, or anything close. We were on their turf, and many times they made sure we knew that. It was an amazing, amazing day.

I should mention that even though the weather cleared and was absolutely beautiful and sunny outside for almost the entire day, our luck did remain. When we pulled in for lunch, we snagged something and got a flat tire. Poor Manfred, he had to change it. I offered to help, but in true Namibian friendly fashion, he would hear nothing of the sorts. He and some other guides got their hands dirty and changed the tire.

That night, we returned to camp to a completely different scene from the night before. The camp was beautiful in the light. We swam, showered, visited the store and just hung out. There was a tower in the middle of camp. We got some wine and climbed up its spiraling staircase in preparation for a sunset, what would be probably the greatest sunset I’ve seen. There, at the top of the middle of nowhere, with nothing on any horizon but trees and grasslands, was a 360-degree sunset. Every cloud on every side of me was glowing with a different shade of red, or purple, or pink. We looked around, our senses unable to process what we were experiencing.

The camping experience for 2 days was amazing. We truly got a taste of the high African landscape, and through my many conversations with the guides, I felt like I had a great chance to connect with Namibians. They are truly wonderful people. They surprised me with their optimism, vitality and excitement about life. They took every one of our many bumps in the road in stride and said “Anything can happen in Africa, no worries.”

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Monday morning, we awoke early for our trek down south back to Walvis Bay and the Ship. Compared to the two days before it, it was largely uneventful. Uneventful was something we knew little about in Namibia thus far, so it was a welcome relief. We still stopped every few minutes, it seemed, and we slowly made our way south. Out the window, I found myself just looking out at- nothing, passing trees and desert, wondering how I got there.

As we approached Swakopmund, we enjoyed some bag lunches on the bus, and then Benny treated us with one extra stop on the way back to the ship. He pulled off at one of the dunes on which we stopped, stretched, took pictures and ran up and down. Stopping there must be like when somebody from Hawaii sees snow for the first time. I have never seen or stepped on or processed literal mountains of sand…it was so cool.

Benny and Manfred drove us back to the ship and we all hugged goodbye. They had been great hosts for the past few days, and I truly appreciated their hospitality.

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As I said, much of what is learned in each port is from the first five minutes. This country is beyond explanation. The kindness and excitement in the people’s expressions is palpable. It’s a part of the world that has seen heartbreak again and again, with problems incomprehensible to countries like the USA. As one Namibian said to me, “how can we worry about the economy when 40% of our citizens die from HIV?”He was right.

Every single Namibian I met both on safari and in the towns that we stopped in made it a point to shake my hand and introduce himself to me. I hope that this continues. With its un-tapped paradise and a growing tourism industry, Namibia has one of those “in 10 years this place could be like The Atlantis,”landscapes, which worries me a bit. They should capitalize on their location and beauty, but I hope their culture remains. It’s hard to do in this world, but they have a good, unique happiness going that truly surprised our ship. I hope that in 10 years from now, students aboard the MV Explorer II or whatever it’s called then are as equally as impressed by the vitality of the country’s people, instead of looking at the country as a weekend destination. Only time, however, will tell.

In the mean time, I’m truly grateful to experience their country through my eyes, I truly knew nothing about it before.

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As we pulled out of the port, the port-hands were right below us to throw our ropes in the sea and release us from the country. This is a fairly routine, and the amount of people who make it their business to be out there on the top deck has dropped off, but my friends and I are generally there. On this occasion, the entire immigration/customs team, port-hands and the entire port staff lined the dock, yelling, waving and reaching through car windows to honk their horns. I’ve never seen anything like it. They were so sad to see us go and were truly giving us a great send off, rivaled only by our parents in Nassau.
Captain Jeremy, in return blew the ship’s fog horn “beep beep ba beep beep….. beep beep.”As we pulled out, I locked eyes with someone down below, and yelled “thank you for having us!!!”to him.

He looked up, put his hand on his heart and screamed, “Thank you for *coming* my friend! See you soon!”

We were picking up speed, and a few seconds later, he was gone from sight. A few minutes later, so was Namibia.