Namibia 4 Himba fighting

Himba men are known for their fierce fighting; their wooden sticks or machetes carried everywhere. Even in the dusty town of Opuwo, men carry their weapons daily in preparation for fight. Confrontation often breaks out over theft of cattle, division of cattle between siblings and rape; but even small verbal disagreements can trigger these life or death matches. If you kill someone in a fight you must give the deceased's family 37 cattle, only 8 if you maim or injure. It is hard to understand what little value is placed on one's life.

The chief shows me his arm which has a large weeping wound, caused when he fell from his cattle earlier in the day. Putting on some latex gloves I applied ointment, gauze and a tensor bandage for him and did my best to explain how to redress the wound. Unfortunately I must have put on the bandage a little tight as he returned later with a bluish arm and motioned for me to fix it. Oops!

Calvin & Sharon
photo: Janin Klemenčič

(to be continued) 

Namibia 3 Himba's attire

They are incredibly efficient with water, able to feed a family for several days on a litre of water.

The morning ritual for the women starts with a cleansing and the application of the bright red ochre powder (derived of rocks from Ruacana) with butter. Acting as a natural moisturizer, the coating lasts for days and gives the bare-chested Himba their striking appearance.

 Hair and jewellery play an important part of the Himba's attire, indicating one's marital status and puberty. Males wear a thick necklace made from loops of shell and a black tarry mixture of manure and ochre. These necklaces, over an inch thick, are donned as a young child, worn for life and must never be removed. Similarly, women wear tall anklets made from metal beads and fabric, again never to be removed. Young girls have hair matted down with ochre and butterfat into long braids hanging down in front of their faces or wound into two horn-like bumps with animal hide.

A nearby pile of ten cattle skulls, surrounded by stones, marks the grave of a once prominent member of their group. Flies constantly settle on my face, and I grow tired of waving them away.

Calvin & Sharon
photo: Janin Klemenčič

(to be continued) 

Namibia 2 Himba settlement

We approach a settlement with three small homes and a larger one for the holy fire. The homes are usually built from mopane branches stacked like a tent, which are pasted with cattle manure, creating a solid orange-red home, dry even during the rainy season.

Greeting a young Himba girl in the native tongue, we ask her for the chief. She points off into the distance and calls out. Sometime later, a young man approaches, wearing a blue mesh shirt, red print cloth and shoes cleverly fashioned from a discarded tire. After the traditional exchange of greetings, we ask him if we could enter their settlement and visit. Agreeing, we make an offer of a 10kg bag of mealie maize, the staple of their diet. One must never enter a Himba settlement without first talking to the chief or the chief of the holy fire (if one exists).

Life is simple in the settlement, though entails hard work. Their worth is dictated wholly by the size of their cattle herd, some amounting to as many as 200. Walking great distances (up to 50km a day), they must walk far to gather water or round up their herd.

Calvin & Sharon
photo: Janin Klemenčič

(to be continued)

Namibia - The Himba

This last week has been incredible. One of those moments that open up your eyes to life outside one's own.

Making our journey north as far as the border with Angola, we found ourselves in the land of the indigenous Himba people. With hundreds of kilometres of rough dirt roads seeing very few people ever passing, one must come prepared: a week's worth of water and food. Getting punctures is easy; getting stuck without help for days could be disastrous. With the isolation comes the preservation of local culture.

As we see three young Himba girls at the side of a nearby settlement their striking appearance gives an immediate sense of timeless existence.

The Himba are one of the last remaining hunter gatherer groups in Africa. Until 20 years ago, many of them still hunted with stone implements. Without any real land entitlement, they are nomadic, settling in temporary homes for a few months before moving on. When the earth is no longer ripe for cattle and crops, they pack up their few possessions and walk as far as necessary to find fresh land.

Calvin & Sharon
photo: Janin Klemenčič

(to be continued)

Etosha National Park - high-beams 2

Often, a driver will turn back on their high-beams just before they pass by, blinding you at the wheel. Boy, did this ever get under Nelson's skin. With as fast a reaction as possible, Nelson would mash the lever for his beams, hoping to have the last word with the oncoming driver. Frustration and swearing sets in if he didn't get to the lever in time.

This game of blinding each other just as they pass comes down to pride. Unfortunately, it often seemed that Nelson would be trying to blind oncoming semi-truck drivers, just to teach them a lesson. The last thing you need is a huge truck with a blind driver just about to hit you. But at least we'd get the last laugh.

"You see, these people are so silly," Nelson would respond, driving with his knees. With a wooden matchstick in one hand and a knife in the other, he proceeds to carve himself a toothpick, driving 100 at night.

Calvin & Sharon

(to be continued)

Etosha National Park 4 high-beams

There was no way that I was going to fall asleep, as it quickly became apparent that drivers here play little games to keep themselves awake. What I watched was a game of reaction time and pride, heightened by the thought of a car crash.
The game? A ritual exchange of high-beams with every oncoming car or overloaded semi. Deviations from the pattern are grounds for revenge.

It was clear that Nelson took it as a personal attack if someone left their high-beams on too long. Rightly so, for you can't see where you're going, eyes having only adjusted to moonlight. But his pride won't let it go.

The pattern: both cars have their high-beams on. Someone will eventually decide that it's time to drop them, even if they are still a kilometer apart (the weaker driver). The other driver has only a couple seconds to drop theirs before the first driver will take offence. A flash of the high-beams should wake up the other driver, but reaction times can be a bit slow. Eventually, both drivers will dim their lights, but this is where the revenge comes in...

Calvin & Sharon

(to be continued)

Etosha 3 Lions don't attack people in cars

 It was hard to resist the urge to roll up my window, for it seemed an easy matter for one of these predators to jump in beside me. Apparently, lions don't attack people in cars as they only see you as prey once you've stepped out. Getting out to fix a flat tire can be an unsettling experience.

With the lions having departed for the trees, we drove off, along with four other cars who also witnessed the morning show. Just like clockwork, a volkswagen camper van with an elderly couple raced towards the waterhole, excited to see so many cars -- an obvious sign of something exciting. We didn't have the heart to tell them what they missed.

Night Games

You're not supposed to drive at night...

But daylight fell hours ago and we're still hurtling along the dark highway, Nelson at the wheel, chewing on biltong. Apparently this stretch is notorious for accidents. We're trying to cover another hundred kilometers or so, and the boredom of long distances begins to set in.

There was no way that I was going to fall asleep, as it quickly became apparent that drivers here play little games to keep themselves awake. What I watched was a game of reaction time and pride, heightened by the thought of a car crash.

Calvin & Sharon

(to be continued)