25 March 2007
Hi everyone,
I just finished sorting through all the pictures I took from my slightly altered vacation fun. Instead of going to the Rhino Trust campground as planned, I went on a much more extensive guided camping trip. The first plan got cancelled because of a few lacking areas: availability, funds and interest—not much you can do without them. However, I managed to get myself invited at the last minute on this other trip with a group from Rössing Uranium (a mining company here), and the rest is history.
The route took us from Swakop to a place called Spitzkoppe. From there we went up to a campsite at Brandberg, the tallest mountain in Namibia (2,700m), and made camp for a few days while traveling around to various old mines through some beautiful country. Then we brought another route back to the coast and down to home today. The whole point of the expedition was to educate Rössing guests on environmental issues: ecology, poor mine closure, local communities, water issues, conservation, etc. That doesn’t sound too interesting, but I actually had one of the better times I’ve had since arriving. Hopefully, I can pass a little of that on below.
The trip started at 9am on Thursday. After meeting up at the Rössing offices, we hit the road and headed for a lone mountain cluster called Spitzkoppe. Now, in Namibia, mountains aren’t like they are in Idaho so don’t think huge. Picture a couple of hills in the middle of the flat desert that look like knuckles and you’re on the right track. The local community of indigenous peoples runs the place so we took a few minutes to talk to them about how the system works, how it came about, and so on. I hear climbing the mountain makes for a sweet view, but we didn’t have time in the schedule for that. So we took off and began looking for a nice shade tree under which to eat lunch.
Have you ever tried looking for a needle in a haystack? Because trying to find a tree big enough to shade 8 people in the desert is up the same alley. We eventually settled with an old, broken concrete slab that had once been the base for a house built on the riverbank. Needless to say, in a country with rivers that only flow above ground once in a LONG while, the homeowner had grossly miscalculated the coming flood and unknowingly provided us with an overheated lunch spot. Lunch itself was good, but none of us could finish it all. The jackals are probably still loving us for leaving the leftovers.
We continued on towards Uis (where we were to meet our guide) with one stop at an abandoned tin mine. This was the first of a few I would see over the weekend since, being with miners discussing the environment, part of the point was to look at poor mining closures in the area. I think the place was called Nine Eyes. The ‘highlights’ were a series of deep pits, probably between 5 and 15 meters deep. I gave one of the guys a scare by getting a little too near the edge for his liking—which was pretty entertaining for me. It did seem pretty dangerous, though, to have giant holes in the ground for anyone to fall into. Luckily the only people around were a couple of guys raising goats. The one I met appeared to be pretty sure footed.
Once in Uis, an old mining town, we met up with our guide, Peter, at a nice little rest area build with help from the Austrian government. There weren’t throwing any shrimps on the ‘barbie’ unfortunately. He took us to see the large, abandoned tin mine there. Apparently at some point in time when the price fell, people thought it was a good idea to pull up the stakes and leave town. Once again, havoc was left behind. This pit was huge. I’d guess it made an oval ¾ mile long, ½ mile wide and at least as deep. It was enough for me to imagine attaching a zip line to the top of one end and at the base of the other in order to make a few dollars out of the mess. The pool of ground water in the bottom looked dangerously green, but it still looked like a solid venture. Another guy had started a brick factory nearby, using some of the scrap rock dust as a base for his product. From what we were told, it provides the only jobs to the people who were living in an otherwise ghost town.
From there we moved on to our camp near the base of Brandberg—‘fire mountain’. I found out a couple of days later where that name came from when the sun threw its morning light on it. The site was beautiful, and the accommodation just as nice. Our tents were semi-permanent with actual beds (or maybe cots) inside. I shared with a guy named John since they were double-occupancy. The food was cooked at Peter’s little plot. He fed us magnificently. I’ll hold off for a minute and dedicate a paragraph to that momentarily. The lodge for the owners was about half a mile away and merits a description. The fenced yard was very well kept with a little pool, a couple tame Springbok, lots of grass and a great view of the terrain nearby. Inside the lodge was even better. The dining room area looked very proper through the door. The bar was made of a large piece of driftwood with nice padded stools in front. In the same room, the lounge area consisted of several very comfortable couches where two tame Mirror cats showed their affection… until you didn’t give them any food or drink. Then they were off to the next person. All in all, it was a nice place to relax after the long journey from Swakopmund.
Now for the food: yummy! Two dinners that would’ve made the entire trip worthwhile by themselves were Oryx stew and a braai meal of Oryx steaks with game würst (sausage). Oryx is a game animal that has a phenomenal taste to it. I’ve seen a couple alive, but sorry all you animal lovers out there—I much prefer to see it steaming on my plate. Whether it be stewed with potatoes, carrots and rice or fresh off the fire, I’m a fan. For anyone coming to visit, I’ll try to recreate the experience; everyone else gets to use their imagination. Last night I ate 4 steaks of varying sizes in addition to würst and sides. There was a Herero guy with us—a tribal affiliation that is well known for their love of meat and meat only—and he got left in the dust of my hunger I’m proud to say. The other meals were tasty as well, but my mouth is already watering so I’d better move on.
Friday morning, we were up, fed and on the trail bright and early so as to avoid the extreme heat on the way up on of the Brandberg mountain valleys to see the ‘White Lady’. The White Lady is a group of ancient rock paintings dating back as far as 5000 years. Ironically, the central figure is neither white nor a lady. The artwork depicts life of nomadic tribal people: specifically the medicine man, or healer. It all got mixed up when some crazy French guy came down and concocted a story about some shipwrecked Egyptian princess or something. His version doesn’t hold any water, but I guess the cost/benefit of changing the name and re-marketing a popular tourist destination to leaving it weighs in his direction. The hike up to the site was about 2.5 km (about a mile maybe?) and we got to see some cool nature along the way. Peter is about as knowledgeable about plants and animals as one can be, and the mine guys were good with geology so the poor local guide didn’t get to put in her own two cents very often.
I should stop and describe the group a little here. Along with my manager, Katie, and I were two other non-Rössing people: Thomas and Helga, some Germans who’ve recently emigrated from old Deutschland. They were good fun, although I did feel a little bad that they didn’t catch all of our speedy English conversations. I found out we’re sort of neighbors, so they may re-appear in my future posts. Peter is a former South African who never made good friends with the apartheid government, and has spent the last 40+ years involved with conservation in one way or another. The dude knows his stuff, and gets fired up sometimes about problems with environment, government, etc.—probably comes with his dissident blood. Chris was a HR guy from Rössing who did his college in the States, partially in exile. He’s the Herero one. John was a safety guy from the mine. I think his origins were Botswanan. He was a different character that made us chuckle with his well-repeated phrase: “Is it?” (That’s the Namibian version of “really?”) Tim’s an American safety guy at the mine who just happens to be married to a MYO volunteer. His geological knowledge helped to make the rock stuff really interesting to me—not an easy task. His good friend, Brian, works in processing at Rössing. He’s a Zimbabwean born South African who also holds a British passport. The mix accurately predicts his wide array of knowledge. Listening to the conversations between him and Tim in the truck was probably the highlight of my weekend. The guys knew a lot about a lot and really fed off one another to make it all very informative, yet entertainingly funny. I really can’t overstate how much I enjoyed learning about a wide variety of things from these guys and Peter. I hope I get to spend some more time around them in the coming months.
Back to the story. After the White Lady hike, we took the rest of the day off to relax. Apart from a short drive up the river and riverbed with Peter, Tim and Brian, it was an afternoon in the shade with cold drinks. We called it a night early after the above-mentioned stew dinner to get ready for a long drive around the mountain in the morning.
On the road by 8:30 or so, we spent the first half of the day just driving slowly through some preserve areas. As interesting plants, rocks and animals appeared, the truck stopped long enough for explanations, looking around and/or pictures. We saw evidence of desert elephants (stripped trees), spotted hyenas (dung) and black rhinoceros (tracks). To be honest, I’m not sure if I should feel luck or disappointment for not seeing any of them. I did get to see a lot of animals throughout the day, though. I crept as close as I could to my first herd of zebra, and came as near as ever to Springbuck. Also making the list were Steinbuck (mini-antelope thing), Oryx and Kudu (like an elk).
Lunchtime found us at the Rhino Trust. I am so glad I didn’t rent an expensive 4x4 and traipse all the way up there. It was really hot—probably over 100 degrees F—and I wouldn’t have lasted more than a night before heading back to the campground up the coast from here. Lunch was nice, but we were all eager to head out on account of the heat and the time. Before leaving, we were treated to something straight off Animal Planet: a wasp taking out a big spider that had wandered into the wrong place during daylight. That was wild stuff to watch. Go Africa!
In the beginning, on the way to Spitzkoppe, we had stopped at some stands on the side of the road to look at what the small miners’ wives had to sell. Now we were headed to visit the small miners themselves and bring some water. By small miners I don’t mean individuals of small stature who dig for minerals, but instead private people who eek out a brutal life on the mountains near Brandberg. In a secluded desert area and with very little water, these guys chip out quartz with hand tools to sell for their means of existence. Sometimes it’s tough to see how people live, especially when little kids are involved. But they’re a little community, complete with a beat up pool table under four poles and a tarp. They didn’t seem downtrodden at all. I guess like any hard-working, blue collar person the world over, they go to work, take care of business and don’t feel sorry for themselves. It’s kind of inspiring.
Now it was time to head the rest of the way around the mountain and back to camp. Once we made it down from the small mining camp, the 150 remaining kilometers started flying. (We were back on a flat gravel road—I didn’t see anything paved from Thursday afternoon to Sunday afternoon.) Once back at the lodge, we enjoyed our respective iced beverages either in the lounge or out back watching cricket on satellite TV… I was in the latter group. Once the first innings or half was over, we went back to camp to cook the magnificent steak dinner. After eating, Peter and I went back to watch the end of the match. Sitting under a canopy was nice since the heat dissipated with the suns disappearance. But having bats swoop a few feet away for another pass at the bugs circling the lights wasn’t quite as relaxing. I managed to keep my cool, though. No one else was very bothered by the whole ordeal and I didn’t want to look like the wuss foreigner.
That brings us to today. The only thing on the agenda except getting home was a stop at a nearby dam. I got confused when I heard this since damming an ephemeral (underground most of the time) river seemed weird. It turned out to be rather interesting. Apparently they build a wall of earth to keep the water from flowing out to sea (where it will evaporate) after a big rain. The idea is to slow it down and make it seep into the ground to replenish the ground water. A little different from what I’m used to. No water-skiing here.
So now I’m home and relaxing before heading back to MYO tomorrow. The break was very nice and effective. I was glad to get out of town, get some distraction and learn a lot of stuff I’d never have known otherwise.
Miss you all lots. Have a great week.
Beau
P.S. Sorry family for missing your early morning calls Thursday. I think my sleep cycle was set to vacation.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Let there be fire!
Here are a couple of pics from my first attempts to make fire and cook with it here in Namibia. I've done it with some help before, but as you can see from the smile on my face, I thoroughly enjoyed conquering the beast on my own. I had some moments to recollect how the first men to harness the power of fire must have felt... and now I feel a kinship with them.
The Purple House
Hey everyone!
I'm just experimenting with adding photos to my blog so I figured what better place to start that with my house! We call it the purple house and MYO staff have lived there since MYO came into being 4 years ago. My windows are the two up top in the back. I have a pretty good view of the main street from my window. (Since it's high enough up to overlook the giant cement wall with electrical wire on top that surrounds our complex.) The last photo is a picture of the sunset I got a month or so ago when I was feeling artistic.
At the top of the first mountain, looking down at the valley
18 March 2007
It’s been a pretty uneventful 3 weeks since I last posted anything—at least from an adventure standpoint. We have a short week coming up since 21 March is the Namibian Independence Day, so hopefully I’ll have a good story about the camping trip we’ve got in the works (more about that later). Life at MYO has still been very busy, and I’m really looking forward to the break. I’ve had a pretty challenging month of March both inside the classroom and out.
Two of my 7th grade students up and quit the program a couple of weeks ago. One of them had some problems last year with being bullied, and the same thing had been bothering him this year. The last spark for his short fuse was lit when someone started taunting him in class for knocking over a pencil holder and he responded by throwing one of the spilled pencils across the room at the kid’s head. It was the kind of situation that would be funny to watch on TV, but not the sort of thing you want in your classroom. I sent both culprits out, gave the other kids a worksheet and went outside to talk to them. All the thrower said was, “He made me do it! He made me do it!” So then I tried to find out what was actually said to him to make him launch a pencil in my class, but all I got for my effort was a good view of his back marching out of the facility and out of MYO. I followed him as far as the front gate but I guess he didn’t want to talk (the ignoring my calls for him to stop and talk with me tipped me off to that). A few visits to his mother at the local fruit and vegetable store were less productive than I would have hoped. All she could tell me was he didn’t want to come back to MYO and apparently he even told her he had come to tell me that in person following the incident. I asked her to give him a personal invitation to come talk to me about whatever was going on, but I still haven’t seen him. Too bad. He was a very bright kid.
The second student left me a note on a book report form that said, “Mr. Beau, I can’t come back to MYO. I’m sorry it had to end like this.” At first I thought it was some kind of joke from one of the other kids, but then I noticed the handwriting matched. Even then, I was a little skeptical. Then he didn’t show up for a couple of days and I got worried. So I had to go visit his mom, who’s a teacher at one of the local schools, and get the scoop from her. Once again, she seemed to respect her son’s decision not to be in the program despite my best sales pitch on his future, etc. This time, however, the kid responded to my invitation to talk things out, and after a long sit down with him I convinced him to come back. His issues were similar to another one of his classmates who has recently spoken with me about needing more of a challenge academically. So I’ve figured out a couple of ways to help them get some more advanced work while still catering to the rest of the class, who are not quite on the same level yet. Let me tell you: teaching is CHALLENGING. Every time I get a little part figured out, another big chunk of difficulty hits me in the head. I guess it keeps me on my toes—which I like—but learning to tackle each problem with patience and determination is a real test.
In addition to all the challenges inside the classroom, life outside the classroom has been a little rocky as well. I think I’ve passed the “honeymoon stage”, as Rob likes to call it, in Namibia, and for the first time I’m experiencing homesickness. Africa is a little more difficult than Europe was. I’m definitely at a different stage of my life than I was at 19—when I was just eager to get out and experience something new. Now I’m a little older and more settled into my ways, perhaps with better appreciation of the relationships I have with my family and friends. It’s hard to fill that void of family and friends here because there just aren’t a lot of people my age, who share the same interests as me, etc. I’ve met one guy that I go play pool with most weekends, but other than him, it’s just me and the roommates. They’re still great, although I start to get a little claustrophobic after I spend 16-18 hours a day, 7 days a week, with the same company so there’s starting to be a little tension in the house. I don’t think the fact that I’m the only guy around helps either—nothing like a gender imbalance to strain any situation. Then, on those days that you just want to be alone, you can’t just pop in your headphones and just duck your head so as to blend in here. It’s impossible. I stick out like a sore thumb. I’m white, for one. Two, I don’t look like an Afrikaner or German, so everyone assumes I’m a tourist. Three, once some people on the street hear “American”, they get visions of dollar signs dancing in their heads. Anyone who knows me can pretty much imagine how irritating I might find the events that follow any of those assumptions.
None of the above stuff is all bad, however. As usual when anything in my life starts to change, I have been doing a lot of soul-searching. My bout of homesickness has been an eye-opening experience in that it’s forced me to realize how significant the people around me have become. I like the fact I miss my family and friends. I like knowing I have matured enough in the past few years to understand I’m not the only important person in my life. The difficulties at work are forcing me to come to terms with my own weaknesses. The past couple of years have brought their share of trials which have made me look within myself for the strength to continue after making mistakes, and I think this year will give me enormous opportunity to hone that skill. I know now that I will not ever teach young people as a career, because I don’t have the desire or, quite frankly, the patience… but I am still striving to be the best teacher possible for these kids. That’s going to take a lot of trial and error, and I’ve been preparing myself for the struggle ahead. Losing a kid doesn’t feel very good, but hearing from another teacher that one of my students really likes having me as a teacher is just as moving in a positive way. At the end of the day, these kids make all the difference. The hardships they overcome each and every day make my petty worries seem so insignificant.
Switching gears to the long weekend I mentioned earlier, we’re planning a camping trip up to a place called the Rhino Trust or something. Rob mentioned it when he was here, and I’ve been itching to get up there ever since. Apparently, there is some good hiking to be had near the campground along with the chance of seeing some desert rhinos and elephants that travel via the riverbed nearby. The place is located about 3 hours or so from here. We’ll have to rent a car to get up there since no public transport goes anywhere in that direction (which sounds glorious to me). It will be nice to get out of Swakopmund, even if only for a couple of days. School only runs Monday and Tuesday this week, so we’ll have Wednesday through Sunday off. I think the camping trip will be a Thursday-Saturday thing, but the details haven’t been hammered out just yet. I suppose we should get on that.
I should also mention that my plans to study German have gone out the window. They wanted N$920 for the course, which would have chewed up a significant portion of my per diem this month. Overall, it wouldn’t have been too expensive as far as language courses go, but I have better ways to spend my time and money in Africa. So instead I’ve been heading down to the local playground court on Tuesday/Thursday to show Namibians how we play basketball back home. The first time I went was pretty rough considering how long it’s been since I have even touched a basketball—let alone played an actual game. But after that things started coming back to me and now I’ve gained a little bit of a reputation as a guy you want to pick as your teammate. Some of the guys are pretty good, though, so we’ll have to see how much I can improve over the course of the year. It’s quickly becoming my second area of extracurricular focus next to pool. There’s another area I plan to come home far more skilled than when I left. Look out Paul Newman.
Before I go, I’d like to thank everyone for the emails recently. I love going to the internet café and coming back with lots of news from home. Hope you all have a great week, and I’ll get news of my camping adventures out as soon as I can. Last, but not least, Happy Birthday Trisha! Sorry I won’t be there to celebrate, I could really use some ice-cream cake right now… mmmm.
It’s been a pretty uneventful 3 weeks since I last posted anything—at least from an adventure standpoint. We have a short week coming up since 21 March is the Namibian Independence Day, so hopefully I’ll have a good story about the camping trip we’ve got in the works (more about that later). Life at MYO has still been very busy, and I’m really looking forward to the break. I’ve had a pretty challenging month of March both inside the classroom and out.
Two of my 7th grade students up and quit the program a couple of weeks ago. One of them had some problems last year with being bullied, and the same thing had been bothering him this year. The last spark for his short fuse was lit when someone started taunting him in class for knocking over a pencil holder and he responded by throwing one of the spilled pencils across the room at the kid’s head. It was the kind of situation that would be funny to watch on TV, but not the sort of thing you want in your classroom. I sent both culprits out, gave the other kids a worksheet and went outside to talk to them. All the thrower said was, “He made me do it! He made me do it!” So then I tried to find out what was actually said to him to make him launch a pencil in my class, but all I got for my effort was a good view of his back marching out of the facility and out of MYO. I followed him as far as the front gate but I guess he didn’t want to talk (the ignoring my calls for him to stop and talk with me tipped me off to that). A few visits to his mother at the local fruit and vegetable store were less productive than I would have hoped. All she could tell me was he didn’t want to come back to MYO and apparently he even told her he had come to tell me that in person following the incident. I asked her to give him a personal invitation to come talk to me about whatever was going on, but I still haven’t seen him. Too bad. He was a very bright kid.
The second student left me a note on a book report form that said, “Mr. Beau, I can’t come back to MYO. I’m sorry it had to end like this.” At first I thought it was some kind of joke from one of the other kids, but then I noticed the handwriting matched. Even then, I was a little skeptical. Then he didn’t show up for a couple of days and I got worried. So I had to go visit his mom, who’s a teacher at one of the local schools, and get the scoop from her. Once again, she seemed to respect her son’s decision not to be in the program despite my best sales pitch on his future, etc. This time, however, the kid responded to my invitation to talk things out, and after a long sit down with him I convinced him to come back. His issues were similar to another one of his classmates who has recently spoken with me about needing more of a challenge academically. So I’ve figured out a couple of ways to help them get some more advanced work while still catering to the rest of the class, who are not quite on the same level yet. Let me tell you: teaching is CHALLENGING. Every time I get a little part figured out, another big chunk of difficulty hits me in the head. I guess it keeps me on my toes—which I like—but learning to tackle each problem with patience and determination is a real test.
In addition to all the challenges inside the classroom, life outside the classroom has been a little rocky as well. I think I’ve passed the “honeymoon stage”, as Rob likes to call it, in Namibia, and for the first time I’m experiencing homesickness. Africa is a little more difficult than Europe was. I’m definitely at a different stage of my life than I was at 19—when I was just eager to get out and experience something new. Now I’m a little older and more settled into my ways, perhaps with better appreciation of the relationships I have with my family and friends. It’s hard to fill that void of family and friends here because there just aren’t a lot of people my age, who share the same interests as me, etc. I’ve met one guy that I go play pool with most weekends, but other than him, it’s just me and the roommates. They’re still great, although I start to get a little claustrophobic after I spend 16-18 hours a day, 7 days a week, with the same company so there’s starting to be a little tension in the house. I don’t think the fact that I’m the only guy around helps either—nothing like a gender imbalance to strain any situation. Then, on those days that you just want to be alone, you can’t just pop in your headphones and just duck your head so as to blend in here. It’s impossible. I stick out like a sore thumb. I’m white, for one. Two, I don’t look like an Afrikaner or German, so everyone assumes I’m a tourist. Three, once some people on the street hear “American”, they get visions of dollar signs dancing in their heads. Anyone who knows me can pretty much imagine how irritating I might find the events that follow any of those assumptions.
None of the above stuff is all bad, however. As usual when anything in my life starts to change, I have been doing a lot of soul-searching. My bout of homesickness has been an eye-opening experience in that it’s forced me to realize how significant the people around me have become. I like the fact I miss my family and friends. I like knowing I have matured enough in the past few years to understand I’m not the only important person in my life. The difficulties at work are forcing me to come to terms with my own weaknesses. The past couple of years have brought their share of trials which have made me look within myself for the strength to continue after making mistakes, and I think this year will give me enormous opportunity to hone that skill. I know now that I will not ever teach young people as a career, because I don’t have the desire or, quite frankly, the patience… but I am still striving to be the best teacher possible for these kids. That’s going to take a lot of trial and error, and I’ve been preparing myself for the struggle ahead. Losing a kid doesn’t feel very good, but hearing from another teacher that one of my students really likes having me as a teacher is just as moving in a positive way. At the end of the day, these kids make all the difference. The hardships they overcome each and every day make my petty worries seem so insignificant.
Switching gears to the long weekend I mentioned earlier, we’re planning a camping trip up to a place called the Rhino Trust or something. Rob mentioned it when he was here, and I’ve been itching to get up there ever since. Apparently, there is some good hiking to be had near the campground along with the chance of seeing some desert rhinos and elephants that travel via the riverbed nearby. The place is located about 3 hours or so from here. We’ll have to rent a car to get up there since no public transport goes anywhere in that direction (which sounds glorious to me). It will be nice to get out of Swakopmund, even if only for a couple of days. School only runs Monday and Tuesday this week, so we’ll have Wednesday through Sunday off. I think the camping trip will be a Thursday-Saturday thing, but the details haven’t been hammered out just yet. I suppose we should get on that.
I should also mention that my plans to study German have gone out the window. They wanted N$920 for the course, which would have chewed up a significant portion of my per diem this month. Overall, it wouldn’t have been too expensive as far as language courses go, but I have better ways to spend my time and money in Africa. So instead I’ve been heading down to the local playground court on Tuesday/Thursday to show Namibians how we play basketball back home. The first time I went was pretty rough considering how long it’s been since I have even touched a basketball—let alone played an actual game. But after that things started coming back to me and now I’ve gained a little bit of a reputation as a guy you want to pick as your teammate. Some of the guys are pretty good, though, so we’ll have to see how much I can improve over the course of the year. It’s quickly becoming my second area of extracurricular focus next to pool. There’s another area I plan to come home far more skilled than when I left. Look out Paul Newman.
Before I go, I’d like to thank everyone for the emails recently. I love going to the internet café and coming back with lots of news from home. Hope you all have a great week, and I’ll get news of my camping adventures out as soon as I can. Last, but not least, Happy Birthday Trisha! Sorry I won’t be there to celebrate, I could really use some ice-cream cake right now… mmmm.
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