Namibia weblog 2005

11th November 2005

We spent four days camping in the Kakaoland area of Namibia, as part of the VSO Global Education programme, designed to let volunteers immerse themselves in national issues and then be able to disseminate information appropriately. Our burning issue this time was the proposal by the government to flood an area of outstanding natural beauty, complete with waterfalls and clinging baobab trees, and create a dam which would then provide water to generate hydro-electric power to service the country’s pressing need for power. Currently Namibia imports electricity from South Africa, except during the few months of rainfall when a small hydroelectric power station at Ruacana can operate.

It makes sense. But the local issue is a tough one. The Himba people inhabit these lands, following their traditional way of life, as roaming pastoralists, avoiding all attempts to become ‘civilised’. For them the proposal is terrifying. It will rob them of thousands of hectares of grazing land and, worse, it will flood sacred burial grounds. Worse, it will introduce a large number of itinerant workers and with them, HIV.

Our visit involved getting into the Ruacana hydo-electric power station and learning what we could about its systems and output of power. It was an awesome sight, a colossal underwater system of tunnels and enormous pipes and pumps, the water pouring through with an amplified roar and the mixed smells of engines and river water filling our senses.

We visited Himba villages and talked to the people about their lives. We then had two separate meetings with Himba chiefs and stakeholders in the Dam project: one day for those who were supporting the scheme and one day for its opponents. Each group presented their viewpoints, passionately at times and the impact of the presentations was that we were inevitably swayed one way or another. Each speaker, strangely, managed to persuade me against their cause. The objections they raised were often petty and parochial. National good was hardly commented on. There was deep suspicion that the government were not to be trusted and that promises of water pipelines and electricity would not materialise.

It was unbearably hot in our two campsites and we used leisure times to seek shade. Some of us were lured into the river by the thought of getting cool and enjoyed blissful moments before there was a sighting of a goat carcass bobbing in the water, being tugged down by crocodiles. Everyone got out pretty quickly. A few walkers were prevented from leaving the dry falls area by a drunk policeman who wanted passports; later his superior officer came down to the campsite to apologise. We lazed and chatted and watched the river flow by and ate wonderful food. Later in the Himba town of Epuwo some gloriously giggly dancers were brought in, leaving alarming traces of ochre all over the minibus, and they stamped and clapped and danced for us and dragged us into the circle to stamp and do chicken dances with them. We had a great time doing a range of activities. We had a spectacular barbeque when a sincere Afrikaaner admirer of a Dutch volunteer physiotherapist brought along a whole goat, pre-roasted and simply delicious.

For me a real high spot came when we visited the newly built lodge in the town and I had a swim in their pool. It was one of those pools with no apparent edge, the water just slides over an invisible rim and you feel as if you are swimming in infinity. The sun was setting and I swam until it got dark, just loving being alone in the water with mountains in front of me.

At the meeting to determine what was the next issue to investigate we agreed to explore wildlife management on game farms and national parks. Michael and I are on the organising committee, so we look forward to some interesting planning. Cheetah conservation…

THE NEWS SHEET

We had to write commentaries on assorted aspects of the trip for a news sheet. I wrote about the promotional video made by a group opposing the Dam construction. Michael wrote about the shopping for the trip.

Ochre and Water:

The video started in a heart stirring way, with the poignant image of an old man teetering on his stick, his cloak billowing round him. He was a Himba and the voice-over was his words, speaking of a terrible poetic dream he has, a prophecy, of his life and his people being washed away.

The images given to us were powerful. They showed the lifestyle of the Himba people in fascinating detail. We saw the beautiful strong young men of the village as true pastoralists, herding their valuable cattle, calling them by blowing a horn and then opening into a haunting powerful song. We later saw them gathered together in a kraal and bringing down a cow, wrestling with horns until the creature’s face was pressed into the earth and then killing it with the hacking blows of a machete. We saw the busy community packing away of all their possessions as the whole group moved to a new area of pasture.

Cut through these scenes of a life quite set apart from any that we know, were the details of new possibilities for the men.

The team who were making a feasibility study of building a dam were proving to be irresistible. The Himba men were fascinated by the technology, thrilled by it, keen to work and be part of it. The prophecy of the old man was coming true. Images of rushing water and the loud roar of Epupa Falls were overcome by the more powerful sounds of helicopters and bulldozers.

The Himba girls could see the advantage of progress. A car carries water more quickly than a lithe body can. Two Himba girls laughed and complained that they needed to walk many miles to go to the place where they knew they could get their hair braided. Progress saves time.

The lives of the Himba are clearly threatened by the dam, their fragile way of life, their essential grazing grounds, are threatened by progress. The old man and his supporters, desperate to fight for his people and their traditional ways, set out to plead with whatever European powers they could approach. Somehow the images of the Himba culture set against the busy city skylines of London and The Hague were incongruous and their efforts seemed futile. The sounds of the Falls still roared through the narrative, reminding us of their mission to save Epupa for the Himba, not to surrender to the good of the nation without defiantly stating their claim on the ancestral lands and a way of life.

The ancestral graves close to the falls are an issue: the spirits of the ancestors are threatened. A grave is a sacred place. We witnessed the burial of a chief and the power of the rituals was compelling. The men, in mourning, tear off their hair cloths and shake out their hair into a wild chaos; what symbolic image could more aptly show the confusion and desperation of these men in their loss? Loss, of course, is the core issue in the battle of Epupa Falls. Whose loss will it be? The old man, standing alone in the vast scenery of his ancestral lands prophesies his loss, and the loss of his people.

Shopping

When the Dutch are in charge of a trip and the shopping has to be done the biggest item on the list is cheese. Apparently. We were asked to do the first section of the shopping for over thirty people and our list came through with, surely, some huge mistakes. How can that many people POSSIBLY require 5 kilos of cheese? I sent a worried text message to the organiser to put things right. But the reply came back with a simple explanation. WE ARE DUTCH. We eat cheese all day, for breakfast and for lunch and…..So I did some careful research on cheese prices.

The Spar was offering a brilliant special deal on bread and cheese. So we did the shopping for cereal and jam and eight pots of peanut butter and twenty four boxes of milk etc etc in Oshakati and went back to Ongwediva for the BIG CHEESE DEAL.

We collected thirty loaves of bread and rushed to the cheese shelves.The deal had not arrived. All that we could see were slim packages of cheese at under ten dollars. We do not get put off by small problems like that, so we crouched down and started counting up the packages to make five kilos.

The basket filled up. A crowd gathered. I lost count and had to begin again. We emptied the store of cheddar and asked for more. None. We continued our attentions on the Edam. We emptied the store of all their cheese. People were staring at our provisions and the manager came and asked if we were having a party. He looked at the baskets and I could see him thinking WHAT KIND OF A PARTY IS THAT? Just cheese.

More to follow...

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