From Etosha to the Desert

Unfortunately, Yarrow and I were plagued by some bad travel luck... We took off on a five day safari with three men we hardly knew. It seemed like the best idea at the time because we were not old enough to rent a car... and they graciously offered to take us along. Also, upon arrival in Windhoek, Namibia, we were feeling a little bit uneasy and were feeling the culture shock. These new travel friends were our comfort in the initial period. I won't go into detail, but halfway through the trip we realized that they were not the kind of people we wanted to travel with... SO we ducked out of the situation and made our own way. This scenario sort of masked my experience in Namibia so far, but now we are free and able to focus on the good things. We learned along the way from both the positive and negative aspects that occurred. So here's to new beginnings...

 

We began our journey in Etosha National Park in central Namibia. Namibia is exceptionally beautiful. The freshness of spring is in the air. Tiny, helpless baby animals are everywhere—frolicking in the greenness that will soon turn into dryness. The summer is the wet season… it lasts only two months and then for the rest of the year, extreme desert conditions. Within the park we managed to spot lions, zebras, giraffes, ostriches, jackals, and countless species of birds. The scenery was unreal.

The sky is endless. There is no sky like the African sky—it stretches on for miles and miles with hardly any mountains to interrupt its vastness. Clouds are delicate and bubbly. Light shines through them like the heavens are stretching down to meet the earth. When it rains, it rains like the gods are furiously trying to punish and drown the world below… And the winds, the winds are like a stampede of a thousand wispy horses, dashing and thrashing through the atmosphere.
Lighting wildly cracks its whips on the dry earth of the Savannah. The midday sun is so blisteringly hot that even the lion is humbled by its ferocity. Then the fog rolls in to blanket the sun and the scarce mountains like they never even existed.

I’ve never felt so close to the heart of the initiation of everything. I know they’ve got some new theory about how humanity began in Israel, but I’m fully convinced that Africa possesses the soul of the world. In my opinion, after seeing it first hand, this is where we all come from—the raw, intense, vast lands of Africa. I can feel the history. I can see it in the ancient rock art that will forever be engraved into the stones of the desert. I can feel it in the wind that blows from the sand dunes, out over the sea. I can sense it in the eyes of the natives. This is home, Mama Africa.

Side note:

On the shuttle ride home from Swakopmund to Windhoek… Yarrow and I were the only two white people on a bus of about fifteen. The ‘shuttle bus’ was actually an old beat up Volkswagen—the speedometer was broken, the side window was hanging on its hinges, the seat belts didn’t work and to top it all off the driver was blasting Britney Spears as we sped (at an unknown speed) through the desert of Namibia. It was a beautiful moment.