Finland in the Dark Continent

A Journey Through Southern Africa

Copyright 1989-1993 by Richard Bollar - All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

Namibia

We left the park after checking the guns and headed to the border post. The border was marked by a large green highway sign that said 'Entering South West Africa' in English and Afrikaans. Just on the other side, was a tent manned by three South African soldiers.

We completed the exit cards, got our passports stamped, and continued on our way. I was particularly impressed by the fact that they could read the bar codes on our visa stickers. There was no check point for the Namibian side. Though Namibia is independent, South Africa continues to administer all external affairs.

{nah-mib'-ee-uh}

Namibia (formerly South West Africa) is a vast, sparsely populated country on the southwestern coast of Africa. It is bordered by Botswana and Zimbabwe on the east, Angola and Zambia on the north, and South Africa on the south. Namibia gained its independence on Mar. 21, 1990, after more than a century of foreign domination and international intervention. The League of Nations entrusted administration of Namibia (a former German protectorate) to South Africa in 1915. After World War II, South Africa administered Namibia in defiance of international law, sending in troops as black nationalist movements gained momentum in the mid-1970s. In 1988, South Africa accepted an international settlement that led to independence for Namibia. Windhoek is the capital.

History and Government

The earliest known inhabitants of Namibia are the San, hunters and gatherers whose presence dates back some 11,000 years. In the mid-1400s, Bantu-speaking peoples from East Africa began migrating southwestward to Angola and northern Namibia. By the early 1700s, they had pushed southward into the central Namibian plateau.

The first European to visit the area, the Portuguese explorer Diego Cão, arrived at Cape Cross in 1485. Soon after, the Dutch East India Company (see EAST INDIA COMPANY, DUTCH) began exploring the Namibian coast from their station at Table Bay (now CAPE TOWN). In 1773 the Cape government proclaimed Dutch sovereignty over Angra Pequina (Ludderitz), Halifax Island, and Walvis Bay. The Cape Colony and all its possessions were formally ceded to Britain in 1814.

By the early 1800s, British and German missionaries arrived in the interior. Namibia became a German colony (German South West Africa) in 1884, although the British had annexed Walvis Bay in 1878. The German settlers expropriated African lands and assigned Africans to reserves. Between 1904 and 1907, Herero and Nama rebellions against German land policies were brutally suppressed. The Herero were reduced from 80,000 to 15,000, and the Nama from 20,000 to 9,000.

During World War I, South African troops invaded Namibia and forced the Germans to surrender. Namibia (then South West Africa) was administered by South Africa under the League of Nations (see MANDATE SYSTEM). After World War II, in defiance of the international community, the South African government refused to hand over administration of Namibia to the United Nations. It ruled the territory directly for much of the period prior to independence and established a society based on separation of the races (APARTHEID).

Nationalist resistance groups formed in the 1950s and 1960s, and in 1966 the South West African Peoples Organization (SWAPO) took up arms. The UN General Assembly formally terminated the South African mandate in 1966 and changed the name of the territory to Namibia in 1968; UN Resolution 435 of 1978 set forth a formula for Namibian independence following UN-supervised elections. Pressure from the international community and escalation of the fighting along the Angolan border by Cuban forces persuaded South Africa in 1988 to accept Resolution 435 as a framework for independence.

A UN-supervised cease-fire took effect on Apr. 1, 1989, and elections were held in November for an assembly to prepare a constitution for an independent Namibia. The constitution established a multi-party democracy headed by an executive president limited to two 5-year terms and made the practice of apartheid a criminal offense. On Mar. 21, 1990, Namibia became an independent nation, with SWAPO leader Sam NUJOMA as executive president. The constituent assembly converted itself into the National Assembly (lower house of parliament). An upper house (the National Council) was to be created in 1992.

Land, People and Economy

Namibia is mainly arid or semi-arid. The 80-120-km-wide (50-75-mi) Namib Desert extends along the entire coastline. A semi-arid mountainous plateau ranging in altitude from 1,000 to 2,000 m (3,280 to 6,500 ft) covers the central part of the interior. To the east are low-lying extensions of the KALAHARI DESERT and the Karoo desert. Along the border with Angola are bush-covered plains, including the fairly high rainfall areas of Kavango and the eastern CAPRIVI STRIP.

The perennial rivers are on the borders: the ORANGE RIVER in the south and the Kunene, Kavango, ZAMBEZI, and Kwando-Linyanti rivers in the north. The Kunene and Orange rivers flow westward to the Atlantic Ocean; the others flow eastward and southward. The country's high point, Brandberg, rises to 2,573 m (8,400 ft).

Although Namibia is one of the most sparsely populated countries in Africa, it has a diverse population. Its eleven ethnic groups are, in order of size: the OVAMBO (who live primarily in the north and constitute nearly 50% of the total population), Kavango, whites (mainly persons of South African and German origin), HERERO, Damara, KHOIKHOI, COLOREDS, Capriviane, SAN, Basters, and TSWANA. Most of the people live in the north, where they are engaged in subsistence agriculture. Many Ovambo men are employed as migrant laborers in white-owned mines and farms to the south, and unemployment is high. Because of the inequitable distribution of land and resources, the majority of the people are poor. (Before independence, Namibia had been run as an extension of South Africa. Whites owned 65% of all private property, and social services for black in rural areas had been seriously neglected). In addition, the violence accompanying the independence struggle disrupted many aspects of normal life, including commerce, education, and agriculture.

Namibia's economy is based on mineral exports--gem-quality diamonds and base metals--and agriculture and fisheries products. Much of the profit from exports has gone to South African or international interests. Almost all manufactured goods are imported. WALVIS BAY, Namibia's chief port, is still occupied by South Africa despite Namibian claims, and economic ties with South Africa remain strong. During the period of South African occupation, nearly 100,000 troops were stationed in Namibia; the government is heavily indebted because of high military expenditures during the 1980s. At independence, Namibia's new leaders declared their support for a mixed economy and sought foreign investment to reduce the economic dependence on South Africa.

We decided that we would have enough time to head on to Hardap Dam, about 350 kilometers away. The drive took us to Twee Rivier (not to be confused with Twee Rivieren in the park) and then north towards Stampriet. Twee Rivier means 'three rivers,' but in this desert, it was difficult to imagine water actually flowing through the depression. I remembered a National Geographic special called 'Sands of the Kalahari' that showed the growth that happens right after the very brief rainy season.

I watched as more wires were added to the telephone poles as we passed each new ranch. What started as only two wires became two then four then eight then a whole maze. The telephone wires were the only real indication of civilization. No central power, but everyone has their own phone. Even in the desert....

Well, obviously I was getting bored if I was screwing around looking at telephones. The drive was going to be a fairly long one, and the scenery was becoming monotonous. Pat slowed up and pulled into a driveway leading to a ranch. I hopped out to open the gate so the Land Rover could pass through, still wondering what we were up to.

Pat didn't stop to let me back in, so by the time I huffed up to the house, John, Pam & Pat were already out and talking to the rancher. Pat was speaking in Afrikaans, so I didn't understand much. We went around back and found two cheetah in a twenty by twenty pen. The rancher had trapped the cats because they were killing his livestock. He was feeding them Springbok instead of his valuable livestock!  Much like zoo cats, these guys were fat & happy. We took a few rolls of pictures (after all, we didn't know if we would have a chance to see any cats in the wild; and in any event, we wouldn't get this close), thanked the rancher and continued on our way. On our way out, I noticed the satellite dish. A CNN junkie?

I sat in the back for the first time while Pam sat shotgun. John and I sat in the nest and enjoyed a nap. Just short of Stampriet, the road became surfaced again. The quietness woke us up, and we were awake for the remaining seventy kilometers. Outside of Mariental, we saw a train loaded with vans with 'U N' stenciled on the side. The United Nations was arriving in Namibia as we were.

The Hardap dam is the main source of fresh water in this part of Africa, and it's a recreational site as well. The ranger station was on a promontory overlooking the lake and as Pat arranged the lodging, we looked at the people fishing and sailing. A display showed silhouettes of the fish that live in the lake, including a large mouth bass that looks completely different from any bass I've ever seen. It was easily the ugliest fish I've ever seen.

It was off season, and we had a dormitory that slept thirty to ourselves. Pat & Pam went off to shower while John and I started a fire in one of the grills. Dinner was fine, and I was cheered by the report that the showers were good. We listened to the water splashing against the banks below and prepared for bed.

Too bad we left the windows open. About a bezillion mosquitoes were working their way into our enclave. We quickly closed the doors and windows and fogged the place, causing a veritable mosquito massacre. I went to bed with a clear conscience, though and slept well.

Friday, May 5 was not a picture day, so we didn't have to get such an obscenely early start. I was up at dawn, though and took a shower. The pressure and temperature that Pam & Pat had enjoyed were gone, gone, gone in the morning. One could hear the shrieks from John and me as we hit the cold water. John, masochist that he is, shaved. I decided at that point that I would go without. Marriott doesn't permit beards, and this would pretty much be the only opportunity that I would have to see what a fuzzy Rick would look like.

We came out of the shower to see a bird pecking at its reflection in the Land Rover's mirror...

The drive this day was to be fairly relaxing, a nice change from the previous two days. We headed west towards Sesriem, a camp right outside of the Namib Naukluft Desert Park. The drive was to be only about three hundred and fifty kilometers, and we would be there in the early afternoon. We stopped in Maltahohe to get provisions. Knowing we wouldn't have an opportunity to resupply for several days after this. It was my first opportunity to really go into the different shops. First into the Schlaghuis (butcher) for more woeurs, then to get some vegetables and finally to the bottle shop for some beer.

You may have noticed that our diet was a bit boring. It's true. The variety was poor, and we generally found only non-perishables like potatoes and onions. The butcher was better equipped, but we chose meats with a good shelf-life as our refrigerator was still occupied by film and beer.

Sossusvlei

The shopping completed, we drove to Sesriem and setup shop. The camp at Sesriem had only fourteen campsites, but we were able to select a good one under another of those baobab trees. Undaunted by the rocket science involved in pitching the three tents, we got the camp set up and entered into the park.

The entire coast of Namibia is park land for two reasons: 1) It's incredibly beautiful land with giant sand dunes (like 300 meters high) and 2) diamonds lie on the sand ready to be picked by passers by (seriously). Haven't you seen The Skeleton Coast? Well, this is south of it, but it's the same idea.

The road, which had been unpaved since Maltahohe became very sandy as we entered into Sossusvlei, the area with the best dunes. We were driving behind a Volkswagen Golf and we were all amazed that it didn't stall in the sandy road. It was so late that we only got a quick look at the sunset, but it was very nice to watch it settle down to the northwest.

Since we were really 'camping out' for the first time on the trip, the dinner of woeurs was especially good. Pat was a whiz at coming up with interesting accompaniments from his larder in the bottom of the trailer, and we were all quite satisfied at the end of the meal.

Being in the middle of nowhere, the park's generator cut off at 2000, leaving us in complete darkness and quiet. I looked up and saw stars for the first time. I mean I really saw stars! High up on the African plateau, in the southern hemisphere, at least two hundred kilometers from the nearest flashlight, much less the nearest town with streetlights, I saw more stars than I had ever seen by a factor of at least ten.

I lay on the ground and watched more stars appear as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was no moon, and after a few minutes the sky seemed so very brightly lit with stars. John came by and gave me a set of binoculars so I could look closely at some of the constellations (which I had never seen, of course, having never been this far south before).

I went to sleep in my tent, still dazed from that sight. Though it was cold out, it wasn't as bad as Johannesburg, so the sleeping bag and blankets made my sleep very sound as I drifted into Saturday, May 6....

I was having an incredible dream that involved Marilyn Chambers riding a zebra when I heard the pounding on the tent. It was John urging me to get a move on so that we could be on our way to the sand dunes. I stretched and started to work my way out of the tent, almost bumping my head on the cup of coffee that he was holding for me.

Sipping from the cup, I wandered over to the bathroom to relieve myself. It was right then that I realized that I didn't need to go and further, I hadn't for at least two days. Let's see: 12 beers a day x two days = 8.4 liters. That's a lot of fluid to retain. I mentioned it to Pat later, and he reminded me that in the dry heat, I was likely perspiring it away. Just imagine what would happen if I didn't drink!

The drive into the dunes took about an hour before we ran out of road. To preserve them, the road ended and we had to continue on foot. Pat, John and Pam carried about four hundred pounds of camera gear, and I carried my Canon, an extra lens, and several gallons of water.

The sun was low on the horizon, but it was already very hot. We trudged through the sand and climbed over what must have been a thousand of the 300 meter high dunes. I had no idea where I was, and only hoped that a wind didn't cover our tracks. Finally, after another hour of walking, we crested a hill and found Sossusvlei. We walked into what could only be described as a moonscape; a hard baked clay surface, marred by hundreds of huge cracks striating the dark brown surface. Set into this clay were about twenty petrified trees; the trees stood, and had several branches each, but must have been dead for hundreds if not thousands of years.

As we set up our gear, we surprised a gemsbok, a large, bluish gazelle. In the middle of this desolation, he was the last thing I expected to see. We couldn't get close enough for a decent picture of it, but watching him wander around through the trees and dunes was very entertaining, if not surreal.

Because of the difficulty in getting to this place, we stayed longer than planned, not heading back to the Land Rover until well after noon. On the drive back to the camp, I noticed that the sky that had been a crystal-clear blue earlier in the day now showed a few puffy clouds.

John and Pam prepared lunch while Pat and I tried to place our telephone calls, me to British Airways, and he to get the latest scoop on the mongoose picture. We had booked the calls the day before because the ranger's office was at the far end of a party line arrangement. We waited along with some Germans who were trying to call home, a somewhat more involved transaction, I imagine. Unfortunately, the lines were down and we would have to try again the next day. We bought some cold beer to buoy our spirits and walked through the ranger's rock garden back to our camp.

I noticed a cool breeze pickup as we ate our ham sandwiches and potato chips, and watched the sky darken as a wall of clouds approached us. These were the first clouds I had seen since my arrival, and knew if there was rain, it would be just about the only one this desert would see all year. As the wind gusted to 100+ kph, we checked our tent stakes and dove for cover from the rain....

Once the rain hit us, it was impossible to see anything at all past a foot or so beyond the tent, so I closed the flap and listened to the pounding of the water. The sound was soothing and I was able to rest peacefully for a few minutes before the rain stopped. As the rain ended, the wind started again, and I was treated to yet another hour of buffeting.

Finally, the noise subsided along with the light, and we emerged into the twilight smelling the sweet post-storm air. Amazingly the wind had dried everything off, so there wasn't even a problem with muddy ground. I set about getting the fire going with some briquettes and fire bricks while everybody else worked on personal business. Getting the fire going wasn't all that tough, but choosing the meal was. I opted to make shish-kebabs as our tomatoes weren't going to last much longer, and I added woeurs, onions and potatoes to round the kebabs out. The chili marinade added a nice touch to an otherwise boring kabob.

Pat came back with the ranger, whom he had invited to dinner. I asked if I might want to prepare something for the ranger's wife, but he said that she preferred to stay home. I pulled out a couple of beers and gave the warmer one to our new friend. He opened the can and sucked it dry in a gulp so I handed him my other can. Thankfully, he had a more modest thirst and I was able to take a beer for myself.

Pam and John returned from their showers, mentioning that the water was hot. "Of course it was!" said our ranger, taking great pride in keeping his water heated. I started thinking that a shower would be a good idea, as in my limited experience, hot water was a temporary thing. I put the idea off as our conversation turned inevitably to politics, and in particular, Namibian independence.

The ranger, a big, Germanic-looking guy wasn't in favor of independence at all. His dad was a rancher in the northern part of the country near Angola, and he felt sure that once independent, Namibia would go the way of most other African countries, i.e., Blacks would take control, go corrupt, kill all the Whites and completely destroy the industrial infrastructure. Just like Mozambique, Angola, Somalia, Uganda, Zaire, Zambia, Tanzania and everyone else.

Oh.

Well, I guess he did have a point; all of those countries suffered as a result of being set free from their colonial rulers. I would suppose, though, that the cause for failure was because the Europeans pulled out abruptly and left a power vacuum that was to be exploited by factions that had no experience at actually running a government. Angola and Mozambique, especially, fit that bill, courtesy of the Portuguese.

In reality, the only wealthy nation in Africa is South Africa and its reach is far. From funding the militant opposition in Angola, Mozambique and Madagascar, to providing tourism opportunity for the 'Finlandized' neighbors of Zimbabwe, Botswana, Lesotho, Swaziland, Malawi and now Namibia, the South Africans have their finger in everyone's business, and are the main contributor to the stability and instability in their region as they see fit. Despite the downside, I can't imagine this region without the South African influence. Who else would invest so much into public works and provide such a high standard of living to all of its residents? After all, South African blacks do have the highest standard of living on the continent (by western standards).

Okay, so even if the government's not corrupt, it is scandalous. And even so, their treatment of Blacks is reprehensible....

As the night wore on, we were able to drift away from politics. Next, I learned about his job. The rangers are really the social directors at these parks, not really the protectors of the environment. I learned this as Pat mentioned our drive into Sossusvlei that morning. Pat wanted to know if we would cause a problem if we happened to drive past the end of the road and continue into the basin. The ranger thought that would normally be okay, but the state government had a couple of scientists visiting from the university in Windhoek. Those guys had no sense of humor, and they'd probably tell on us if we trespassed.

It became late, and our friend went back to his wife (whom, I realized, was probably entertaining the twerps, uh, scientists from Windhoek). We sat back in the cool air and watched the stars, which were even brighter than the night before, which I would not have believed possible.

I slept well, and woke up first on Sunday, May 7, setting about some little chores like finding an outlet for my video camera batteries (and debated the problems with using the electric razor outlet in the lavatory). I risked a shower and found that the water was warm, if without pressure, and I took the time to thoroughly enjoy it. Checking my face out in the mirror, I noticed the light hair in my beard. Was it blond or gray? Hopefully it's just a lighter brown version of the rest of my hair.

The sun was up a bit when I came out of the lavatory, and I saw the dunes. Where yesterday they were a beige color, this morning, they were a chocolate brown. I sensed this was a big deal, and woke Pat up to have him take a look. On seeing the dunes, he just about had an orgasm. The brown dunes, you see, were because of the rain and were quite rare in a place that gets less than four centimeters of rain a year. Pat and I drove out and got some nice shots, returning as the rest of our crew were waking.

Another lazy day seemed appropriate, and we spent most of the morning getting sand out of our bags. The afternoon consisted of some shots near the edge of the dunes, showing the sand ending abruptly right onto the flat clay plain. Add a scrawny tree for framing and a puffy cloud for effect, and you had a quality picture. Separating from my group, I came upon a woman watching her husband take pictures with a large format camera. I can only imagine that this machine would take incredible pictures, because it was huge and intricate looking. His plates were glass, and he would change them while under a dark hood, giving him an appropriate turn of the century look.

The photographer was much too serious about his work for me to spend any more time with him, so I spoke with his wife for a bit. She looked about as bored as one could be and I felt sorry for her. But what did I learn? He was not a professional photographer (which I would have guessed), but was an attorney with a little bit of money to burn. They had married only last week, and had spent their entire time taking landscape still photographs. Frankly she was quite delightful, and I regretted hearing their sex noises later that evening.

On our return to camp, the engine was running a bit rough so Pat set about repairing it. What we didn't know was though he was a professional driver, he wasn't a mechanic at all. After about an hour of tinkering, he returned with the distributor in his hand and wondered if we might know what to do with it. It was getting too dark to see, so I suggested that we leave it until morning. In any event, three women arrived in one of those Volkswagen Golfs, and Pat lost interest in the Land Rover for a bit....

The women were college students from Kôln, Germany and decided to come to Namibia for a bit of a break. The Golf was rented for $200 a week, and they flew into Windhoek on one of Lufthansa's non-stop flights from Frankfurt. They had come from up north and said that the animal viewing was superb.

It was apparent to me that they really weren't going to be interested in us, but I knew that wasn't going to discourage Pat. He spent most of the evening with them, returning to our camp only when they told him that they were going to bed (without him). We were running low on supplies, and had a fairly meager meal of canned ham sandwiches and some canned vegetables. Beer, too was running low, but that shouldn't have been a big deal because the ranger should have some more for sale.

For some reason, even the sky didn't look quite right, so we didn't even look at the stars. I went into the tent with a flashlight and started reading some book that I had picked up in Washington. Washington! Wow, talk about deprivation; I hadn't seen a newspaper or heard any news for over a week now. I'm a real news junkie and realized that this lack of news was making me a little nervous. I made a mental note as I fell off to sleep to get one of those little Sony short-wave radios so that I could at least listen to the BBC or Voice of America if not CNN.

I woke on Monday, May 8 to the sound of Pat hammering on the Land Rover's engine. He was making a terrible noise, and it interfered with my enjoyment of the fried eggs with chili sauce that John had prepared. I took Pat's breakfast over to him and offered to give a try at the repair. He reluctantly accepted and let me at the large engine.

The problem lie in the fact that the distributor had fallen away from the engine. The engine roughness the previous day was caused by the timing getting more out-of-sync. We were fortunate to have made it back to camp. I started work on getting the distributor back into place, when some Germans from the other side of the camp offered to help. Not really knowing what I was doing either, I accepted. They were thrilled and pulled out some tool kit that was so huge, it must have cost a fortune to fly down.

They worked for another hour on the engine while my contribution was reduced to getting coffee, holding the flashlight, trying to start the engine and nodding gravely every time they swore about British engineering. Finally they got the engine to start and were able to secure the distributor in a position that actually made the engine sound pretty good.

Pat offered to pay the Germans for their help, but they said that they would rather have some stamps from the States. They gave a business card to John. Geeze, the guys were librarians from Messerschimdt. No wonder they knew what they were doing, even though this old Land Rover was a far cry from a fighter plane.

We were a little afraid to turn the engine off, so we loaded it up without switching off and drove over to the ranger's house to pick up some petrol and beer, and to try to make our calls again. They had the gas, but so sorry! We had consumed all of his beer. Further, the telephone lines were still down. Arg. A black cloud formed over my head....

Turning around, I saw black clouds forming over John's head too. Going cold turkey with the beer didn't seem to be a good idea. Pat noticed our mood and worked to cheer us up. "We must hurry on because the coldest beer in Africa is only a hundred kilometers away."

To be truthful, that did cheer us up considerably and knowing that we would be able to re-provision in under two hours worked well to offset the thirst that was setting in as the Land Rover got hotter and hotter. For the first time I noticed the road dust settling in on everything inside, on the dashboard, on the cameras, on me. I started getting a gritty feeling and I wished that I had decided to take a shower that morning.

As we crested each hill, we looked ahead to see if we might see this oasis in the desert. I pulled out my Michelin map and figured that we must be heading for the town of Solitaire. It was pretty much the only thing between Sesriem and Walvis Bay, our tentative destination for the day. Fortunately it was right then that we arrived in Solitaire.

Solitaire was not a town, rather it was a crossroads. A gas pump stood in front of a small building with two doors; one marked Trankwinkel (bottle shop) and the other marked Grocery. It took us time to find the proprietor, who was off the road a bit tending to his herd of cattle, but he set to fill the Land Rover's tanks while we shopped.

I was becoming familiar with the general store concept during my time here, though I don't ever remember seeing a real general store in the States. This place carried fewer than a thousand items, but each of them seemed essential. He had clothing and tools and household items, not to mention non perishable food stuffs and toys. We really only had a need for junk food, and he had some for us. We got a few bags of potato chips, some Cadbury bars and a few Kit-kat bars and pulled out Rand to pay for all the stuff. The proprietor looked past us to see that we were still alone, and wondered if we might, just perhaps, possibly be interested in making the purchase with dollars or Deutsche Marks. He would, of course, be able to provide a 'discount' for our trouble. I had dollars and we negotiated a ten percent discount for these items. I wasn't used to getting a favorable rate for exchange, but the South African Rand isn't directly convertible into western currency, and I'm sure that the owner was interested in holding as many dollars as possible as Namibia reached independence.

Now, we needed to get some beer. The proprietor ushered us out of the general store and closed and locked the door behind us. We walked ten paces over to the bottle shop and watched him turn the 'closed' sign over to 'open' and unlock the door for us. Must be one of those weird licensing things.

Behind the counter, there was a pretty good supply of liquor, but over to the side, a Kelvinator chest freezer from at least 1950 if not 1940 drew our attention. In big letters, it said 'Beer.' We opened the top and looked into the fog to see several cases of icy beer; frost forming on them as the little humidity that there was in the outside air settled on them. Since we were going to be in the city that evening, there wasn't need for more than twenty or thirty cans. We selected an assortment of beers, consisting of different flavors of Hansa and Windhoek beers....

Variety? Yep, Namibia was a German colony from 1878 to 1915, and in their very brief tenure the industrious Germans exported most of their culture, including great beer. To this day, Namibia has three official languages, German, English and Afrikaans, and the public works projects are decidedly teutonic in nature.

We got a few different flavors of beer, paid in dollars and loaded up the Land Rover, which we had left running because of our continued fear that it wouldn't restart. As we were leaving, another of those ubiquitous Golfs drove up and three very attractive French women got out. Pat homed in on them, but they told him to go screw off, in so many words. Ah, the French! I mused about this trend of seeing three women in Golfs and asked them in French where they had been. They had been up in Etosha, they answered in English, and the animals had been plentiful. Also, they would appreciate it if I would speak to them in English, as it pained them to listen to my French (which, up to this point, I had always considered passable).

After a few more pleasantries, we got in the Land Rover and continued our journey north. I inspected our packages and noticed that everything we had purchased was still within the expiry date. I guess this place was pretty popular, being the only thing around for over two hundred kilometers. I had a slight fear that the beers would be frozen, but I needn't have worried. The significantly higher alcohol content made the beers extraordinarily cold, but definitely not frozen. I quickly sucked down two of them because they tasted so great. Pat comes through again!

The drive to Walvis Bay skims north, across the Steenbokkeerkring (Tropic of Capricorn) to avoid most of the diamond areas and then heads due west straight to the coast through a restricted diamond area. As we turned west, the terrain became mountainous. We were descending from the African plateau down to the coast. We wound through the jagged rocks, and noticed that the traffic was a bit heavier. Finally, many ear-popping minutes later, we reached the bottom, and saw a perfectly flat plain stretch out in front of us.

Ahead was our groomed, unsealed road and a sign that read, 'Diamond Area. No stopping. In case of breakdown, stay in your vehicle and wait for assistance. -Kimberly Mining (Pty) Ltd.' How ominous! We kept up speed and drove along the plain drinking our warming beers, watching as we passed lookout towers along the way.

About midway through the seventy kilometer drive through the restricted area, Pam said that she had to go to the toilet. Now. We stopped the Land Rover and helped Pam out, cautioning her to stay on the road in sight of the tower. Pam did her business and crawled back into the back. We didn't see any activity from the towers, and we continued on our way, feeling just a little fortunate.

As we approached the coast, we were shrouded in a heavy fog that made us come up on the South African border post just a bit faster than was prudent. Several young soldiers carrying automatic fire weapons ran out from their tent as we stopped just short of the gate....

Okay, so the border guards were a little irritated that we left a skid mark on their nice little road, but what can you do? I knew what I was going to do... Be really quiet so long as the guns were pointed at my chest. Ah, welcome back to South Africa!

South Africa? Yep, through a freak of politics and military strength, the town of Walvisbaai (Walvis Bay) is part of South Africa. Through a deal as weird as Guantanamo Bay, Cuba being a US Base, Britain annexed the bay for the Cape Colony of South Africa in 1878. Today, this decision seems to be especially propitious as Walvisbaai is the best port in the area, and the only one with the depth to accept deep tonnage cargo vessels. All mineral exports from Namibia pass through this port, and so too go a third of the profits.

The territory and port city of Walvis Bay (1978 est. pop., 25,000) is a South African exclave on the coast of Namibia, covering an area of 1,124 sq km (434 sq mi). Fishing and fish processing are the most important industries. It was annexed by the United Kingdom in 1878, incorporated into the Cape of Good Hope in 1884, and administered as part of Namibia from 1922 to 1977 when it was returned to the direct control of the Cape Province

As it turns out, the mining operations in South West Africa are owned either by South Africans or by Western multi-national corporations. The royalty payments are small, and aside from the assistance that the South African government provides, amount to the rape of the country.

Ah, but I had more important issues to tend to right at moment. The soldiers were obviously nervous about something, but they seemed to be a little cheered that we were Americans. We were allowed to get out of the Land Rover, and it was then that I noticed a second rank of soldiers, these with bright blue berets. Hey, it was the U.N.! These soldiers also had weapons, but they were slung over their shoulders and behind them, they had a white trailer with the letters 'U.N.' stenciled on the side. It seemed to be much nicer accommodations than the tent that the South Africans hung out in.

In the tent, we filled out the arrival cards and went through the standard questioning. At this point, even that didn't make me tense anymore, and the answers just spilled out. Interestingly, since the whole Namibian independence thing was pretty recent, so too were these border posts (which explains why they were only tents). Of course, since Namibia didn't really have a government yet, there weren't any border posts on their side.

As Pat completed the paperwork on our vehicle, I noticed that the weapons (which now seemed to be on safety) seemed to have been made in Israel. It just figures, doesn't it?

Having completed the paperwork and receiving a new bar-coded visa from the South Africans, we continued on past the U. N. trailer into Walvisbaai. This was the first big town that we had seen in several days, easily the largest since Johannesburg, but still much smaller, of course. .

The overcast sky was quite a change from the heat and sun we had experienced earlier in the day. It was actually pretty cold out. We decided that we didn't want to stay in Walvisbaai as they only had Castle beer, and headed north to Swakopmund. The drive along the coast wound through caravan parks and small guest hotels, but the cold South Atlantic ocean was always visible crashing onto the sandy beaches below. The wind coming off the ocean blew sand across the paved road making it difficult to see exactly where road ended and beach began....