EJ's Travels

Since I had plenty of time to spare it was suggested I make a side trip to Zambia and/or Zimbabwe to see Victoria Falls, one of the 7 natural wonders of the world. From Onamatadiva in the north of Namibia where I traveled with Maria and friends, I caught the Intercape bus which took me farther east to Livingstone, Zambia. The town is named after David Livingstone, the 1st English explorer to lay eyes on Victoria Falls in 1855.

I first set off to see the falls on foot. I had been encouragaed to take a look from both the Zambia and Zimbabwe sides for differing perspectives. However, it cost another $50 US to cross into Zimbabwe and enter the park so I decided that money would be better spent elsewhere. I was warned I would get wet. The spray from the falls can be seen from as far away as 40km on a clear day. Walking beneath the falls at this time of year when the river is at its highest is like walking through a tropical rainforest when it is pouring rain. I didn´t just get wet, I got absolutley soaked.

It is difficult to describe what an impressive sight it is. The sheer force of the water as it spills over the edge is hard to comprehend even when staring directly at it. The sound is thunderous. The ever changing cloud of mist is surreal. I could only began to grasp the monstrosity of the falls from my vantage point on the ground. It is 1.7km wide and drops between 90 and 107 meters into the Zambezi Gorge. At its lowest level in late November/early December as little as 20,000 cubic meters of water pass over the falls every minute and the falls remain virtually mist free. During flood stage between March and May at which time I visited, as much as 500,000 cubic meters plummet over the edge. It is certainly no wonder why people travel from every direction simply to behold its magic.

First view of the falls

A little closer… the ever-present mist

Notice the folks wearing raincoats…useless!

The boiling pot below the bridge linking Zambia and Zimbabwe

Me soaked after viewing the falls from below!

Verdent monkeys were everywhere!

Originally I had hoped to raft the Zambezi river known for its roaring rapids. Unfortunately since the water was at full capacity, the rafting companies were closed for the time being due to unsafe conditions. Alternatively I decided to see it by air. There were a few options for transport, but the one that appealed most was the Tiger Moth. Think ‘Out of Africa’. The novelty of flying in this open air machine was worth the expense alone. Combined with the all-encompassing view it afforded of the falls, it was nothing short of spectacular.

Introducing the tiger moth!

Old school!

How does Meryl Streep make this look good?

A rainbow in the mist from a distance

Aerial view

Zambezi gorge

Another angle

Now do you understand why I got drenched?

see more photos at: http://ej.smugmug.com

It seems it is human nature to be fascinated (and all too many times fearful) by that which is foreign to us, especially when it comes to other members of the human race. This is made evident with the token visit to a Himba village which no Namibian tour is complete without (mine would come later). These interruptions into their daily lives seem to walk a fine line between serving as an educational opportunity to gain an undestanding of an ancient culture and an opportunity to exploit an already marginalized people with a strange curiosity akin to that with which we view animals in a zoo. I can only imagine what they must think of our requests to peer into their lives while capturing it all on our fancy digital cameras.

In the case of both the Bushmen (also known as San) and the Himba tribes in Namibia the fascination for me is more of an immense respect for soceities which still live life so deeply connected to the earth and its natural environment in a world where our food is prepackaged, our dependence on limited resources grows, our need to leave our home or office vanishes with the advancements of technology, our patience is replaced with an expectation of now, and the majority of us are too distracted with {fill in the blank} to be aware of our own bodies, let alone mother nature and the delicate relationship between the two.

Bushmen used to populate a large part of Southern Africa, but today their hunter-gatherer culture has been almost extinguished. Farmers and cattle breeders have seized much of their land and mining companies and national parks have also contributed to the demise of their traditional way of life. As hunter-gatherers they could recognize more than 35 species of edible mammals, birds, reptiles and insects and list more than 250 edible plants. They would cover up to 2500 miles per year in search of game. Today many of them earn a living as farmhands or survive on the outskirts of villages without any prospects.

Charitable organizations such as UNESCO have arrived on the scene with the best of intentions to help these displaced communities. Every once in a while they succeed, but as is the case with aid all over the world, their attempts are often in vain or gravely misplaced. Tractors are given when there is no petrol to run them, elaborate plans are devised to provide electricity for houses which don’t exist, and more money is spent on executives making visits to these villages than on the villages themselves. But, here in Onamatadiva a new school had been built and would soon begin educating a new generation of Bushmen children. Some of whom had walked as far as 60km alone to reach this village when they heard a school was being built. And it was our mission to paint a mural on the outside of that building.

Our presence seemed a continual source of delight and entertainment, something out of the ordinary. They don’t often get visitors in this remote village, especially white ones. I understood nothing of thier language spoken with clicks, but all that needed to be said was communicated through smiles and kind gestures. And, of course, through the univesal language of dance! It was the weekend and I am not exaggerating when I say that if they weren’t sleeping or eating, this village of young and old alike was dancing. From first light to well after dark the sound of drums and singing was audible. And with it, the well-rehearsed movement of bodies unfamiliar with restraint was visible. Bodies that know to dance before they can walk. Bodies that celebrate the gift of music in an otherwise quiet existance. Bodies that truly feel what it is to be alive.

Before the painting began

Despite their faces they begged to have their picture taken and
absolutely loved looking at their images afterwards!

Cleopaz looking for last minute inspiration

My playmates while the rest were at church

Everyone took their turn in the circle

Their hut-like homes

The finished product

A very happy bunch of people!

see more photos at: http://ej.smugmug.com

I arrived in Windhoek, Namibia, Africa, after 36 hours of travel from Buenos Aires. I was met at the airport by Susana who I spent many days trekking through the mountains of New Zealand with 5 years ago. Susana is ... [Continue reading this entry]