And back to Nebraska...

Home again. A blizzard closing in from Kansas and Colorado. Friends and family. Too much to do before Christmas. Realizing how far it really is between Namibia and Nebraska. No really good way to close out this blog.

Maybe a toss backward to some favorite blogs of the year. A year in review:

January: Kelly's report on shopping
February: Larkin locked in the men's room
March: We tackle our first camping trip with the Bates family
April: We visit Uapii's farm (also Tristan's story)
May: Larkin blogs about wildlife ownership in Namibia and Tristan saves a ship full of sailors
June: Nebraskans visit and some insights on nature from Namibians
July: Polytechnic students eat our classroom exercise, Mom and Dad Powell visit, and we have fun at the Zambian border
August: a bit about poaching, Namibia comes apart at the seams, and Larkin is passed over in the early 'weeding out' phase of the Mr. Polytechnic competition
September: birds in the house, Kelly's pre-school kids, WIS Sports Day (Tristan's blog), and baseball
October: Larkin's brother, Noel, visits
November: We braai a turkey and Larkin is investigated by the Sewage Board
December: We look at one last sunset in Namibia

"Certainly, travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that
goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living."
--Miriam Beard

Thanks for traveling with us this year. It's been a pleasure.

Out of Africa: culture shocks and more problems with pants

We made it safely to London, and Tristan's first 'wish' for his return the northern hemisphere came true. McDonald's in Victoria Square Station in central London. A year without fast food. Wow, those fries tasted good!

We started noticing some odd little cultural things as we walked through the Frankfurt airport. One of those over-the-top jewelry stores was right next to the gate where we disembarked from our plane from Namibia. I turned to Kelly and noted that this was quite different than buying jewelry from Himba's. Quite a little culture shock to our system.

Waited for a train for London's Underground on an above-ground platform in the snow and wind on the way to the hotel. Temps hovering at about -2C. It was 38C in Windhoek on the day we left.

For those of you who remember Tristan's problem with his pants on the way to Namibia last December, you will have to laugh along with this 'pants update'. When we went to claim our luggage today, in London, Tristan's bag was nowhere to be seen. This time, it was not Dad's fault. Blame British Airways, I guess. But, once again, Tristan is living on one pair of pants for a day or so in London. One pair of everything, actually. His bag is supposed to be delivered to our hotel tomorrow.

Last Namibian sunset

The house is clean. Car ("Poly") has been returned. Bags are packed. Good-bye's are said. Family is still talking to one another.

We are away from Windhoek on a local farm near the airport, spending our last night in Namibia. Still shaking our heads that this is over.

The last sunset did not let us down. A great farewell display from a country that has been a pleasure to explore.

Hunting with Orion

It was a nice surprise to see Orion when we arrived in Namibia,
Although the image of the hunter plunging headlong with his sword into the night sky was odd.
A world upside-down.

But, regardless of angle, we had a friend in this new land.
A sun-loving celestial body who had joined us on our journey from frigid North America for more southerly pursuits.

Only in the southern hemisphere does Orion promise warmth and long days.
And he was true to his word.
Until, one night, we searched and realized we’d been left alone. No hunter to guard our night skies.

Winter. Planning evenings around when we could use the space heater or how long we could stand cold tile on our feet until escaping into piles of blankets.
A warm bed. A long winter with unfriendly stars.
Orion was hiding behind the sun and even the sun is shy during winter.

Last week, we looked up and realized our friend had returned.
The hunter had found us, and with him came warmth, rain, and longer days.

But we were like the houseguest who stops by to break your morning and then tells you she must leave because she has something much more important to do than to talk to you.
Orion was back. A reminder to us that we had to leave.
To apologize while walking backwards.

To travel north long after the birds have gone south.
To find ourselves in darkness and cold again.

But, still, with Orion.
Our connection between grassland and bushveld.
A messenger between worlds.

And so, we will sit in the cold and we will dream of summer.
We will dream of hunting with Orion.

--L. Powell, Otjiwarongo, Namibia

"Beneath the Sand": your invitation to our photo show

If you have nowhere else to be on Friday, January 22, 2010, consider stopping by Hardin Hall on UNL's East Campus from 3:00-4:30 pm.

Our family has thought a lot about how to share our year with our family and friends. We've taken 13,500 photos during the year. Each of us (Larkin, Kelly, and Tristan) has really enjoyed being behind the lens at one time or another, and Namibia is a wonderful place to capture imagery.

So, the Powell Family Photo Show was born as one way to share our experiences and the stories behind the photos. We call it "Beneath the Sand: a photojourney of our year in Namibia."

You're invited. Stop by. Seventy-two of our best photos (in large-format) and some of Larkin's writing will be on display in Hardin Hall's Second Floor Lobby. We'll also have some of our other interesting 'finds' from the year (probably a basket or two). Some Namibian games for kids. And, a bit of refreshment. Maybe some mopane worms...

The photos will remain on display during 22-29 January 2010. Here's a little video teaser to tempt you (click play button).

Photo credits. Tristan: cheetah cub; Kelly: roller, meerkat, Himbas, and lion.

If you are a glutton for punishment...

...you can bookmark my new blog, designed for everyday use in environs away from (but potentially including, again, someday) Namibia.

It's called A Land Ethic and will include: "Ideas, information, and discussions regarding conservation and wildlife management in the Great Plains and beyond."


Sorry, "Nebraska to Namibia". Kind of feels like I'm about to go behind the chicken house and put my old dog down. Didn't mean it that way...you did your job. Over 8500 hits as of today, an average of over 60 per day. Not too shabby for a blog from Nebraska written by some guy with just enough time on his hands to be dangerous.

Only a few posts left until NTN becomes a time capsule. Hope you have enjoyed the ride.

How big is Africa?

One of my high school friends, Chris, works quite a bit in Africa. Recently, he posted this graphic on his facebook page. In the thieving, sharing spirit of the world wide web, I've grabbed it to post here (it does have the original source listed). Interesting, eh?

Another 'neighborhood product' from southern Iowa, Amy, did a Fulbright stint in Malawi earlier this year. She has a great post and follow-up about people confused about where the "capital of Africa" is... The general point is that Americans don't know much about Africa. Now, be honest and admit it...when we told you we were coming to Namibia, you didn't know where it was did you? Well, until a few years ago, neither did we.

Well, after a year in Namibia, we probably don't know all there is to know about Namibia, much less the rest of Africa. But, we do know that Africa is not a country. And, now you know how big Africa is.

It is not a bad idea to learn more about Africa. China is investing strongly in many African countries as there are raw materials to be had. Namibia, for example, is bound to become one of the largest uranium exporters in the near future. There are many interesting books about the current "neocolonialism" or re-colonization of Africa. A fellow blogger in Namibia this year, Amanda, has a couple of good blogs (here and here) about people and NGO's coming to Africa. In fact, I commented on the topic myself, once. The future of Africa is up for grabs, it appears. Stay tuned.

Little dots on a map

Kelly had a great idea earlier this year. We started putting dots on a highway map of Namibia to show where we had stayed the night or visited. Pink dots for night stays and yellow dots for visits or tourist stops during the day.

We had three groups visit us in Namibia, so those trips added to the dots. Some dots had little "L"'s or "T"'s on them to show that was a place that Larkin or Tristan stayed the night without the rest of us.

Not including our house in Windhoek or our initial hotel in Windhoek, we have stayed at 37 different places in Namibia during the year. Eight of those are "Larkin only" (mostly communal conservancy research and Polytechnic excursions with students) and one is a "Tristan only" site (his school excursion).

In addition to these 37 lodges/camps/farms/guest farms, our map has 29 yellow dots indicating major stops to visit some kind of tourist site or other destination. This does not count all of the tourist destinations in Windhoek or nearby.

The gaps in our map (no dots) are the Kalahari in southeastern Namibia, the far northwest region of Namibia up near Angola, the area around Fish River Canyon in the far south, and the area in far eastern Namibia, below the Caprivi. We made it to Zambia and Botswana, but not South Africa. You have to leave some for next time, right?!

We had a goal, when we came to Namibia, of seeing the country. I designed my research to get us away from Windhoek and out around this diverse country. Kelly set an aggressive budget agenda to save money for traveling. I think we met our goal! I doubt we can say we've stayed in that many places or seen that many destinations in our home state of Nebraska!

One last trip, and now...let the packing begin

After Tristan's last day of School, we had time to squeeze in one last trip together. Larkin is finishing some interviews with commercial farmers, so we headed up to an area north of Windhoek, near Otjiwarongo.

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We spent a night with the Beckers, a husband and wife that we met in a cafe in Otjiwarongo during a trip with Larkin's brother. They invited us to come by their farm, as Peter had spent time in Nebraska in the 1970's....even on East Campus at UNL (where Larkin works). We had a great time on their farm. They are members and officers in the Kalkveld Conservancy, so we worked an interview in during our stay.

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We then visited the Waterberg plateau, where Larkin had spent time with his students during the past year. We stayed at the guest farm of the president of the Waterberg Conservancy, and also completed another interview.

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Then, it was off to Kamanjab to deliver 51 copies of the CD we created for the Kamanjab Combined School Choir. A whirlwind trip through a country that is starting to 'green up' after new spring rains (photo above is of a rainstorm on the plains near Otjiwarongo). Lots of calves in cattle yards and young kudu, oryx, and impala. Spring has arrived in Namibia. Our photos of the trip are on the Picasa site.
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Now, the packing begins in earnest.

With a little time and some scissors...

First, the legalese.... Tristan has given permission for his likeness to be used in this blog, so long as we don't make too much fun of him. So, we will try to not cross any ethical lines....
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This story happened while Dad was at the CCF Training Course last week, and Mom was helping Tristan get ready for school. For a bit of background, Tristan has been growing his hair longer, and longer this year. Evidently, it had reach the point where his bangs were in his eyes.

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So, the decision was clear. It was time to get the bangs cut. So, while Mom was not watching, he went to the mirror with a pair of scissors and chopped off his bangs. Almost down to the roots. Then, he put a cap on and went to school. Mom noticed nothing.
.

When Mom picks Tristan up from school later that day, his hat is not on, and Mom thinks he has been attacked by some band of thieves during school. When Dad comes home from his trip, a giggling group meets him at the front door and the photo shows all:

Perhaps the most ironic part of the story is that we had our final haircuts scheduled for the next day with Sonja, our wonderful hairdresser from South Africa. So, she worked her magic, and with a little spiking and hair gel, Tristan is as good as new.

Parenting lessons to be drawn from this experience:

1. If Tristan offers to cut your hair, don't take him up on it. Although the bangs were cut fairly straight. Maybe with practice.

2. Just because you make it through almost 12 years without a hair cutting incident does not mean it will never happen.

3. Always make sure you stay in good terms with your hairdresser, just in case you need them in an emergency.

Cheetah Conservation Fund: International Training Course

During the first week in December, I was asked to come provide some instruction at the Cheetah Conservation Fund's International Training Course. The CCF holds a month-long course for biologists/managers from around African and in Iran...biologists who will benefit from learning about management of predators, especially.

I provided some material on mark-recapture analyses and also a lecture on decision-making in natural resources. I've enjoyed my interactions with CCF and its staff this year. There are some exciting plans about working together on various projects in the future, including a goal of having graduate students from Namibia coming to UNL to do their MS or PhD degrees.

Here is a photo journal of my 2-day stay at CCF.

The road into CCF. The Waterberg Plateau is in the background. I arrived in the evening, and it was like a nature drive on the way to CCF.

A warthog stops long enough for me to take his photo on the way to CCF.

The full moon rises over the Waterberg Plateau.

So, I'm sitting in my room, preparing my mark-recapture lecture, and I hear a rustling at my window. Turns out it is inside my room, on the window. A little gecko. Little reminders you are in Namibia and not Nebraska.

The participants in the mark-recapture theory lecture (my lecture) got to go out and experience capture of cheetahs for real. We set this cheetah trap near a 'play tree' using the tree as the bait...the cheetahs want to go sit on the tree. Here, the students shovel sand and grass inside the trap to hide the wires and trip-treadle on the bottom.

Our group (half of the students) with our trap, ready to catch a cheetah. There were students from 7-8 African countries and Iran.

Another mark-recapture technique. The students set digital trail cameras to capture photos of cheetahs. The CCF's research staff then use unique patterns of spots to identify the wild cheetahs on the photos. I am helping them analyze this data set.

One last drive around the CCF "Big Field" before I leave. Some hartebeest bid me farewell.

Exit stage left

It is just simply unbelievable that a year has past, and we are almost ready to board the plane and start the journey home. What a year, indeed.

This past Friday, I had my exit interview with Polytechnic's Rector, Dr. Tjama Tjivikua. The Rector and his office have done an extraordinary job to provide a smooth year for us, and it was a good conversation about the year and future plans.

If you want to read the details of my professional year in Namibia, you can see my final report (a PDF file) to Polytechnic of Namibia by clicking here.

Thanks to everyone at the Polytechnic for their assistance! In the photo below: the Rector, some guy from Nebraska, Ms. Neaveara Olivier (International Relations), and the Polytechnic's Director of Rectorate Affairs. They presented me a copy of The Atlas of Namibia.

One big reason to stay in Namibia

I know everyone wants us to come home. But, really, can you blame us for wanting to stay in Namibia? Here are two photos, taken on the same day. Where would you rather be? Shoveling snow or enjoying a cool swim near the Waterberg plateau?

Thanks to Joel, our friend and housesitter, for ruining our day with his photo of our house back in Lincoln after their lil' blizzard. But, interesting to compare to a photo we took almost exactly a year ago.

Thanksgiving in Namibia

For those wondering how the holidays are celebrated in Namibia, here's a list of what is happening at Thanksgiving time:

• We celebrated on Thanksgiving Day by going out to eat with our Fulbright friends, the Bates family. No turkey on the menu, and we realized it might be our last time at the Portuguese place that we've frequented in the past. So, we all ordered things we'd been looking at but hadn't ordered before. Larkin's monster beef kabob skewer was good. Kelly's grilled meat with beans and rice was nice. Reid wasn't sure what to make of his traditional dish that he ordered. When it arrived, it was garnished with a raw egg. Not in the description on the menu.

• The Windhoek holiday craft sale was in full swing last week. It reminded Kelly of the annual St. Mark's craft sale in Lincoln. Many local folks have craft businesses as a way to have some additional income, and Christmas was in the air.


• There is no Black Friday shopping day here. But, Kelly got a taste of Black Friday parking lot stand-stills when she delivered Tristan to a birthday party on Saturday. It was election day, and the party was held next to a polling place. And, next to a grocery store. It was the day after pay day. So, the election and pay-day combined to stop traffic in all directions.


• Turkey is not a typical thing to find in grocery stores here. We heard that the Spar, an up-scale local grocery, might have them. After searching for several minutes, we asked at the meat counter. They had them, but they were in the back. And, the only option was a 3-kg (about 6 pounds) turkey. But, nice birds.


• When Larkin was down south at Farm Namtib last week, he told his hosts that we were hosting a holiday dinner. They asked if we needed a turkey. Turns out these enterprising farmers, on the edge of the Namib Desert, raise a small flock of turkeys. So, just when we thought there might be no turkeys available in Namibia, we had turkeys running out our ears.


• We had the Nature Conservation department over to the house for Thanksgiving celebration on Saturday. The turkeys were cooked on the braai, and we added the braai 'doors' to make an oven. We compared two methods of cooking the turkeys. A favorite local method for cooking a chicken is to insert a 'tall boy' beverage can in the bird, so it roasts standing up with moisture delivered internally. One of Larkin's colleagues has taken this method to the extreme by welding a 'frame' to hold the can on the braai. We borrowed it. It turns out that the turkey's legs are a little longer than a chicken's, so the turkey appears to be relaxing as it grills, with the legs pulled out to the sides. We also tried the traditional roasting pan. We put a dutch oven with water beneath the birds to provide moisture and cook them with indirect heat (a suggestion from a turkey griller in the US...thanks, Brenda). The braai reached a fairly constant temperature of about 190 degrees F, and we cooked them for about 3.5 hours. The winner: tall boy. Hands down the fastest to the finish line. But, the turkeys were cooked well using both methods. Not quite as moist as the turkey bag/oven method, but quite nice.



• It is tradition at Namibian parties to bring your own meat. Even though we told folks that we were supplying hartebeest stroganoff, mashed potatoes, and turkey, our friends came laden with more protein. After the turkeys were cleared, sheep steaks and boerwors (sausage) were cooked up by respective braai-ers. We will miss the depth of the grilling custom that we've experienced in Namibia. It really is an art form, and worthy of copying the actual physical braai area, as well as spirit of gathering to socialize and enjoy an evening together.
• The rainy season has begun, in sporadic fashion. Late afternoon thunderstorms or showers are becoming more frequent.
• Windhoekers are preparing for the annual exodus to the coast, as temperatures rise. The whole town pretty much closes down as people move to their second homes or holiday rental homes at the coast. Kelly's preschool closes this next week, Tristan's school is out on Dec. 4 (no more baseball), Kelly's women's club had its last meeting until January, and many of Larkin's fellow lecturers are making plans for moving to the coast now that exams are over.
• We have much for which to be thankful. A great year. Now, off to pack.

The effects of trophy hunting on neighbors

Today, I visited the Seeis (pronounced "sea ice") Commercial Conservancy east of the Windhoek International Airport. I was at the farm of one of the leadership committee, where (ironically) I had hunted warthog earlier this year with our friends from Nebraska.

Commercial conservancies are groups of private landowners who come together in some form of agreement to share resources. The agreements vary, but often professional hunters can access land of various owners, and there are some projects funded by conservancies (wildlife research or marketing campaigns to encourage tourists to come stay at farms on the conservancy).

During my questions about how the conservancy was structured and what kinds of activities the conservancy offered, the wife offered an interesting perspective on the effects that trophy hunting has had on their neighborhood. I'll try to paraphrase her thoughts.

"Before trophy hunting began," she started, "we were all cattle farmers. We got together to braai, to talk, to socialize. Now, many of our neighbors have become professional hunters [a licensed status that enables you to guide hunts] and they are making lots of money from trophy hunting. It is quick money, and good money."

"But," she continued, "we never see them any more. They are always busy with their hunts. Every day of the week. We have trouble even scheduling one meeting a year for our conservancy, and even then some people don't show up. Cattle farmers had flexibility in their schedule. These trophy hunters do not."

"And," she said, "they don't really need us neighbors anymore. First of all, when things are going well, you don't need your neighbors as much. Things are going well for them. They are making lots of money. So, they don't need us. And, second, they have guests around all of the time. When we were all cattle farmers, we would get together just to talk to someone, because it's lonely on the farm. But, now they have hunting guests almost every day of the year, and they are tired of talking. So, we don't see them. It has ruined our neighborhood."

I have to say that I never thought of the social consequences of trophy hunting on neighbors in Namibia. Interesting, eh? This is why you go interview people....you can't make this stuff up.

On the edge of the Namib

Days of dust.
Dry days.
A cloud, and a smile.
Cattle. Counting the ribs as a countdown to death.
Crowding waterpoints.
An endless valley to search for good grasses.
A valley reminding every cow
It should have been born a goat or an oryx or a springbok.
Like a rabbit from a hat
Springbok pull greenness from dry grass that cattle pass.
And, then the springbok are gone.
Scrambling under fences
Away from cattle and goats.
Secreting to camps of pale green
Hidden where farmers don’t go.
The scent of rain, and springbok herds move.
Green grass will greet them.
Cattle watch behind fences as the horizon
Steals the clouds.
Dry days.
Good years, every so often.
A reason to stay.
A reason to push through droughts.
Years for growth and building
While there is money.
And then, without grass
The money goes away.
Survival.
Dry days.
Rocks make feet stronger
But shoes wear out faster.
Droughts make good neighbors
Who wait for rain together.
Bad years build stamina, character
And every drink of water tastes sweeter.
Miles from electricity
The stars tell bedtime stories.
The Namib makes men strong and smart
And makes smiles rare.
Lonely valleys build strong towns.
No churches but hotels
With big lawns and shade trees
And Saturday night dances.
Dry days.
Life on the edge.
Together.

L. Powell, in Helmeringhausen

Spending time in big, dry spaces

Last weekend, I ran down south to the Helmeringhausen area to interview some farmers about their commercial conservancy and private nature reserve. It's about 6-8 hours south of Windhoek and in the driest area of Namibia. Annual rainfall is 70-100mm, which is 3-4 inches.

You can't go through a space like this without having some admiration for the people who live there, and try to bang out a living on rocks and a little bit of grass.

Some photos from my trip are up on our Picasa site.

During the trip, I realized that Namibia, in general, makes you simultaneously want to quickly leave but also go back to examine what you just saw. It's a feeling we've had many times this year. Repulsion, but curiousity. Fear, but comfort. Anger, but contentment.

Here's how that feeling manifested itself for me on the way home from my trip south...

The Road to Maltahöhe *

Racing. My truck flies over stones.
Airborne as we come out of rainwashed ravines.
Towards Maltahöhe.

Uphill. All the way we climb
Through the wash plains of the plateau to the southeast.
The book says when Gondwana broke up and South America
Moved away from Africa
The edge of the continent lifted.
Free of Argentina. Free of Brazil.
Lighter. Floating on magma.
Then, the rains, eons of rains. And winds, eons of winds
Carved this lip, this newly freed land.
Now, plateaus make stairsteps toward the ocean
And rivers of rocks run to meet the sea.

Counting. I keep track of the years as I drive.
Layers in the plateau.
Ocean, desert, ocean.
Sand, limestone, sand.
Climbing. we pass through millions of years, surely,
As the road rises.
Towards Maltahöhe.

Contemplating. Why am I racing?
Isn’t this country to explore?
But, the rivers of rocks and carved stone suggest
What can happen if you stand still in this country.
The wind and the rain.
I listen to the rocks of the plateau and the wind gusting on my truck.
Still speeding
Towards Maltahöhe.

Aha, I say, as I see him.
I knew it, the rocks told the truth.
A farmer fixing the fence.
Living here on gravel plains beneath the plateau.
His forearms scarred like the cliffs, perhaps Acacia trees or barbed wire?
His face furrowed and tanned like sandstone. The sun and the wind.
His hands gnarled like a twisting, dead tree, grasping wire. Pushing posts through rock.
His leg misshapen like the valley. Perhaps a run-in with a leopard or a fall from horseback?
Look what this valley can do to a man.
I wave and push faster.
Towards Maltahöhe.

Escaping. I reach the town.
Atop the plateau.
Away from wind and rocks.
The streets are teaming with more farmers
Bartering for fencing and supplies.
Limping, twisted, slowed. The entire lot marked by the land.
I slow to watch.

Understanding. It is their way.
To push back against the wind and the rain.
To try to tame the veld.
To argue with Nature.
To stand in the middle of endless time.
To know your fate will be decided by the elements.
To shout at the cliffs.
Scarred, moved, and beaten.
A record of a life lived.
Really lived.
A life recorded on forearms, hands, and faces.

Envious. I want to go back
And drive slowly.
To stop and fix fence.
To stand under the plateau in the wind.
To live.
To live on the road to Maltahöhe.

L. Powell, near Maltahöhe

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* "höhe" means "hill" in Afrikaans. Maltahöhe is literally "Malta's Hill", evidently named by an early Afrikaaner who had a wife named Malta.

Buying the election

All kinds of fun stories leading up the election on Nov. 27 and 28th. When your political party holds power, and wants to keep it, it seems like nothing stands in the way of making a few 'gifts' before the election.

1. Several Polytechnic students report that the SWAPO government has paid their student grants in full (usually half) and added money to cover transport and books. I must say that I noticed a marked improvement in the fashion sense of many students after these funds were distributed. Some clothing stores made out fairly well in the deal. But, ask any student who they are voting for (now), and there is usually no hesitation!

2. The Namibian newspaper has been slowly tracking a story of special student bursaries (study grants) provided to students in Namibia by the Chinese government to study in China. One of my Ecology II students dropped out of class during the first month of the semester and is one of the lucky awardees. Turns out that the awards were given to children of influential SWAPO leaders. Read more about it in the New York Times, as part of their series on how China is buying influence around the world.

3. Article in The Namibian newspaper today about gifts of Toyota double-cap pickups given to each traditional tribal chief in Namibia (48 of them!). There is a wonderful photo of a line of white pick-up trucks waiting for their new owners who are milling around like kids in a candy store. They are gifts from the SWAPO party. No, wait. They are gifts from the taxpayers of Namibia...each was purchased with taxpayer money. If the chief cannot drive himself, the government provides a driver for him, too. What a deal!

It is no wonder that when a watch-group presented their world corruption ratings this week, Namibia ranks as a highly corrupt country (56th most corrupt out of 180 rated countries; New Zealand and Denmark were the least corrupt). So, Namibia is not the worst, but still corrupt.

It's hard to imagine the little corrupt things that plague society getting cleaned up if these large blatant acts of corruption are front page news. Just for the record, Polytechnic lecturers did not receive Toyota trucks. Yet.

Christmas in November

Windhoek closes down in December, as everyone heads to the coast. Schools are out in the first week of December. For this reason, Christmas plays have to be presented in November. The tinsel is already hanging over streets, in parks, and in supermarkets.

This evening, we attended the Future Professor Pre-Primary School's graduation and Christmas play. Kelly's class of 16 students had 12 graduate...they will attend Year One in primary school next year. It was a happy night for parents and students.

The cutest part of the evening was when Teacher Sussie had the graduates explain what they wanted to be when they grow up. There were three answers from the 12 students. "I want be a doctor so I can save people." "I want to be a policeman so I can reduce crime in Namibia." "I want to be a singer so I can make people happy." 8 doctors, 3 policeman, and 1 singer. Maybe that is about the right proportion for society, eh?! They had obviously practiced their answers, as they were very emphatic and crisp answers.

For the Christmas play, the students all had memorized a line to shout into the microphone to describe the first Christmas, and they sang 6-7 songs.

Here are some really bad mobile phone videos of the somewhat chaotic, but enthusiastic and heartfelt renditions of some favorites.

Merry Christmas to everyone from Namibia!!!

Signs around Windhoek

It's a slow week for news from Windhoek, so we're stretching a bit for a new blog posting. Just a couple of signs that we've spotted in town.

It has been interesting to view advertising in Namibia. I wouldn't say that advertising has reached its full potential here, and there are lots of quasi-lousy attempts. Witness, the Namibia Tourism Board's problems with getting their message across (previous blog here): "Tourism unravels you [sic] spiritual wellbeing!"

First, from a church in Eros part of town:

OK, but survival beats mortality as a way of living, right?! Maybe you have to be a wildlife biologist who studies survival to grin at this one...

And, from a business in the Northern Industrial Zone:

Just in case you wondered where the chickens and fish were meeting, er, meating. What does a "meated" chicken look like, anyway? Especially when it's been meated by a fish...?

Katutura tour: Uapii-style

Our year in Namibia is beginning to wind down, so one would think we've explored just about everything we could have in the past 11 months. Think again.

Katutura is a 'township' in Windhoek where the black population was moved in the early 1960's under the apartheid program. It is a Herero word, meaning "The place you don't want to live," which should give you an idea of the history of Windhoek.

Katutura is on the north end of Windhoek. We haven't ignored Katutura. We've driven through it, we've visited Uapii (the Polytechnic agriculture student, the "Cattleman from Kunene" who has served as our tour guide extraordinaire this year), Kelly has volunteered at a couple children's centers, Kelly's visited women's craft centers, Larkin has dropped Polytechnic students off near their homes after field trips. But, we haven't explored it. We hadn't had a chance to see how people live.

Today, we did.

Uapii had invited us on a Katutura tour. He heads back to the family farm in the northwest portion of Namibia tomorrow, and he wanted to give us a personal tour of his surroundings in Katutura. While he attends Polytechnic, he lives with his cousin who is an administrator at Bank Windhoek. They have a wonderfully nice home in Katutura.

We started the day by picking up Aaron Price, a UNL graduate who is finishing up a 6-month internship with World Wildlife Fund in Windhoek. Aaron has had the "Uapii Tour" a couple of times before, and highly recommended it.

We have placed a good-sized series of photos with lots more description and stories on the Picasa photo site, but here is a condensed version of the day, with some photos. Things you won't see here, but will see on the photo site: sheep heads, lion heads, cow heads, SWAPO Tristan, and Herero Kelly,

We visited several markets. It was a Sunday, and early afternoon, so many people were lined up to get their lunch from people selling cooked meat (mostly beef). This is one of my favorite salespersons, creating a SWAPO-colored item while she waits for customers.


Uapii also showed us a local park, where many students were studying for exams. This park is called the UN Plaza, and (as you might guess) was created with funds from the UN.


We also had a chance to explore some back-roads in the 'informal settlements' of Katutura. While most of the homes in Katutura are small, cement-block homes with running water and toilets, the informal settlements really take you into a different world. As Uapii said when we entered the area, "Now you are in Africa!" The settlements consist of plots of land with tin shacks. There are communal toilets and communal drinking water points.


Although it is easy for a tourist to look upon these conditions in wonder, one must remember that the majority of Namibians live in very similar conditions on the communal conservancies, where their homes (similar sized and shaped) are made of trees and mud/dung. That is, the house does not have to be big to be a home. One cannot help noticing that the area is very clean and mostly orderly. Most people who live in the informal settlements have arrived from the north, looking for work, and work as security guards, gardeners, or house cleaners for less than US$15/day (many far less than that...security guard minimum wage is US$0.50/hour).

We stopped and talked to one group, and as often happens, Kelly ended up holding a baby.


We ended the tour back at Uapii's cousin's home, where they had prepared a meal of lamb, boerwors (sausage), green salad, sweet pap (corn porridge), and ice cream. A wonderful way to end the day. We sat around the TV trying to understand a cricket match on their cable TV. You have to go to the Picasa photo site to see what they convinced Kelly to do.

It was a great day, and we're thankful for friends like Uapii who have shown us 'their' Namibia. Travel safely, cattleman!

Future Professor Debutante Ball

Kelly has been helping at a local preschool called Future Professor Pre-Primary. She is the "English" teacher, and helps with their ABC's and special topics each week.

To raise funds, the School held the annual Debutante Ball. We were invited to come join the festivities.

We drove into the parking lot of a local hall to the chorus of "Teacher Kelly, Teacher Kelly, Teacher Kelly." The evening was 'formal' and the students were dressed in wonderful satin gowns and little tuxedos or suits. It was really amazing, as the students come from families that span the spectrum of economic status. The School has a sliding scale for payment, so some students don't pay anything to come. There are children of gardeners and housekeepers, and there are children of more middle-class families.

"Image" is very important for Future Professor, as they compete with other Pre-Primary schools for students. We were asked to join a lady from Germany to help hand out prizes during the evening, as the School wanted to show the parents that they had connections with American and German teachers. Likewise, the school has recently seen a large increase in students, mostly (the teachers report) because of a gift from last year's Fulbright family, the Conroy's. They shipped many books and educational materials to the school. Those books and materials are now displayed prominently so that prospective parents can see them when they visit.

Back to the Ball, however! The students had practiced dances for the program, and a Master of Ceremonies had been hired (we think it was a local radio personality). A band consisting of a drummer, saxophone player, guitarist, bassist, and a keyboarder provided music which, oddly, had a Cajun sound to it.

It was a great evening. There are more photos on the Picasa photo site, but here are a couple of the students.




It is easy to be blinded by daily examples of inequities of social status in Namibia. But, a common bond that ignores these inequities is the desire of parents to provide the best they can for their children. Here, for one night, satin covered everyone, and the students could live a dream.

A Debutante Ball. Who would have guessed?

Do you have your riot insurance?

Namibian elections are now less than a month away, and there are billboards everywhere. Well, yes, there are political billboards, but there are also riot insurance billboards.

Even in Namibia, insurance companies are experts at finding the weak spot in your confidence.

First, just so parents and other loved ones don't get freaked out....there is very little chance of any riot happening over the Namibian elections. The newspapers do report a few incidents of voter intimidation by SWAPO each day. There seem to be more than enough reasons to vote against SWAPO, but the competition is not well-organized. It is fairly certain that the SWAPO party will win the election, and all will remain as normal. In fact, SWAPO's motto for the election seems to be: "if you vote for us, everything will remain the same." Not sure that is good for economics and long-term prosperity, but in terms of general peace in the country, it's good.

But, it is Afria, and African elections can create chaos. So, the insurance companies have a good product. Riot insurance.

In addition to the billboards around town, there has been an advertisement in the newspaper every day. Yesterday's ad is at right.

Kelly has been having fun watching the different wording on the signs: "What if 'free-and-fair' turns into a 'free-for-all'?"

Then, yesterday at my final exam for Ecology II, I noticed about 5% of the student body wearing red t-shirts with the following logo:

"Would you be insured if I destroyed your stuff?"

From an advertising campaign perspective, I'm sure it is a success. If you want cheap advertising in Namibia, make some t-shirts and give them away free to students. They will wear almost anything. Even a t-shirt that suggests they might loot your house.

Funny, I wouldn't have guessed that about my students in Ecology II. Maybe I should go buy some insurance.

The lunch lady and the Sewage Board

Several people, especially folks writing 'newsy' stories about our year here, have asked me what my daily routine is like. Perhaps they wonder if we start the day by walking a mile to get our water. Or, maybe they wonder if we have to collect firewood to cook our meal. Unfortunately, neither of these are correct. Our life in Namibia is very similar to our lives in Nebraska.

But, there are some little differences. Just little things, too mundane to report to these folks interviewing us. But, funny enough to report here. Here are two little things that I will miss about my daily life in Namibia:

1. The lunch lady.
Almost every day, I walk downstairs to a little kiosk outside the office building, and I buy my lunch. The same young lady waits on me every day. And, every day I order a hamburger, a coke, and a package of Simba chips (like Ruffles chips, except my favorite flavor is 'chutney' over here ). The amusing part of this daily adventure is that the price is NEVER the same. Usually, it is either 19, 20, 20.50, 22, or 24 Namibian dollars. She uses a calculator to add up the three items. Perhaps Simba chips fluctuate like gold on the world market? Perhaps she just makes up the prices? But, it is really fun to guess whether it's going to be high or low. And, if I only have a 20-dollar bill, it's a question of whether I really have enough to buy my lunch.

Today, I added a large bottled water and a BarOne candy bar to my standard order (exams are over, and I'm celebrating). I was ready to pay 35 dollars. It cost 23 dollars...JACKPOT!

I'll miss this daily 'lottery'.

2. My office phone and the Sewage Board
As a temporary lecturer, my office phone number is largely unknown to anyone at Polytechnic. So, no one calls me to talk to me. They just come to my office. If the phone rings, it is usually someone calling for the person who used to have my number, or just a wrong number.

In addition, Polytechnic has no voice mail. So, that is a bonus! I may have to adopt that policy when I go back to UNL! But, it doesn't matter at Polytechnic, as no one calls me, anyway.

Today was special. Within a 15-minute time period, I received three phone calls. They were looking for "Mr. Bayes", "Mr. Mosuto", and "Mrs. Chikango", and each had been given my number by the switch board. Nope, wrong number. Sorry. No, I don't know how to forward your call. Haven't been trained in call-forwarding.

A few minutes passed and then, I got The Call.

"Hello," the lady said. "I'm calling from the Sewage Board."

Well, that's a new one, I thought. Why is the Sewage Board calling me?

"I'm calling to check your number," she stated. "What is your name?"

Now, in Namibia, when someone asks your name, they are probably about ready to sell you something. Like the little macalani palm nuts that people carve your name on. Or, in this case, perhaps some sewage?! So, I was on-guard.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"I'm at the Sewage Board. I have to check your number."

Well, my office does have a funky smell sometimes, but I thought it was mostly because of the bats in the attic.

"Ma'am, what is the Sewage Board...?" We went back and forth like this for about 2-3 minutes. I was refusing to give her my name, and she was demanding to know my name.

Finally, she said, slowly, "Sir, I'm calling from the Polytechnic Switch Board." Ah, 'suh-witch board'...'switch board.'

And, just like that, I felt pretty stupid. I'll miss feeling stupid, and I'll miss adventures with my office phone.

Trick or treating with the US Embassy

We've enjoyed several functions sponsored by the US Embassy this year. Trick or treating house-to-house is a little hard in Windhoek, given the burglar bars and barking dogs in front of every house. So, the Embassy employees set up a Halloween function as a substitute.

We started at one home, where kids arrived in costume (and some adults). After the activities (see photos below), we left to drive to several other Embassy employees' houses. Kind of like a progressive dinner, but trick-or-treating. At a couple of the houses, the candy was handed out through the locked burglar bars, which was a little odd. But, everyone enjoyed the activity. The Embassy surely went to a lot of work to organize it.

Some photos below. More on the Picasa site.

Tristan spotted his costume in a local store.

Musical chairs to the tune of "Monster Mash".

Gwen and Annie (our fellow Fulbrighter family, the Bates') do some trick-or-treating at one of the Embassy homes. Burglar bars are still burglar bars, even if they've got cobwebs, eh?!

Happy birthday, Tristan!

Tristan turned 12 on Oct. 23, and his party was today (Halloween). Tristan asked to have a paintball party at a local paintball center.

The teams, suited up.

He invited several friends, and Dad even got in on the action to make the teams even.

It was our first time to play paintball, and I'm guessing it won't be the last. Quite a fun way to spend a couple hours. Everyone started with 100 balls, and the first game went fairly quickly as we learned you have to conserve ammo! We reloaded between games.

Tristan after the second game. An unconfirmed source states that it was his father who shot him in the face. This cannot be confirmed by official sources.

During breaks between games, we had a Halloween cake. More photos on the Picasa site. Kudos for Kelly for venturing into the arena with a mask on to get the action photos.

Trick or treat

There is a Halloween sub-culture in Namibia. It's a holiday that most people know about, and a few celebrate the "American holiday."

Kelly convinced me to come along with her to the Future Professor Pre-Primary (preschool) where she's been working. Teacher Suzy was beside herself when Kelly told her that I taught at Polytechnic. "Students," she whispered. "You are Future Professors, and here we have a real professor!" Hmmm...debatable.

Kelly worked with the kids on their ABC's, and then it was time to have some Halloween fun. Kelly had brought stick-on mustaches for everyone, as well as some masks. The kids just had a blast. They started calling each other "Grandma" and "Grandpa" because of the mustaches.






Happy Halloween from Namibia!

Day of reckoning

Today was 'semester marks' day at Polytechnic. It is the day that lecturers have to turn in semester marks for courses. It marks the end of the lecture portion of the semester. Yes, Spring Semester is over.

November is examination month, and a student has to have a 50% mark in the class thus far to sit for the final exam. So, today, students were running around to see which courses they were going to be able to write final exams.

It is not a common occurrence to fail the semester marks. One colleague had 10 students out of 26 fail his semester marks. Another had 6 students of 20 fail. One of my fellow lecturers told me that her first-year instructors 'curved' the semester marks so that 50% of the class members failed. Hmm...talk about artificial selection!

When a student takes the final exam, they have to achieve at least a 40% to pass the course. So, you can have a 90% on the semester marks, but if you don't get a 40% on the final exam, you don't pass. I think that is correct...it's very complicated, and I'm not sure I really do understand.

I'm not sure how to describe the mood of the students today. Failing a course is not the end of the world for them...they can take it again next year. So, there was this odd atmosphere of students running around to check lecturer's doors. No one acting really mad if they failed. Most probably expected it. It was kind of like learning you didn't win the lottery. Oh, well. Next time.

I'm happy to report that no one failed Ecology II. Yet. We'll see how the final exam goes.

Ring around the sun

On Wednesday, October 21, 2009, Windhoek witnessed an interesting solar event...a halo around the sun. Kelly was at her preschool, and the kids went outside to look at the "rainbow circle". Students at Polytechnic were pointing at the sky.

I've seen rings around the moon, but never a ring around the sun. The photo at right is from The Namibian, which confirmed that the halo is produced by ice crystals in high cirrus clouds, which refract sunlight to form a rainbow.

That was the scientific explanation.

However, the paper also reported that the Nama people of southern Namibia held a belief that such a ring around the sun predicted the death of an important leader. Ironically, Wednesday was the day before the funeral of Rev. Hendrick Witbooi. Rev. Witbooi (1934-2009) was an important figure in Namibia's independence movement, and shared his name with the Captain Hendrick Witbooi (1825-1905), who is featured on all Namibian paper currency.

Putting fire back on the veld

Namibia and Nebraska have many things in common, and one is that the use of fire on grasslands has been greatly diminished in the past 100 years. The effects of fire suppression in Nebraska result in cedar tree infestations. In Namibia, there is concern that bush encroachment (acacia trees) may be enhanced when fires do not happen, and seedlings survive in mass numbers.

My colleague at Polytechnic of Namibia, Dave Joubert, is studying the effect of fire on seedlings. He invited me to come out to his study plot this week to help with pre-fire preparations and the prescribed burn. Photos of both experiences are on the Picasa photo site.

It is always a thrill (in fearful and fun ways) to watch a patch of grass burn. And, it's interesting to think about landscape dynamics that have been changed as humans have learned to control fire. The veld (rangeland) is a product of the dynamics that shape it, and the removal of an important dynamic, like fire, should have consequences. The results of Dave's study should be of interest to farmers in Namibia who are looking for ways to increase grass on their farms (by decreasing bush).

Back in Nebraska, my graduate student, January Frost, and I have had a paper accepted for publication in the journal Restoration Ecology. It details the effects of cedar encroachment on bird communities along the Niobrara River in northern Nebraska. This type of research (effects of bush encroachment on bird communities) has yet to be done in Namibia. It might be a reason to return!

Even the French are having problems...where are the hunters?

In the midst of the current battles on health care in the US (yes, we have CNN and BBC), it is perhaps a little heart-warming to find out that there is something that even the French haven't figured out. No, not health insurance. Hunter recruitment.

Today, The Namibian newspaper reported that the average age of French hunters is 54 (click here for the same story at Yahoo News). The US is facing similar declines in hunters and fisherpeople, which threatens funding of conservation. Hunters and fisherfolks pay considerable amounts of money through their licenses and other purchases which not only support conservation, but directly provide the budgets for state wildlife agencies. Agencies are now engaged in hunter recruitment campaigns to avoid laying off staff and cutting programs. On the educational side, my UNL colleagues and I have started to participate in a national program designed to expose our wildlife students to hunting.

It is interesting to consider why The Namibian printed this article about French hunters. Approximately 3% of Namibia's GNP comes from foreign hunters (including many French). If you doubt this, take a look (below) at the number of horns being processed during one week by one taxidermy shop in Windhoek! If the number of hunters declines in the US and in Europe, Namibia's ecotourism industry (the hunting portion, at least) can plan on a similarly-paced decline.

Essentially, the message appears to be that if you are considering investing in hunting-based tourism, you might want to reconsider.

It will be interesting to come back to Namibia in 25 years to see how hunter-based tourism plays out. It is an industry (from the hunter's assistants to lodge workers to the taxidermy workers) that is supported by the current low wages paid to uneducated assistants. Liability insurance is also a minor component of business expenses, at the present time. The hunting industry in Namiba could face hard times if (1) the number of hunters shrinks (as projected), (2) worker wages increase as Namibia becomes more developed, and (3) if liability insurance becomes more expensive here.

Stay tuned.

Why you should always befriend agronomists...

In a previous posting, we showed a photo of one of the strangest animals we'd seen in Namibia--spotted at the Windhoek Show. The photo is re-posted here.

In the caption for the photo, we noted that "this breed of goats" was very unusual because of the thick tail, and that we were not sure of the breed's name.

It turns out to be a very interesting breed of goat. So interesting, in fact, that it is really a sheep.

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I learned this information from our good friend Uapii, tonight, who tactfully shared with me that I had misidentified it on the blog. He's a good man, that Uapii. I think it may have been difficult to tell a big guy who grew up on a farm that he can't tell a sheep from a goat.

The breed is a Damara Sheep, and the breed has been around southern African since 200-400 AD. It's also called a 'fat-tailed' sheep, which is pretty descriptive. It's an indigenous breed to southern Africa.

Thanks for the correction Uapii. I have to say that the conversation at our social gathering, following Uapii's correction was stimulating. Lots of educated people trying to decide how one tells a sheep from a goat. The best answer: sheep have curly horns...

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Uapii noted that every species of goat in Africa has a tail shorter than your hand. If it has a long tail, it's a sheep. So, now I know. This is why it is good to have agronomist friends, like Uapii.

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I still think it looks more like a dog with horns.

The Kamanjab Combined School Choir CD project

During our trip with Larkin's brother, Noel, we stayed at the Kamanjab Rest Camp. We had stayed there previously during our hunt with the Pegg's and Hygnstrom's from Nebraska, and enjoyed the managers of the camp.

We received a special treat on this trip, as the manager arranged for the local school choir to come sing at the camp. The camp was full with 2 buses of Europeans in tents. Petra, the manager, has developed a relationship with the choir to help gather funds for the school. They come sing, and Petra passes the hat. The money goes for copy machines, blackboards, paper, and other equipment--the kind of things that we take for granted in the US. Every school has these things, right? Well, not here.

The students in the choir are middle school and high school students. They are from farms and communal conservancies around Kamanjab, and they stay in the hostel (dorms) at the school. So, they don't see their families for most of the semester. They go through a lot just to get an education. Their parents sell firewood or goats or butter just to raise the money for their school uniforms--for many of their families, school uniform purchases are the only item for which they need money.

They are incredible musicians. We were fortunate to think ahead, and we brought the video camera to their performance to film a couple songs. They were so good, I just let the camera roll, and we recorded 25 songs (they don't want to stop singing...!) before I ran out of tape. It was a beautiful 1.5 hours under the stars, listening to their voices. The choir is conducted by 3-4 student conductors--as far as I could tell, there is no 'music teacher'--just the school's Headmaster heading up the activity. You can play the video below to hear one of their songs.

When we arrived home from our trip, it didn't take long to splice the video tape to digital form, and then transform the digital video clips to audio files. PhiHat Recording Studio* was born. We have created a CD with 25 tracks--some of the most beautiful music we've heard this year. All live. All from the heart. Drums. Quiet songs. Rhythmic songs. Stomping feet. Even some dogs barking in the background on one song...

In true African fashion, the CD is now on its way through a messenger service (Petra's husband, Petrus owns a service garage and has a shuttle to bring spare auto parts to Kamanjab from Windhoek) to Kamanjab, where I've asked the students to identify the songs by name. And, they'll come up with a name for their CD. We'll get some group photos, and make a great-looking CD to sell at the local lodges around Kamanjab. Voices raising money for their school.

Petra reported via email yesterday that when she told the Headmaster about the idea for the project, she collapsed and cried with joy. "You've made our dreams come true," Petra said. Well, it is a dream to be able to share an evening with such a talented group of students. It feels good to be involved in a project that can help others, even if just a little bit.

But, the fund raising doesn't have to stop at the lodges around Kamanjab! If you like the video clip below and want to experience about 50 minutes of wonderful Namibian music, you can reserve a copy. To find out more details, just send us an email (larkinpowell at gmail.com) and we'll get back to you with more details when it is ready to distribute. We're donating the CD materials. The money goes straight to the school. It will probably sell for about US$10, with additional for shipping by airmail to arrive in the US by Christmas!

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*PhiHat is after the Greek symbol 'phi', which is used to represent survival estimates in the wildlife literature. A little 'carrot' or 'hat' over the symbol specifies that it is an estimate from a sample.

Sacred fires

Sacred fires

Each morning, the eldest in the village adds wood to the sacred fire. A fire that never goes out. Their offering of scarce firewood makes the fire the center of society. A fire that connects the family to their ancestors. They gather around the fire to pray to their ancestors for guidance. They gather to grieve and to celebrate. The fire smolders through the night as the stars in the sky above mirror the collective fires across the landscape. Thousands of fires. Billions of stars.

Five hundred years ago a little bushman climbed a kopje and spent the evening scratching the outline of a giraffe on the sandstone. When he was finished, he laid down on the warm rock and watched stars fall in the sky. As the moon rose, his fire died and he fell asleep.

Two thousand years ago a group of bushmen gathered under a rock and began to paint. Maybe they were describing a dream or recording a great hunt. As they ate their evening meal, the sun set over the Brandberg. The smoke from their fire made black streaks on the rocks. The Milky Way swirled above them.

Four to five million years ago the climate changed in southern Africa. Forests disappeared, and grasslands expanded. Paleontologists tell us that this is the event that spawned the incredible diversity of antelope. Grassland expansion may have also responsible for the dramatic evolutionary event which resulted in several species of hominids, standing erect to efficiently carry food across the plains. We can imagine an evening somewhere in an African grassland when a group of Australopithecus afarensis sat watching a group of Australopithecus africanus pass over the crest of a nearby hill. Both groups spent the night under the stars. Both groups used the full moon to find food.

Today, we look at the stars around our campfire, and they seem to suck the breath from our hearts into the heavens to mix with the souls who have viewed the skies before us. Eyes glistening, reflecting some inner satisfaction.

Maybe satisfaction comes from feeling closer to the stars. From having stripped away all that doesn’t matter. Now there is less between you and the sky.

Maybe the feeling is realization of how small we are in the space of history. A realization that sacredness has a vast history on the African plains. We share whatever is sacred, whatever makes us whole, with these bushmen and Australopithecus.

Gravity works slowly on thoughts sent starwards. But gravity is gravity, and as you stare at the skies, the weight of previous celestial conversations pulls images into your memory.

Eons of star gazers. Souls bare. All under a well-watched sky. A sky full of sacred fires.

Good night.

--L. Powell
After many conversations with many people about the stars and sacred fires in Namibia

O Brother, Where Art Thou?

We've enjoyed spending the past couple weeks with Larkin's brother, Noel. He arrived from Boston, MA in time to take advantage of Tristan's October Break from school, and Larkin managed to get a break from teaching. So, we took off to Etosha, northwest Namibia (Kamanjab and Brandberg), and the coast. It was a great time.

Noel seemed to bring us luck at every turn. More lions than we have ever seen in Etosha. Singers at several of our evening meals. Pretty good success catching fish on the coast.

We've got the story of the trip posted in photo-form with captions on the Picasa site...feel free to link over and enjoy!

We ended this trip with the sober realization that Noel was the last of the three groups of family/friends to visit us in Namibia. It is always nice to see familiar faces, and we enjoyed sharing experiences with everyone. But, the year is winding down. Next year's Fulbrighters are starting to contact us with questions about their year in Namibia. Time to pack our bags!

Elections 2009

Namibia holds elections every 5 years. In early November, the country will vote for the president and other positions. The current president is running on the SWAPO ticket for re-election, and odds favor his second term.
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The former President and Founder of the Nation, Sam Nujoma, did not do SWAPO any favors this week, in terms of public relations, when he gave a wandering speech that called on Namibians to prepare to go to war (Mr. Nujoma led the fight for Independence, so may be getting a bit bored with peace) to stop the British and American influence that seems to be directed at Zimbabwe (Mugabe, who is ruining that country, is a friend of Namibia and vice-versa). Mr. Nujoma suggested that Namibians be prepared to smack British and American citizens on the head with hammers (literally what he said...) if they stood in the way of Namibians getting what they need.

So, we've been very accommodating at traffic lights and grocery store queues this week...


An interesting facet of elections in Namibia--residents have to register to vote each and every time there is an election. So, the country is no in the middle of a massive 'Get Out and Register' campaign. We chuckled when we received the mass-marketing cell phone text messages reminding us to go register. It was especially funny when Tristan received his message. For a moment, he thought it actually might be possible to vote--pretty cool!


The Registration process involves (as any process in southern African should) 5 tables, and a long queue. In case you want to go Register, here's a poster showing the process.

Some Namibian music

When we last frequented our favorite eating establishment in Windhoek, Joe's Beerhouse, a musical group also happened by. We've seen them a few other places in town, and recently bought a CD of their music. Here's some short video clips, with apologies for the people walking past the mobile phone 'camera'. It was a buffet, and it was a good one--so lots of traffic to and fro during the free concert.