Otjiwarongo
Sept 7th-9th, 2018
Otjiwarongo is a modern day town that pops up out of nowhere. It’s like a strip mall in the desert. You drive for miles on a narrow two-way highway that passes through a sea of nothingness and then all of a sudden you hit a round-a-bout that acts as the gate to this well planned out town.
On the surface, it looks like a desert oasis. But there is depth to it. There is movement. There is a process that is unfolding — the process of integration.
Integration. Webster’s dictionary defines it as: “ the act or process or an instance of integrating: such as: incorporation as equals into society or an organization of individuals of different groups (such as races) b: coordination of mental processes into a normal effective personality or with the environment.”
Otjiwarongo embodies the definition of integration described above.
In the three days we spent here, I noticed numerous integration processes happening. The integration of environmental protectionism and awareness into farming; where new ways of handling wildlife deemed threatening to livestock are being taught to local farm owners. The integration of two cultures; the culture and way of living of people whose heritage descends from African tribes and the culture and way of living of people who descend from European settlers — two groups who were legally kept separate under apartheid up until the 1990s, a not too distant past. The integration of languages — the tongue of local African tribes mixed with Afrikaans, mixed with German, mixed with English. The integration of tourism into the community; AirBnBs are popping up around town to accommodate the steady stream of tourists flowing in, such as ourselves.
It was fascinating to observe as an outsider. If we happen to return in 10 years, it will be interesting to see what these processes of integration have done to transform this little town that is swiftly growing into a city.
3 Highlights:
- Visiting the Cheetah Conservation Fund. This visit was both fun and educational. The work they are doing at this conservation center is impactful. In addition to providing visitors with up-close cheetah experiences — like witnessing feeding time and safaris around the reserve to observe the majestic animals in their natural habitat — the fund is also working to educate local farmers on ways to deal with the endangered predators by providing alternative solutions to the common practice of hunting a cheetah after it has attacked and killed a farmer’s livestock. This is being done by the breeding and distribution of Anatolian shepherd guard dogs that protect the herd and warn the farmer of impending danger so that they can act before it is too late. The center was just another example of an integration process that is unfolding in Otijiwarongo.
- Enjoying a traditional braai dinner and delicious wine with Marianne and Titus — our welcoming and warm AirBnB hosts. This is what AirBnB is all about. We were lucky to find amazing hosts during our stay in Otjiwarongo. One night, as I parked myself on their lovely patio, trying to get good internet reception, Titus asked if I wanted a glass of red wine. I am never one to pass on a glass of red wine so I happily accepted. He poured me a glass with a smile and joined me at the table. That one glass of red wine turned into 3 bottles and a full BBQ (or as Namibians refer to it — a braai). What a treat it was. They served us a deliciously charred hunk of pork, grilled cheese sandwiches with onions and tomatoes, and perfectly seasoned chargrilled potatoes wedges. The best part of the meal was the conversation. We covered everything from the changing economy in their little town to the political history of Namibia and the effects that apartheid has had on it. I learned that Namibia was part of South Africa up until 1990, which is why the majority of people with European decent speak Afrikaans — something that surprised me when we first got to Namibia.
- Learning about the Himba culture and the Namibian Bush War from Titus. The Bush War was a war between the South African Army and the Southwest Africa’s People Organization in northern Namibia that lasted 21 years. During the war, all male Namibian’s — regardless of race — were required to serve in the army. As a young adult during this time, Titus (who is white) was required to serve. He served alongside men from the Himba tribe. This is where he learned their language and their way of life. One story of his time served really stuck with me. It was about two seemingly unrelated subjects — hairstyles and stoicism. Hairstyle plays a significant role among the Himba people. It signifies age and social status within their community. Hairstyles shift as both girls and boys age and enter into different phases of their lives such as puberty, marriage, and parenthood. From the time they are born, a boy’s hair is shaped into one braided plait extending to the rear of their head. The hair grows as they age and they shape it using goat fur, ground ochre, and butter. In a sense, the growing braid becomes an appendage; it becomes a significant and vital part of them, like a limb or an internal organ. This is how important it is to them. Another aspect of Himbu culture is stoicism amongst the males. From an early age, they are taught to not show fear or emotion. These two features of the culture — hairstyle and stoicism — came to life in one of the stories Titus told us over wine and braai. While he was serving in the Bush War, he had the unfortunate experience of witnessing a grenade tear off the hand of Himba man he was serving with. Being nearby when the incident occurred, Titus rushed over to attend to the man’s injury. The man showed no pain as he clutched his impacted arm, with blood pouring out and only a mangled mound of flesh remaining, He did not cry out, did not flinch. This was drastically opposite from what Titus witnessed from the same man only weeks earlier, under totally different circumstances — when the man was receiving his required haircut upon entering the army. During the haircut, the man cried out in pain and sorrow for the loss of a symbolic feature. His hair. The braided plait he had been growing since birth that signified his place in his tribe was being cut off. This man was not alone in his grief for his hair plait. According to Titus, all the Himba men had the same reaction when undergoing the haircuts. During his entire time serving with them, getting a haircut was the only time Titus saw emotion come from the Himba men.
