Life in Nam: Week 5

Namibia: 3. Stupid Americans: zero.

(This score is beginning to look a lot like a South Africa vs. Namibia rugby game. Someone is losing pretty significantly because they are quite the amateur and in over their head.)

So let’s just say two stupid Americans - names have been changed to protect the innocent - decided to drive a Mazda 6 (affectionately known as “White Lightning II”) from Windhoek to the Soussesvlei dunes – about 400km of gravel roads. While there may not be the traffic as in Washington, DC, forces of nature – rain, rocks - become real obstacles here. Due to the inordinate amount of rain this year (by Namibian standards) parts of the road were flooded and thus impassable in a Mazda 6. So, we took the prudent approach and turned around, only to immediately hit a rock that cracked our engine, leaked oil, and led to the engine seizing.

Did I mention we were in the middle of the desert with no cell phone coverage?

…Fortunately, we were only 1km from the home of a lovely self-described “farmer woman” named Caroline. We sheepishly (no pun intended) explained to her our predicament and asked to use her phone to call a tow truck. The sun was setting, and the tow driver explained he would arrive the next morning. Caroline graciously offered a place for us to stay, and the three of us chatted and shared dinner over a bottle of South African wine.

It was an unintended, but fascinating encounter. The farm has been in her family for years. Her husband owns the neighboring farm, second marriage for both, grown children living around the globe, and a family that has hiked Kilimanjaro and sailed hobie cats together. She explained to us how nice it is to live such an isolated existence (the stargazing from her back porch was incredible). She travels to Windhoek once a month for supplies for the farm. Her stories illuminated a life of growing up under apartheid and farming in a rugged, challenging environment.

Needless to say, we were not the first silly travelers with car trouble to knock on her door. Nor the first Americans. She was very eager to share her opinions of American politics, policies, and presidents. I wish I could say that my inept driving skills and annoying American habits are making amends for the Bush presidency.

Namibia is teaching me: don’t try to fight it. Just let it go. As the inscription on the inside of the Windhoek Lager bottle cap says: “Keep it real.” Or, just get a huge 4WD “bakkie” and your problems should be solved.