Namibia, Howard Wayne

WINDHOEK, Namibia—Red sand dunes, scorched deserts, searing heat and wind-eroded mountains – maybe that’s what a writer had in mind when calling Namibia the land God made in anger. Mary and I, along with two of her friends from Peace Corps days, Gene Tackett and Wendy Wayne[1] (no relation to the author), visited this country that is north and west of South Africa and is probably best known to Americans as the place Brad and Angelina had their baby. It was early in September – a good time to be there ahead of the extreme temperatures of summer.

Namibia was an attempted “gotcha” question Jerry Brown threw at Pete Wilson during their senatorial debate in 1982, Brown thinking Wilson would not know what a Namibia was. Wilson had been briefed on foreign policy by former Secretary of State Henry Kissinger and gave a passable answer that only failed the test of time.

Namibia was one of the last remaining crumbs in the Scramble for Africa when the then recently united country of Germany, looking for an empire, seized it in the late nineteenth century. The Germans brutally suppressed a native insurrection in the course of a four year war (1904-1908), only to lose the country in the middle of the next decade when South African troops invaded during World War I. The League of Nations awarded Namibia, then known as Southwest Africa, to South Africa under a mandate, and South Africa repeatedly tried to annex it as a fifth province.

UN resolutions that demanded independence for Namibia were resisted by South Africa. From the mid-1970s onward South Africa attempted to maintain its hold on Namibia by invading Angola, which had been granted independence from Portugal and was used as a base by the Marxist-oriented liberation movement, the South West Africa People’s Organization (SWAPO). Cuban and South African military forces fought furious battles in Angola until a UN brokered agreement led to the departure of Cuban forces and a free election in Namibia, which was won by SWAPO.

SWAPO still holds power in Namibia, which is why one goes to Robert Mugabe Avenue when visiting the Old Fort (Alte Feste) in the capital of Windhoek, with easy access from Independence Avenue via Fidel Castro Street.[2] The SWAPO leader of the country has threatened nuclear war against Britain should it attempt to re-colonize Zimbabwe by ousting Mugabe; Namibia does have significant uranium resources to go with it 1.8 million mostly impoverished people.

We boarded an Air Namibia flight in Johannesburg and less than two hours later landed in Windhoek International Airport on an airfield surrounded by desert; it had the feel of landing in Casablanca. We rented a car but our effort to get insurance against sandblast damage or a shattered windshield was unavailing. The rental clerk told us those events are too common in Namibia to insure against.

The international airport is about 40 kilometers outside of the city and we had to go a bit further into the south end of town to get to our very fine hotel. Tourism is big in Namibia and their dollar is pegged to the South African Rand. Both currencies are legal tender in the country and the Rand circulates freely. After checking in and getting oriented, we drove back into Windhoek.

I wanted to visit the Old Fort and Museum, which was constructed during the period of German control. Windhoek was the capital then, too, because of its access to water, its relatively mild climate and its central location in the country. Climbing the stairs to the fort and turning left at the entrance takes one to displays on the political history of the country. It starts with the construction of the fort, passes onto the insurrection, and then moves to the South African invasion of the country. Going further on, one sees exhibits from SWAPO’s guerrilla war against South Africa, and further yet is an extensive display on the UN supervised election. Although many parties contested for power, the election came down to a battle between SWAPO and the western supported (and largely South African financed) Democratic Turnhalle Alliance (DTA). SWAPO had its base in the Ovumbo people, who comprise nearly 50% of the population. While DTA and SWAPO battled it out to a near tie in the rest of the country, a better than 20 to 1 showing in the Ovumbo-dominated area gave SWAPO control of the country.

Still further into the museum are exhibits of pioneer-era life in Namibia. Then, after crossing the courtyard of the fort and going past a large bell cast in Leipzig in 1897, one gains a panoramic view of Windhoek (the fort commanded the high ground). From that point, going into the other side of the museum, you can see a display on rock paintings in the pre-history of the country. One exhibit shows “The White Lady,” an early archeological find that looks Mediterranean – even reminiscent of ancient Greek vases. Namibia has numerous concentrations of rock painting in areas reachable only by small planes and four wheel drive vehicles.

We had dinner in a German restaurant. There is still a strong German influence in the country and most whites speak either German or Afrikaans as a first language. English, however, is the official language and the signs on the main streets are almost entirely in English.

The next day we drove the car to the train depot and loaded it onto a rail car. We were taking the Desert Express sleeper to the coast. First, though, we checked out the railroad museum adjacent to the terminal, which was run by a fourth-generation German named Conrad. He explained how the railroad was originally built on narrow gauge tracks (60 centimeters rail base) but later construction was on a 1.07 meters rail bed. Conrad had taught history and Gene asked about the Caprivi Strip, that odd-shape portion of Namibia that extends along the northern border of Botswana. Conrad said it had been part of a European land swap in which Germany gave up Zanzibar in exchange for an island in the Baltic Sea and the strip, in order to give Germany access to its possessions in east Africa. Caprivi was one of Bismarck’s successors.

The train left the station at 1 p.m. and a half hour later we were all summoned to the lounge area for an official greeting and orientation. One of our fellow passengers was a Belgian diplomat living and working in Cape Town, but who had responsibility for her country’s dealings with Namibia. Ida had been with the diplomatic service since 1969 and was planning to retire to her Cape Town home.

We sat in the lounge enjoying South African wine. The train slowed as it passed through a game park. From the train we could see giraffes and wildebeests. It was just a preview of what would happen later. At 4:30 the train stopped and we piled into the back of a truck for a game drive. After picking up passengers who flew in directly from South Africa, we drove to a game lodge that has a commanding view of the area. Below us were huge rhinos and our truck proceeded to where we could see them close up. Warthogs were hanging out with the rhinos, and nearby were some kudus (imagine a large antelope with mouse ears) and a herd of springboks.

When we got back to the train we found that our compartments had been made into beds. We moved to the dining car and celebrated Mary’s and Gene’s birthdays (one day, although several years, apart) with a fine bottle of wine and a first class dinner served in the manner of the great days of railroads. We later retreated to our compartments to sleep to the gentle rocking of the train. At about 11 the train pulled onto a sidetrack to give the passengers a few hours of quiet rest. I could see guards posted outside the train; the collection of tourists in the sleepers would have been a fat and easy target for robbery.

The next morning the train stopped in front of a line of the fabled red sand dunes of Namibia. The red color comes from the oxidation of iron. Although many of the sand dunes are restricted from access, we were free to climb the dunes near the train and, if the spirit was willing, slide down. Climbing the dunes is no easy matters as the sand gives way beneath one’s feet. Back at the train there was a lot of shaking of sand out of shoes.

The terminus of the rail trip was the old German town of Swakopmund, where we drove the rental car off the train and to our hotel. A barrier to finding the hotel was the commercial guide had it located on a street that had been re-named, without any indication of the new name. The re-naming of streets, cities, and even provinces is a common practice in newly independent Africa.

Swakopmund is a resort town that owes its creation to Walvis Bay, located some 30 kilometers to the south. In the mid-nineteenth century Britain occupied Walvis Bay, which is the finest harbor on the southwest coast of Africa, and annexed it to its Cape Colony. Years later, when the Germans occupied the country, Britain still held Walvis Bay and the Germans needed coastal access. Swakopmund, complete with artificial breakwater and jetty, was the German port for the colony, constructed around 1892.[3]

Swakopmund is easy to walk around. We found a café frequent by young backpackers – Namibia seemingly being a vacation sight for adventurous young people much as baby boomers backpacked around Europe in the 1960s. Tourism in Namibia is largely German, but with Swiss, Italians and Austrians coming in mainly in July and August (we were the only Americans on the train). Adjacent to the café was the Cape to Cairo restaurant, which serves excellent foods from all over the continent. We had an early reservation for dinner; it was Saturday night and by the time we left the restaurant was jammed.

The next day was heavily overcast and our guide explained it was due to the Benguella current from the Antarctic meeting the warmer Atlantic current. It is overcast about 60% of the mornings. On the way south to Walvis Bay we passed a development called Long Beach. That was where Brad and Angelina lived and, to keep the press away, took over a complex called Burning Shore. The baby was born in a Swakopmund hospital.

As we approached Walvis Bay we saw a black township on one side of the road and a “coloured” township on the other. Our guide said that apartheid was more lightly applied in Namibia than in South Africa.

As we got into town I saw burglar bars on the window. The guide said unemployment is about 40% in the country and the crime problem is increasing, although it is not as bad as in South Africa. Crime creates a cottage industry of protection from crime, which itself is a drain on the economy.

In the harbor area we saw mounds of sea salt that had been harvested from the Atlantic. The salt is packed in 20 kilogram bags and exported to Central Africa via the Caprivi highway, and to South Africa in vessels that bring coal to Namibia. Used Japanese vehicles are imported into Namibia, as cars are very expensive in the country. We saw fishing vessels being repaired in the extensive dry docks at the harbor.

There is a protected ecological portion along the bay. We saw a Spoonbill Plover, many tiny sandpipers, and flamingos that had not yet turned pink – that color is the result of the flamingos eating shrimp we were told. We were told there had been a spate of Sea Lion deaths in the area and drove up to a dead Sea Lion lying on the beach. As our vehicle got closer the “dead” Sea Lion got up and walked away! The Pelican Bay Hotel in Walvis Bay fronts on the harbor and next to it, built on stilts, is the Raft Restaurant.

On returning to Swakopmund we had lunch at the Lighthouse, a restaurant with an ocean view and a large seafood menu. Unfortunately both it and an adjacent municipal pool are doomed to be razed for luxury condominiums. Across the way from the restaurant is the Swakopmund Museum, a low key private museum which emphasizes the German contribution to the community. It also has an added room on the peoples of Namibia – there are many tribes and languages in the country, which contribute to the problem of building a unified nation. A leader of a breakaway tribal group in the Caprivi Strip declared from exile that that government will never turn his people into Namibians.

The next day I visited what I found to be the best bookstore in the town, the Swakamunder Buchhandlung on Sam Nujoma Street. Sam Nujoma was the first president of Namibia[4] and his name is plastered on a main street in every city we visited.[5] The owner of the business is named Anton. I was told that he is a former minister in the SWAPO government, but when I visited a clerk said he was overseas.

It was time to head back. We drove the Trans-Kalahari Highway, a major road in the country, eastbound from Swakopmund to Okahandja, and then south to Windhoek. For most of the distance it is a two lane road with no shoulder, so passing the slow trucks – which have no room to pull over – is a challenge. We stopped at Karibib to fill up, only to be told they were out of petrol but would have some on Thursday (it was Monday). We settled for using the bathroom and buying some supplies. It’s a good idea to travel in Namibia with a full tank of gas.

It’s on this highway one gets a feeling for how barren Namibia is. It’s hot, even in late winter. Rugged mountains rise from both sides of the highway, eroded by wind and water into weird shapes. There are few towns and, between them, very few people. Agriculture and life are tough here. Rain is minimal the country relies to a great extent on groundwater.

Once back at the airport it was time to turn in the rental car and say good bye to Gene and Wendy. They were flying on to Cape Town and we were returning to Pretoria. It’s a great experience to take a vacation to a distant place with good friends.

[1] Wendy was Mary’s roommate. She brought Wendy do a party where she met Gene. They’ve been married for nearly 30 years and have become good friends of both of us.

[2] Maputo, the capital of the former Portuguese colony of Mozambique, features major streets named after Vladimir Lenin, Karl Marx, Mao Tse Tung, the late Ghanian leader Kwame Nkrumah, and another street named Avenue “da Guerra Popular,” i.e. a street named after a war.

[3] When independence for Namibia was looming, South Africa asserted the unique history of Walvis Bay and treated it as an enclave of South Africa apart from Namibia. Immigration controls were imposed on those leaving Swakopmund for the Walvis Bay territory, which began just outside of Swakopmund. Walvis Bay was only handed over to Namibia in 1994, four years after independence.

[4] Nujoma still wields a great deal of power in Namibia as the current leader is one of his protégés. Recently Nujoma promised to build a school in a town in southern Angola in gratitude for the areas help in the liberation movement. Despite its desperate financial condition, the Namibian government funded the project, leading to a scandal and possibly a parliamentary inquiry.

[5] A few of the businesses on this Sam Nujoma Street kept the previous name of the street on their buildings – Kaiser Wilhelm Strasse.