Until this past week, I had not spent much time in the southern part of Namibia. Let me rephrase. Apart from driving thru it in the middle of the night on an insane non-stop drive from Maun to Cape Town, I have not spent ANY time in southern Namibia. So being on the road during the daytime was refreshing if for no other reason than the fact that I could see more than the tar ahead and the swishing of dry grass to either side.
Mariental and Keetmanshoop both still feel like Afrikaner havens from the rest of the world. Wandering around looking for a place to buy bread, I felt lost in a rural African version of an old Western just before showdown – everyone was clearing off the streets (slowly), or sitting around waiting for something to happen (slowly), or turning their heads to stare when I walked by (slowly). Mariental especially is bleached, pale under even the somewhat gentler winter sun, and dry, dusty-dry like dirt that has never known water. Keetmans features several rock-hewn churches with corrugated tin spires, from either German colonial days or possibly even built stone-by-stone by Afrikaners migrating north from the Cape years before. But both are steeped in a feeling of thick isolation that buffers a sense of slipping through a crack in the face of time.
What was I doing there? This would be the logical question. My sister has started a new job – overseeing a project of the Namibian National Farmers Union to reduce poverty in the south through teaching people how to grow hoodia. Hoodia is a succulent – it looks like a cactified octopus – that when eaten, suppresses the appetite. The Nama, one of the ethnic groups here that historically has lived in the desert – apparently discovered that they could eat some of the plant and go days without feeling hungry. This has recently been turned into a desire to create a market for the next herbal weight loss craze. The project’s ‘beneficiaries’ each receive 15 plants that are already 2-3 years old. They will put them in sand and leave them for about a year before harvesting and drying them.
There are a lot of things about this project, already, that feel like so many others I have seen before. Our interactions with one of the local staff members found him more interested in getting me to go out drinking with him than in seeing the plant nurseries. One of the local governors is trying to hijack the ‘beneficiary selection process’ from the traditional authorities so that he can place the plants with people he wants to benefit. And there is only about a year to find and develop a market so that the growers can continue to plant seedlings after harvest next year and sell their products. We also found out that you can’t even harvest the plant properly without a stainless steel blade that costs a small fortune. This, to me would seem to be a pretty big sticking point – you can plant it, but you can’t take it out of the ground without a special piece of equipment that you will never own? Hmmm…
Anyway, I’m headed out to the bush tonight – up to Katima, where I have been working for the past six years or so now. I’ll be there a week or so before heading back to Botswana…ah, Maun, to days at the research centre and nights at Audi or the Sports Bar…
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