Crazy for Southern Africa

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My first children's book, Once Upon West Africa, was published about a week or so ago.  It's a collection of fifty Liberian folk tales.  So, it's official.  I'm a published author and illustrator.  I've even signed a few copies of my book.

I'm not one to sit around on my laurels and count the number of books that have been sold. (So far, only two hands are needed, and not all fingers required.)  Instead, I've decided it is time to illustrate the stories for my next collection of tales, Once Upon Southern Africa.  I've been sitting on that collection of tales almost twenty years.  It's time I get those illustrations drawn, wouldn't you agree?

Africa holds a special place in my heart.  I lived there for six years and some of my best (and/or most horrifying) travel tales took place there.  I remembered them as I wrote the dedication to this book of tales from countries around the tip of Africa. 

I thought it was a good time to share one of my best stories.

One of the reasons I accepted my teaching job in Zambia was because of the 1980s movie, "The God's Must Be Crazy".  It's really not all that great of a movie.  It's humorous and entertaining in its own unique way, but probably not a good reason to move to that part of the world.  I did it anyway.

I really didn't know it at the time, but the movie was filmed in South Africa.  I thought it had to be filmed in Namibia since there is a part of the country called Bushmanland.  Isn't that where everyone would go if they wanted to find the Bushmen (San people)?  It's what I did.  When my first vacation rolled around, Namibia was my destination.  I mean, after all, isn't that where everyone would go?

There was a slight problem when I walked into a travel agency and said I wanted to go to Bushmanland.  They'd never sent anyone to that part of Namibia before.  There was no guarantee that I'd see what I was looking for.  You see, the Bushmen no longer live as they once did or dress in what they once wore.  Ignorance was bliss as far as I was concerned.  I was still going to see what I could discover among the San people.

I rented a four-wheel-drive vehicle with Chris, my Namibian driver and guide.  It didn't take Chris long to know what could please me.  I was in search of unique portraits to photograph and Namibian folk tales.  He did his best to help me, and I was so pleased.

Namibia has a lot of wide open spaces with a large dose of barren looking landscape.  We were in the absolute middle of nowhere, about 100 kilometers from Tsumkwe, in the Kalahari Basin (which surrounds the desert), when Chris spotted a Herrero woman hitchhiking.  It was a little unusual to see anyone this far out in the middle of nowhere.  My guide said, "Get your camera out.  She’ll let you take her picture in exchange for a ride."  I told you, he knew how to take care of me.  Herrero women wore these voluminous dresses that Victorian missionary women used to wear in the early 1900s.  But, their style had a unique African twist to it.  Their hats looked very similar to cattle horns.  Since cattle were a sign of wealth, it kind of gives you an idea where women ranked in Herrero culture.
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Of course, Chris was right about this woman.  I got my photo and it was a stroke of luck to pick up this hitchhiker.  She said she would take us to meet some San whom she knew held to their traditions.  Plans were all set – in Herero – but Chris promised a great day.  We really hadn’t planned to go to Tsumkwe, but under the circumstances, flexibility sounded like a great idea. 
 
I had been so impressed with all the towns we passed through as we crossed Namibia.  They were so modern and clean.  And then, we entered Tsumkwe.  It looked big on the map but it was barely an intersection.  There was a shop or two, a disco, a gas station, a clinic, police headquarters and (shockingly) a lodge.  We went to the lodge and - even more amazingly - they were filled up.  They wouldn’t even let us pitch a tent!
 
More Herero conversation.
 
The hitchhiker said we could stay at her place.  It was a cluster of about a dozen thatched huts with women all wearing those wonderful, traditional Herero dresses.  It couldn’t have been a more perfect location!  However, neither Chris nor the hitchhiker really thought I would want to stay there.  He dropped the woman off and started to leave.  I quickly let him know - in no uncertain terms - that this was exactly where I wanted to spend the night.  He would never find a better spot.
 
The Herero women laughed when they learned I really wanted to stay with them, and we were shown a place where we could set up our camp.  Our evening was spent in traditional African fashion, under the stars and around the fire.  It was truly one of the most magical nights I ever had in Africa.  After a meal shared with our new neighbors, and a great deal of discussion in Herero, the women shared a few Namibian folk tales.

Eventually, I was asked to share a story, and I chose "Spider and the Honey Tree"'  It's my best African story to share aloud.  When I talk about delicious mangoes, they are deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelicious.  And the bananas aren't sweet.  They are the sahweeeeeeeeeeetest bananas.  I would never recognize any word in Herrero.  It has a lot of mysterious clicking sounds.  But, Chris matched me with every expression and everyone loved the story.
 
The following day, Chris took me to this little man in Tsumkwe whom we’d seen earlier.  He was friendly, warm and willing to pose for me.   I thought he looked very similar to the man in the movie "The Gods Must Be Crazy".  But, then again, most of the San people had a similar look to me.  But, as Chris translated, I realized he really was Glao Goma, otherwise known as N!xau, the actual star of the movie that inspired the whole trip.

And, he was delightful!

Glao talked of how he was selected and his travels.  Originally there was a San from Botswana chosen for the part.  But, after two days of filming, he disappeared back to the bush.  So, a search was made in Tsumkwe.  I read that when he was discovered, Glao had only seen three white people in his whole life.  Well, life changed for him.  First, he was flown to South Africa (where he couldn’t escape) for filming, and the rest was history.  The producers built Glao a house, a humble little home but certainly one of the nicest in Tsumkwe, and took him on a world premiere tour which included Hong Kong, Beijing and Japan. 
 
He was such a positive, charming man.  When he brought out a few trinkets for sale, I knew I had to buy something from him.  I selected a necklace made from ostrich eggshells.
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The movie credits him as N!xau, but for my autograph, he wrote Glao Goma.
Sadly, my timing was pretty amazing for this trip.  Glao died three years after my experience.  In 2003, I received an email from someone who had seen my write-up about the experience.  I was informed that Glao went out into the bush to collect firewood and never returned home.  Reportedly, he is survived by three wives and twelve children.

On our way northeast, my guide took me to see two hundred thousand seals, real lions on safari, pre-historic cave paintings and a cheetah farm.  But, at one point in our journey, Chris seriously tried to talk me out of going all the way north into Bushmanland.  It was such a long journey and he really didn't think we'd have any kind of success.  I'm so pleased to say this time that I was right, even if he did think I was crazy.
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