Saturday, 20 September 2014

Namibia; home where the rooster crows

Hi Ya’ll,


I have been rather silent of late. It is partly because of laziness and because I moved back to #Namibia. I move towards the middle of last month and needed some time adjust.

Being home is awesome, I must say that my time here started on a high note and that could be a contributing factor on why I think that being home rocks. Firstly seeing my Family is the most amazing feeling that I cannot put in words. It is a feeling of homeliness if that is even a word. Don’t get me wrong I enjoyed my time in Germany and Europe but for some reason I always felt like there was something missing. I guess I now know what it is.

My first week I spent in the capital #Windhoek, were I joined the last minute preparations for a cousins wedding. Now this was the start of my party time here. It was filled with family and friends alike. I loved being part of this wedding because I got to see some family members I have not seen in almost 7 years. Additionally it was a good way to ease into the Namibian lifestyle again. Most importantly my I gained another cousin… yay J

The following week I had to rush to the village as there was another party my parents organized in celebration of my dads retirement. That was the start of the hectic travelling and all the work that comes with organizing a party without the help of an events company.

On the very day I arrived I have to get a 4x4 and drive to the farm to go collect bull to be slaughtered, there is no party in Namibia without an abundance of meat. I arrived on the farm at about 02:00 am because I was partially lost. It has been a while since I had gone there. Additionally the new Okongo to Rundu road makes travelling easier whereas I have been used to driving via Cassablanca and through the dusty road of Luwaya. Okay these are all excuses for being lost, if my friend JD reads this post he will laugh as he says I get lost easily, well I do but just is towns such as Mannheim that have mathematical puzzles for streets. The streets of Mannheim are like Cell References in Microsoft Excel!

Anyway I had to pick up the bull in the morning and drove back to the village the very same day. Upon arrival I was alone and had to figure out a way to keep the bull secured (Because, if you let it go it will run away and you would have to go look for it; more unnecessary work). If it were up to me I would’ve dropped it off at an abitour and picked but the packed meat, but noo we had to kill it ourselves at home. Well don’t get me wrong I have no quelms about slaughtering animals for consumption, I just think some of the leg work could be avoided by utilizing the facilities that already exist.
In a nutshell though Namibia has made major strides towards development, we still stick to many of our roots especially when it comes to how we slaughter cattle. On this alone there is a whole blog series I could write about.
As the days proceeded and the preparations drew to a close, most the family member that were to attended showed up. Man did I miss them, this is what home is all about, laughter filled the air especially during the night when everybody was hurdled around the fire eating grilled meat and telling stories of how the past few years have been since we last spoke.

It somehow still amazes me how close I still felt to most of my family members. I mean for some it felt like I haven’t seen them for about 5 – 10 years yet after speaking to them for 30 minutes if feels as though we only last met a day ago. I missed this feeling when I was in Germany. I guess that is why we have the saying “Keimbo okeimbo” which translates to “home is home”.

Anyway as all the people left the house started to feel more empty and only my parents and the residents of dads home were l left (In my culture the house belongs to the man not to both husband and wife). Routine kicked in, we would all be awake before the rooster crows, as traditionally young people are to be out of their bedrooms before the sun rises. I would go check if all the cows slept in the kraal the night before and walk around the fence to see what needs mending and everybody else has their own tasks to do. The little ones pick up plastic and other rubbish that might have been swept into the homestead overnight and after that go feed the chickens. Mom would always be awake preparing her morning soup (yum). Once the sun was well up we would all converge and have breakfast together and discuss the chores for the day.

That is the village life I enjoy it so much but I had to leave to come make a living in the city. I can’t wait for the day I go back home for another visit. Notice I said home, that is because for me, the village is HOME.

Now the city life is beckoning and I have just realized that it is very difficult to get around inn Windhoek without your own car. For this reason I am busy fixing GiGi which is my 1953 Volkswagen beetle. I can’t wait till she recovers from this slump. Roam the city we shall J.
Well I will update this part of my life often (I know I skipped all the details about the party, that is deliberate because there is simply just too much to tell and telling a story half is worse than not telling at all.)

Laterz,

G!

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