Travel is fatal to prejudice

Travel is fatal to prejudice. – Mark Twain

In her 2009 TED talk African author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie relates the effect of stereotypes. When her college roommate in Philadelphia heard that Ms. Adichie was from Nigeria, she assumed that her family lived in a village of grass huts without modern appliances and that she grew up listening to traditional tribal music. In fact, Adichie grew up on a college campus and listened to music from singers like Mariah Carey.

Many of us learned what little we know about ordinary life in Africa from old movies. Inaccurate information and unsubtle racism shaped those images, and not much has replaced them. I found myself confronting my own ignorance on this trip. I’d like to present more recent images in case you, too, would like an update.

The city of Maun in Botswana has about 55,000 people, large enough for nearby villages to have become suburbs. I don’t know the name of this village that we drove through on the outskirts of Maun, but a simple drive was enlightening. The village has brick homes, a brick school, cars, power lines, planned streets, fenced yards, infrastructure in place. There are also homes built with cinder block, which I suspect stays fairly cool in African heat, and some built with corrugated metal, which wouldn’t stay as cool. There is one traditional round hut (at :30-:33). All of the other buildings are western in style.

Phone technology may leapfrog in parts of Africa. Cell phones were everywhere, and wifi was common, at least in our hotels. However, I didn’t see a lot of phone poles or wires, suggesting that parts of Botswana may skip landlines altogether. Solar water heaters were common. Solar power cells were not unusual. Not everyone had a car, but taxi service was readily available.

Cities like Swapkomund in Namibia showed more foreign influence. Namibia was colonized by Germany in the late 1800s and early 1900s, and evidence of that influence remains in placenames and architecture. Since the African nations have become independent, though, they have built on established infrastructure and emphasized local culture.

A hotel built to look like a Swiss chalet, with a courtyard and a bottlebrush tree.
A hotel in Namibia looks like a Swiss chalet and reveals German influence. The tree in the courtyard is a bottlebrush.

Outside the old part of the city – the historically white part of town – things are different. In the older part of “The Township” – the historically black part of town – established homes show the results of economic opportunity and growth.

This Herero woman (whose name I regret I didn’t get) welcomed us to walk through her home in the oldest part of The Township. The back door opened into the kitchen, with a beautiful glossy white tile floor and standard appliances – stove, refrigerator, and microwave. Her living room (and I assume the rest of the house – I didn’t snoop!) was well furnished, with curtains drawn against the heat of the day.

This kitchen has white glossy floor tile, wood cabinetry, a microwave oven on the right, and 4 people.
This Herero woman invited us into her home in the oldest part of the township. The microwave oven, right, sits across from a standard refrigerator and stove.

The Township is growing as more Namibians leave villages and smaller towns, looking for work. The Namibian government is trying to help people buy their own newer homes using a lottery system, but the need outstrips the program.

To the left, laundry dries in bright sunshine. To the right, a little girl stands by the back door of her home.
Farther out in the township, laundry dries in sunshine. A little girl stands by the back door of her home.

In the newest parts of The Township, people live in whatever they can find or build, working when they can, saving what they can, and waiting for each year’s annual lottery, hoping to upgrade. Entrepreneurship is the rule. Workers often have 2 or 3 jobs or a job and a small business. Winning the lottery doesn’t guarantee money; it guarantees help with financing a home.

Five or more homes built from scrap. The edge of the street is marked with old tires partially buried vertically.
Township homes built from scrap and not intended to be permanent. Old tires partially buried vertically mark the edge of the street.

Third World poverty is real in Africa, but it’s not the only story. Grass huts are probably real in remote areas, but most people don’t live like that any more. Africa is working hard to educate its children, house its families, and develop economic opportunities for everyone. The growth is uneven, as it is everywhere, but it is real.

Dune 45

Dune 45 is a star. It glistens in the Namib son — bright orange — sand saturated with rust and pulverized garnets.

Climbers atop Dune 45 in Namibia. In the lower left, a tree casts a shadow.
Dune 45

It is so well known that my camera recorded the location simply as “Dune 45.” Located at the 45th kilometer mark on the road connecting Sesreim and Sossusvlei, it’s a popular site for climbers in the morning before the sand becomes too hot.

Eight climbers climb Dune 45 in bright sun.
Climbers battle sun and hot sand to climb Dune 45.

It is also a star in shape, formed by winds from three directions. It grows highest at its center — 80 or 170 meters, depending on who you ask — and from there three arms spiral out. Sand blows in from the coast, the Kalahari Desert, and the Orange River. Geologists estimate that it’s 5 million years old.

Climbers approach the center of the top of the ridge.
Climbers approach the center of the top of the ridge.

By day people leave footprints on its spine and sides, climbing to its top, smiling for selfies, and then trudging (or sandsurfing!) back down. They pour the remains of metal and precious stones out of their shoes, drink water, and rest in whatever shade they can find. Then they leave the dune to the insects, snakes, birds, and wind.

Hikes rest at the base of the dune.
A hiker rests at the base of the dune.

Night breezes will restore its natural beauty.

Sand ripples on the side of the dune.
Sand ripples on the side of the dune.

We’re here for a blip of time. We climb, smile, and drive away. It’s a big day for us. The dunes just smile and wait for tomorrow.

Branches from a dead tree in the foreground frame the hikers atop Dune 45.
Climbers on Dune 45
A lone hiker atop Dune 45
A lone hiker atop Dune 45
Dune 45 in the distance, bright on the left, dark on the right, with a tree to the far left foreground. There are many footprints on the ground between the tree and the base of the dune. People are climbing the dune. It's a sunny day.
Dune 45
I am sitting in the shade of a tree. Behind me, vehicles in the parking lot.
I found the only shade available and jotted down my thoughts.

The !Nara Shrub, Namib Desert

The exterior of the !Nara melon is so unappealing that its scientific name includes an editorial comment: acanthosicyos horridus.

Five green and one ripe, open !nara melons on the shrub and resting on the sand of the desert.
!Nara melons. Photo courtesy of travelnewsnamibia.com

But the !Nara shrub – the ! indicates a clicking sound in the Nama language – and the melon it produces are essential to the Namib Desert. It’s called a keystone species, one whose influence on the ecosystem is so important that its absence might cause collapse.

Fossils suggest that the plant is more than 1000 years old, enough time to adapt to desert conditions. It has thorns but no leaves, protecting it from the desert sun. Its branches may grow 15 feet tall to adjust to the desert’s shifting sands, and it provides food for many desert inhabitants: beetles, gemsbok, ostriches, and the Nama people. Ostrich grass and Bushman grass, sheltered by the shrub, sometimes grow on the same mound. Botanically it’s related to the cucumber, and reports suggest that it tastes like an avocado or like a cross between a cucumber and a pineapple. The seeds are edible, and the fruit can be dried and stored for several years.

!Nara melons and shrub in the desert.
!Nara shrub and melons. Photo courtesy of TravelNewsNamibia.com

Ironically, the !Nara shrub is not considered a true desert plant. It can survive years without rain because it grows only where its very long tap roots – as long as 150 feet – can find a water channel underground.

Our guides showed us two true desert plants. The first, the dollar bush, is a succulent with a delicate white bloom. When the wind shifts, the dollar bush is quickly covered over by sand.

A dollar plant grows in the desert.
The dollar plant is a succulent with delicate white flowers.
The tips of the dollar plant are visible above desert sand.
This dollar plant is being covered over by desert sand.

The second is the pencil bush. It, too, has a white flower. It’s sturdier than the dollar bush and provides food and shelter for desert animals like the horned adder or namaqua chameleon. Shifting sand will kill it, though.

If the !Nara shrub is covered with sand, its branches will grow longer, keeping the plant alive, providing more food and shelter to other species. Because its roots run deep, it can survive the challenge.

In the foreground on the left, a pencil shrub. On the right, a !nara shrub. Other shrubs and a dune are in the background.
In the foreground on the left, a pencil shrub. On the right, a !nara shrub.

People of faith may see a metaphor in this. God provides what we need as we try to bear fruit in the wilderness. It’s up to us to develop roots that stay connected, though.

!Nara shrub and dune
!Nara shrub and dune, photo courtesy of media.ellerstrand.se