Solace Down the Kunene

December 24 - Day 5

Christmas Eve.  I am sitting in the sand on the banks of the Kunene with my two closest friends at the moment – my small mopane campfire and my machete.  Certainly doesn’t feel like Christmas.  In fact, I would have forgotten if it weren’t for the young lad I shared the trail with for a few kilometers this afternoon.  He had walked to the nearest neighbors (2-3 kilometers away) to pick up a chunk of pork that his family was going to feast on for the occasion.

The sun has set and as I write this I know that my family is putting the final touches on their own Christmas dinner.  I am quite used to being away from home for the holidays, but I do miss it dearly.  However, times like these are special and there is not much that I would trade it for.

I would consider today typical – knocked off 20k, greeted some Himba, ate fresh bananas and mangoes, and continued to be paranoid about crocs, snakes, scorpions, and overly curious villagers stumbling into camp.  It was confirmed today that I freak the Himba out, at least the younger ones.  I was taking a rest at the delta of a dry riverbed when I spotted a young Himba boy wandering around further up the sandy riverbed.  I was certain that he had to have seen me as I was out in plain view.  However, after about 30 minutes he had made his way near me behind some bushes.  I saw him coming at me and assumed he was coming to chat.  Not the case though.  As he rounded a tree and I came into view he jumped back and gave one heck of a yell.  I only sat there and laughed.  We ended up chatting for awhile and our conversation ended with him wanting my shirt and me refusing to give it to him.

It was a good day.  I don’t think I will be leaving out any milk and cookies though; I ate all my cookies and I don’t feel like finding a goat to milk at this hour.  Besides, I ain’t so sure the Kunene River is on Santa’s circuit.

Himba homestead with the Zebra Mountains in the background

Following a river is pretty straightforward but I always like to know where I am and where I am going…well, as much as possible with my 1979 Suidwes-Afrika map (Suidwes-Afrika is Afrikaans for Southwest Africa, from the days when Namibia wasn’t even Namibia yet)

Unidentified flower of sorts

There are not many things that are more comforting than digging your feet in the sand, sitting next to a campfire, listening to the flow of the river, and watching the sun set over the horizon