I thought long and hard about the title for this post.
I have now spent a total of four and a half months in Lagos, but I still do not have the foggiest idea about real life in Lagos, therefore the addition '- Expat style"
Staying in Lagos as an expat is a world removed from staying in Lagos as a Nigerian. From what I have seen, there are two distinct groups in Lagos: The Haves and the Have-nots.
Like in most African countries the Have-nots outnumber the Haves by far; I do not know the ratio, but from what I see the Haves may be a single digit percentage.
My first stint in Lagos was the three months before Christmas last year. For me it was a hectic period in more than one way, which made the time go quite quickly. I arrived in Lagos at a very active time in the project, working very long hours for a couple of weeks. Even though it was tough it helped to make the time go by.
I have just completed another visit to Lagos. It was supposed to be just two weeks but while I was in Tel-Aviv before going to Lagos, I was told that my visit will be extended by four weeks. My mindset was not prepared for it, but I if you read this I managed to survive.
During the last couple of days I had opportunity to move through some of the areas where I have not been before. It just made me more aware of the fact that I have not experienced Lagos like the locals.
I have a slight dilemma to deal with regarding this blog. I started witing the orinal blog in Casablanca because I had such a lot of experiences I wanted to share.
This Bunduboere blog also started because Regina and I had such a great opportunity to see Namibia and wanted to share our experiences.
In Lagos my experience in general was not positive. I did not want to write about all the negative things I saw and experienced because I have made a couple of great friends among the local people with whom I worked, and I did not want to offend them.
After discussions with some of these local friends I will try to express my feelings as honestly as possible but still try not to be insulting about their culture and country.
There are a number of issues that will always come to mind when I think about my time in Lagos. And now you have to bear a bit of the negative.
One of the things that I will always find difficult to get used to is the dirt. In Durbanville, where I live, one would immediately notice litter like a couple of papers in the street. We would moan about someone dropping leaves or sand in the street.
In Lagos one sees litter and rubbish around every corner. I have seen dustbins, but they are often broken or overflowing with rubbish that is rotting from a week ago.
Lekki Phase I, as the area we stay is known, is one of the more up market suburbs of Lagos. Houses, that belong to the Haves, of around US$ 10 million is not uncommon, but around the corner from our apartment is a public dump where once a week somebody set the rubbish on fire. In the first place it stinks to high heaven, it is filthy and when it burns it creates the most awful smoke and pollution. As we say: TIA - That is Africa.
The second most frustrating thing to me must be the traffic. To give you an idea how bad the traffic is, today one of the local colleagues said that he stays at the office till after 20:00 to miss the traffic. When I asked him how far he lives from the office, he said that it takes him three hours to get home. He did not have any idea how many kilometers it is. He only knows that if he leaves the office around 18:00 it could take him five hours to get home, and he uses his own vehicle, not public transport.
One of the reasons that traffic is so horrific is what I would call Competitive Driving. Every driver on the road, whether it is an Okada (a motorcycle used as taxi) or a huge tipper truck, or anything in between, tries to fill up the gap in front of himself as quickly as possible. The result is that nobody voluntarily gives way to anybody, resulting in the most ridiculous traffic jams wherever there is a reduction in the number of lanes or sometimes just at a turn in the road.
Traffic circles also become a joke. According to European law one has to give way to a vehicle in the circle “without let or hindrance”. In Lagos that could be as little as 30 cm while driving 60 km/h. Often the traffic just grind to a halt because the people entering the circle does not even attempt to give way to those inside.
Apart from the traffic, the roads are also something out of a Rocky Horror movie, all pun intended. Last year Regina and I travelled 6,000 km on Namibia dirt roads, as described in this blog. In all that time we never came across any road as bad as many of the streets in Lagos. Right here in Lekki, the last 100 meters of street to our apartment is best travelled in a 4x4, and that does not even take into consideration the dams that form in the potholes during the torrential summer rains.
Whenever we travelled from our apartment in Lekki to Victoria Island, 8.5 km away, I noticed that depending on the driver, and time of day, we will take different routes to avoid traffic jams. Sometimes the road the road that a particular driver would take is so bad that the only place to drive is the one surviving pavement. They would prefer bouncing along through potholes rather than spending up to 2 hours on that 8.5 km
The whole Victoria Island business district and Lekki Peninsula residential area are all less than about 5 meter above sea level. When it rains the water has nowhere to go and therefore it stays in the street. On top of that some of the streets were apparently made by amateur road builders with the result that potholes develop in tarred streets that are big enough to park my Fortuner in.
I still have lost more on my heart, but now the best thing about Lagos is about to happen. I am busy packing my last stuff and will be leaving tonight.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
In The Holy Land
I was recently offered a choice between a job with an Israeli company in Gauteng or another year in Lagos. It felt like having to choose which of my big toes I was willing to cut off.
After much prayer, and support from the members of our Community at JoshGen, I accepted the job in Gauteng.
An exiting part of the job is that much of the training I require is presented in Tel-Aviv, Israel and also in Bucharest, Romania. As it turned out, my first day at the Israeli company I had to report to the head office in Tel-Aviv.
Getting to Tel-Aviv was an ordeal in its own right. Since the training was scheduled to start on Sunday, I had to be in Tel-Aviv on the Saturday. El-Al, the Israeli airline, does not fly on Friday, their Schabbat. The only available flight was with Ethiopian Airlines.
After a sleepless night on very hard seats, and a 3 hour stop in Addis Ababa, I arrived in Tel-Aviv around 4 o'clock on Saturday. I checked into an hotel right next to the company office and went to sleep.
The part of Tel-Aviv where I stayed and worked for the week was part of the commercial hub of the city. Lots of office buildings and restaurants line the street.
The course was attended by people from various continents. We had Ricardo from Uruguay, Baljit from USA, Nick from Canada, Daniel from Philippines, Deepak from India, Allesandro from Italy, Dan and Liviu from Romania and your's truly from South Africa.
Some of the other guys were in their late twenties and early thirties. They were very adventurous and visited some of the night spots of Yafo, the coastal part of Tel-Aviv, till early in the emornings
I had a lot to absorb about the training and also the new company, so I did not join in the fun, but used the time to prepare for my upcoming visit to Nigeria.
On Friday, my last day in Israel, Nir our Team Leader, offered to take Deepak and myself out to see Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. I was very excited to get such an opportunity and looked forward to it.
Jerusalem is an important place in the history of Christianity but also plays a big part in the future, according to prophecies in the Bible. It was absolutely awesome to see the Western Wall of the temple.
What really struck me was the fact that for the first time in my life I was walking in a place where Jesus also walked, and seeing things he also saw.
Today many people come to the wall to pray and in one can see them reading from the prayer books while swaying back and forth. They also write messages or prayers on pieces of paper in stick it in the cracks between the stones.
To these people it is a real religious duty, but because it is such an historic place, many tourists are also walking through and talk while others are praying quietly. Like most religious places, men and women are separated by a wall.
Nir also read from one of the books and even put on a Tefilin to show us what it looks like. It is two small black boxes containing verses from the Torah, that observant Jews strap to their forehead during morning prayers.
From Jerusalem we went to the Dead Sea. En route we passed route indicators with names like Qidron, Yericho, Ein Gedi, Qumran and Masada. Even though the spelling was unusual, I was very much aware of the fact that these are names I have previously only seen in the Bible. Now I was there and experienced it all first hand. I always believed the Bible but now it gets a different context.
Swimming, or rather floating, in the Dead Sea was a very strange experience. It is really impossible to sink. The place is 400 meter below sea level resulting in water only flowing into the Dead Sea, and nothing flows out. The salt content of the water is so high that the water feels oily and tastes horrible. It is extremely difficult to get one's feet down to the bottom, and require extreme concentration, because your feet keeps floating to the surface.
I heard that the water has wonderful healing capabilities and experienced it myself. I had a skin irritation because of the dry air in Israel, but after the visit to the Dead Sea, I never felt it again.
I really enjoyed the time in Israel, especially the day in Jerusalem and at the Dead Sea. The only missing element was my wife, Regina. Next time she has to come with.
After much prayer, and support from the members of our Community at JoshGen, I accepted the job in Gauteng.
An exiting part of the job is that much of the training I require is presented in Tel-Aviv, Israel and also in Bucharest, Romania. As it turned out, my first day at the Israeli company I had to report to the head office in Tel-Aviv.
Getting to Tel-Aviv was an ordeal in its own right. Since the training was scheduled to start on Sunday, I had to be in Tel-Aviv on the Saturday. El-Al, the Israeli airline, does not fly on Friday, their Schabbat. The only available flight was with Ethiopian Airlines.
After a sleepless night on very hard seats, and a 3 hour stop in Addis Ababa, I arrived in Tel-Aviv around 4 o'clock on Saturday. I checked into an hotel right next to the company office and went to sleep.
The part of Tel-Aviv where I stayed and worked for the week was part of the commercial hub of the city. Lots of office buildings and restaurants line the street.
The course was attended by people from various continents. We had Ricardo from Uruguay, Baljit from USA, Nick from Canada, Daniel from Philippines, Deepak from India, Allesandro from Italy, Dan and Liviu from Romania and your's truly from South Africa.
Some of the other guys were in their late twenties and early thirties. They were very adventurous and visited some of the night spots of Yafo, the coastal part of Tel-Aviv, till early in the emornings
I had a lot to absorb about the training and also the new company, so I did not join in the fun, but used the time to prepare for my upcoming visit to Nigeria.
On Friday, my last day in Israel, Nir our Team Leader, offered to take Deepak and myself out to see Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. I was very excited to get such an opportunity and looked forward to it.
Jerusalem is an important place in the history of Christianity but also plays a big part in the future, according to prophecies in the Bible. It was absolutely awesome to see the Western Wall of the temple.
What really struck me was the fact that for the first time in my life I was walking in a place where Jesus also walked, and seeing things he also saw.
Today many people come to the wall to pray and in one can see them reading from the prayer books while swaying back and forth. They also write messages or prayers on pieces of paper in stick it in the cracks between the stones.
To these people it is a real religious duty, but because it is such an historic place, many tourists are also walking through and talk while others are praying quietly. Like most religious places, men and women are separated by a wall.
Nir also read from one of the books and even put on a Tefilin to show us what it looks like. It is two small black boxes containing verses from the Torah, that observant Jews strap to their forehead during morning prayers.
From Jerusalem we went to the Dead Sea. En route we passed route indicators with names like Qidron, Yericho, Ein Gedi, Qumran and Masada. Even though the spelling was unusual, I was very much aware of the fact that these are names I have previously only seen in the Bible. Now I was there and experienced it all first hand. I always believed the Bible but now it gets a different context.
Swimming, or rather floating, in the Dead Sea was a very strange experience. It is really impossible to sink. The place is 400 meter below sea level resulting in water only flowing into the Dead Sea, and nothing flows out. The salt content of the water is so high that the water feels oily and tastes horrible. It is extremely difficult to get one's feet down to the bottom, and require extreme concentration, because your feet keeps floating to the surface.
I heard that the water has wonderful healing capabilities and experienced it myself. I had a skin irritation because of the dry air in Israel, but after the visit to the Dead Sea, I never felt it again.
I really enjoyed the time in Israel, especially the day in Jerusalem and at the Dead Sea. The only missing element was my wife, Regina. Next time she has to come with.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
In the Mean Time
It is still going to take me some time before I can write something satisfactory about Lagos. I will therefore first try to fill in the gap between the two trips to Lagos.
I left Lagos just before Christmas looking forward to spend three glorious weeks out of this place. Three months was just too long. It actually went quite fast with all the hard work that went into the project, but I started getting even more grumpy than usual towards the end of my time.
Everything started out as planned. I arrived home a day before Christmas and had time for a quick lunch at Hartenberg with my friend Andrè and daughter Cecilia.
Christmas day Cecilia and I had a lovely lunch next to the sea at the Brass Bell in Kalk Bay. After I had most of a bottle of Hartenberg Cab-Shiraz, Cecilia had to drive and we spent the rest of the day just lazing around the Peninsula. The time just seemed to fly and before I knew it, it was my sister Kittie's 60th birthday. We had a huge party at her daughter Ilse's place in Somerset West, where we saw lots of Kittie's friend and our family.
The next day I left to visit Regina who was at that stage staying with our son Marthinus in Nelson, New Zealand. After the twins, Leon and Alex, were born in Dubai in November 2008, Marthinus and Nicola decided to move to Australia. After I left for Lagos, Regina went to help look after the twins in Sydney.
About a month after Regina arrived in Sydney, they decided to move to Nelson, where Nicola's parents stay.
I arrived in Nelson after nearly two days on the road (or in the air), on New Year's Eve, to what can only be described as a Culture Shock. The only thing Nigeria and New Zealand have in common is the fact that there names start with an "N".
It was really the best antidote for the three months in Lagos. Nelson is just the most perfect spot to forget about the troubles of Africa. Just imagine; the most dangerous creature we encountered was a Sand Fly! There are no snakes, no natural thorns and apparently only one poisonous type of spider. When Marthinus' in-laws asked Regina if we are planning to move to New Zealand, she said that she would feel guilty because life would be too easy, compared to South Africa.
We spend 10 lazy days in and around Nelson and were treated to lots of Kiwi hospitality. Paul, Marthinus' father-in-law took us for a trip on the Marlborough sound with his big motor yacht. We were rocked to sleep on the waters of the sound that night.
One of the highlights was a trip with Nick, Marthinus' brother-in-law, to West Port, his hometown on the West Coast of the South Island. Just the trip to West Port was already spectacular as we drove through about 200 km of lush green mountain passes, winding around a river. Imagine Bloukrans Pass in the Eastern Cape stretching for 200 km; absolutely stunning.
Nick showed us the area where he grew up and took us to eat the pies and fish and chips he remember from his youth. It is a day we will remember for a long time.
It was also great to get to know our grandsons a little. It is interesting how they already show such different personalities at this young age. At least now they know that Oupa and Ouma does not only live inside Skype.
Unfortunately all good things come to an end and Regina decided to go back home with me. Just before we left New Zealand I was told that there were problems with the project in Lagos and I would not be returning there soon. Unfortunately it was tro late to change our flights and we arrived back in Cape Town on the 10th of January, tired but happy to be back on home turf.
I worked out that since I left Lagos I had traveled about 41,000 km to get back to Cape Town; about the same distance as the circumference of the earth.
Then the Big Wait started. I have been waiting for nearly 4 months for the project in Lagos to get back on track. In the interim I have been working at our office in Cape Town, with the knowledge that I could anytime be called on to go back to Lagos.
I have since been made a job offer by an Israeli company to work in Southern Africa from an office in Centurion, Gauteng. I started with a week's training in Tel-Aviv and now I am back in Lagos.
But more about all that in the next installment.
I left Lagos just before Christmas looking forward to spend three glorious weeks out of this place. Three months was just too long. It actually went quite fast with all the hard work that went into the project, but I started getting even more grumpy than usual towards the end of my time.
Everything started out as planned. I arrived home a day before Christmas and had time for a quick lunch at Hartenberg with my friend Andrè and daughter Cecilia.
Christmas day Cecilia and I had a lovely lunch next to the sea at the Brass Bell in Kalk Bay. After I had most of a bottle of Hartenberg Cab-Shiraz, Cecilia had to drive and we spent the rest of the day just lazing around the Peninsula. The time just seemed to fly and before I knew it, it was my sister Kittie's 60th birthday. We had a huge party at her daughter Ilse's place in Somerset West, where we saw lots of Kittie's friend and our family.
The next day I left to visit Regina who was at that stage staying with our son Marthinus in Nelson, New Zealand. After the twins, Leon and Alex, were born in Dubai in November 2008, Marthinus and Nicola decided to move to Australia. After I left for Lagos, Regina went to help look after the twins in Sydney.
About a month after Regina arrived in Sydney, they decided to move to Nelson, where Nicola's parents stay.
I arrived in Nelson after nearly two days on the road (or in the air), on New Year's Eve, to what can only be described as a Culture Shock. The only thing Nigeria and New Zealand have in common is the fact that there names start with an "N".
It was really the best antidote for the three months in Lagos. Nelson is just the most perfect spot to forget about the troubles of Africa. Just imagine; the most dangerous creature we encountered was a Sand Fly! There are no snakes, no natural thorns and apparently only one poisonous type of spider. When Marthinus' in-laws asked Regina if we are planning to move to New Zealand, she said that she would feel guilty because life would be too easy, compared to South Africa.
We spend 10 lazy days in and around Nelson and were treated to lots of Kiwi hospitality. Paul, Marthinus' father-in-law took us for a trip on the Marlborough sound with his big motor yacht. We were rocked to sleep on the waters of the sound that night.
One of the highlights was a trip with Nick, Marthinus' brother-in-law, to West Port, his hometown on the West Coast of the South Island. Just the trip to West Port was already spectacular as we drove through about 200 km of lush green mountain passes, winding around a river. Imagine Bloukrans Pass in the Eastern Cape stretching for 200 km; absolutely stunning.
Nick showed us the area where he grew up and took us to eat the pies and fish and chips he remember from his youth. It is a day we will remember for a long time.
It was also great to get to know our grandsons a little. It is interesting how they already show such different personalities at this young age. At least now they know that Oupa and Ouma does not only live inside Skype.
Unfortunately all good things come to an end and Regina decided to go back home with me. Just before we left New Zealand I was told that there were problems with the project in Lagos and I would not be returning there soon. Unfortunately it was tro late to change our flights and we arrived back in Cape Town on the 10th of January, tired but happy to be back on home turf.
I worked out that since I left Lagos I had traveled about 41,000 km to get back to Cape Town; about the same distance as the circumference of the earth.
Then the Big Wait started. I have been waiting for nearly 4 months for the project in Lagos to get back on track. In the interim I have been working at our office in Cape Town, with the knowledge that I could anytime be called on to go back to Lagos.
I have since been made a job offer by an Israeli company to work in Southern Africa from an office in Centurion, Gauteng. I started with a week's training in Tel-Aviv and now I am back in Lagos.
But more about all that in the next installment.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Hey, what happened?
I had high hopes of writing a couple of blog posts during my initial stay in Lagos. Unfortunately it did not happen.
The title for this blog comes from the "Zap-it in the Zibby" advert from my youth.
I started writing my first blog (Boer in Casablanca) during my stay of 9 months in Morocco. I just saw and experienced so much and even though some of my experiences were spiritually depressing, the overall picture I have of Morocco is still very positive.
When Regina and I went to Namibia we knew from the outset that the experience will be positive and therefore I started with this blog when we left Cape Town en route to Namibia.
Our Namibian excursion lived up to all our expectations as I trust you would have gathered from earlier posts. It was however cut short when the opportunity to work in Lagos, Nigeria came up.
My expectations of Lagos was not very high and when I arrived I saw things that were really disturbing. I expected that I would have a lot to write about, but for a number of reasons I never managed to put it in this blog.
One of the main reasons why I could not write about Lagos was the fact that my previous blogs were the result of mostly positive experiences and memories about the places that I visited. In Lagos there is in my mind not much positive to write about. Most of the experiences I had in Lagos were in some way clouded by something negative.
For example, we stayed and worked in one of the best suburbs of Lagos, but travelling the less than one kilometer to work was stressful because everybody drive like maniacs. Also, the road between the apartment and office was so bad, that even in this upmarket suburb eight cars got stuck in the potholes in the street.
I also felt that it would not be courteous to my Nigerian colleagues to relay these negative experiences in a public blog.
Then my stay in Lagos was cut short due to contractual problems between the company I work for and the operator in Lagos. When I left Lagos just before Christmas I was expecting to be back in three weeks for another three months stint. It took more than four months before I eventually returned.
Having been away from Lagos for four months gave me time to reflect on the time I had here and I actually managed to find some positive points. For example, this is one of the few places where I have been where I do not have chest problems. Not much but something positive.
A lot has happened to the Bunduboere in the months since the last post in October. I will try to relate some of these experiences in the next posts.
Hope to be back soon.
The title for this blog comes from the "Zap-it in the Zibby" advert from my youth.
I started writing my first blog (Boer in Casablanca) during my stay of 9 months in Morocco. I just saw and experienced so much and even though some of my experiences were spiritually depressing, the overall picture I have of Morocco is still very positive.
When Regina and I went to Namibia we knew from the outset that the experience will be positive and therefore I started with this blog when we left Cape Town en route to Namibia.
Our Namibian excursion lived up to all our expectations as I trust you would have gathered from earlier posts. It was however cut short when the opportunity to work in Lagos, Nigeria came up.
My expectations of Lagos was not very high and when I arrived I saw things that were really disturbing. I expected that I would have a lot to write about, but for a number of reasons I never managed to put it in this blog.
One of the main reasons why I could not write about Lagos was the fact that my previous blogs were the result of mostly positive experiences and memories about the places that I visited. In Lagos there is in my mind not much positive to write about. Most of the experiences I had in Lagos were in some way clouded by something negative.
For example, we stayed and worked in one of the best suburbs of Lagos, but travelling the less than one kilometer to work was stressful because everybody drive like maniacs. Also, the road between the apartment and office was so bad, that even in this upmarket suburb eight cars got stuck in the potholes in the street.
I also felt that it would not be courteous to my Nigerian colleagues to relay these negative experiences in a public blog.
Then my stay in Lagos was cut short due to contractual problems between the company I work for and the operator in Lagos. When I left Lagos just before Christmas I was expecting to be back in three weeks for another three months stint. It took more than four months before I eventually returned.
Having been away from Lagos for four months gave me time to reflect on the time I had here and I actually managed to find some positive points. For example, this is one of the few places where I have been where I do not have chest problems. Not much but something positive.
A lot has happened to the Bunduboere in the months since the last post in October. I will try to relate some of these experiences in the next posts.
Hope to be back soon.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Picking up the Story(line)
Yes, the BunduBoere have not been eaten by a lion or some cannibals. We are still very much alive.
Much has happened since the last post on our blog.
I had to go to Gaborone, Botswana for some work and decided to drive up so that Regina could go with me. Just as well because instead of the planned 4 days my stay was extended to 10 days. We stayed in very beautiful accommodation, on a small holding south of Gaborone. Regina became quite a boffin on the birds of Gaborone because she spent most of her time at the bungalow.
In the mean time I was offered a contract to work in Lagos, Nigeria. So the Saga continues. I arrived in Lagos on Saturday night andd have been working from 0800 to well after 20:00 most evenings.
I can already see that I will have lots to write about here. For example, I stay with a number of colleagues in a very nice apartment, attached to a huge villa, in one of the better areas in Lagos. In contrast to that the road that we travel to our office, just 1 km away, is so bad that in places one really need a 4x4 to get through.
The temperature varies between a night-time low of about 23 and high of 35 degrees Celsius. The humidity is so high that my glasses fog up when I leave an air conditioned building.
The traffic can be quite horrific. We sometimes have to travel to remote sites to telecoms sites. A trip of just 5 km can take more than an hour because here are no enforceable traffic rules. We have drivers that take us where we need to be and they drive much more aggressive than any taxi in South Africa can ever hope to. However, in the couple of days that I have been here, I have not yet seen any accidents.
As you can see there is much to write about. More about Lagos at a later stage.
Much has happened since the last post on our blog.
I had to go to Gaborone, Botswana for some work and decided to drive up so that Regina could go with me. Just as well because instead of the planned 4 days my stay was extended to 10 days. We stayed in very beautiful accommodation, on a small holding south of Gaborone. Regina became quite a boffin on the birds of Gaborone because she spent most of her time at the bungalow.
In the mean time I was offered a contract to work in Lagos, Nigeria. So the Saga continues. I arrived in Lagos on Saturday night andd have been working from 0800 to well after 20:00 most evenings.
I can already see that I will have lots to write about here. For example, I stay with a number of colleagues in a very nice apartment, attached to a huge villa, in one of the better areas in Lagos. In contrast to that the road that we travel to our office, just 1 km away, is so bad that in places one really need a 4x4 to get through.
The temperature varies between a night-time low of about 23 and high of 35 degrees Celsius. The humidity is so high that my glasses fog up when I leave an air conditioned building.
The traffic can be quite horrific. We sometimes have to travel to remote sites to telecoms sites. A trip of just 5 km can take more than an hour because here are no enforceable traffic rules. We have drivers that take us where we need to be and they drive much more aggressive than any taxi in South Africa can ever hope to. However, in the couple of days that I have been here, I have not yet seen any accidents.
As you can see there is much to write about. More about Lagos at a later stage.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Back home again
Yesterday we arrived back home after our visit to Namibia was abruptly interrupted. I had to go to Gauteng for urgent business and Regina had to get to the Eastern Cape to see her mother and sister in Patensie.
Regina left Windhoek the previous Thursday morning and traveled the 2,000 km to Patensie in two days. I managed to get a flight to Gauteng on that Saturday night and spent the week Centurion.
I got a flight to Port Elizabeth on Friday night and spend Saturday with Regina at her family's farm in Patensie. On Sunday afternoon we arrived back home.
At the moment we are not sure exactly what is going to happen in the next week, but we might be going back to Namibia in the near future.
It is really good to be back home. Today I drove on the new bridge between the N1 and M5. Yes, we missed all the World Cup excitement. We heard a couple of Vuvuzelas in Windhoek and saw some of the last matches on TV.
I still plan to post some of our other interesting photos but will need some time to select and place that.
Till next time.
Regina left Windhoek the previous Thursday morning and traveled the 2,000 km to Patensie in two days. I managed to get a flight to Gauteng on that Saturday night and spent the week Centurion.
I got a flight to Port Elizabeth on Friday night and spend Saturday with Regina at her family's farm in Patensie. On Sunday afternoon we arrived back home.
At the moment we are not sure exactly what is going to happen in the next week, but we might be going back to Namibia in the near future.
It is really good to be back home. Today I drove on the new bridge between the N1 and M5. Yes, we missed all the World Cup excitement. We heard a couple of Vuvuzelas in Windhoek and saw some of the last matches on TV.
I still plan to post some of our other interesting photos but will need some time to select and place that.
Till next time.
Monday, July 12, 2010
A mystery debunked
The last two weeks were very hectic with the installation part of the project starting. We all have lots to to and with us on the road most of the time, the places we visited did not have Internet access, so I can only update the blog now.
Back to the story.
During my high school career I travelled to, what was then called, South West Africa. We visited Windhoek, Swakopmund, Ai-Ais Hot Springs, Etosha Game Park and my dad’s relatives who lived on a farm between Outjo and Kamanjab. That, and the fact that we were pulling a caravan, meant that we stayed mostly on the main roads and never ventured into the deep interior parts of, what is now called, Namibia.
Somewhere in this same part of my life I read books about the country and always wanted to visit two specific areas. One of these is the Brandberg and the other is Spitskoppe.
Brandberg had special significance because I read that a rock painting was discovered depicting a white women and the author left the impression of this lonely white women that must have lived with the local tribe and was therefore drawn by a local artist around 2000 years ago. Spitskoppe is a rock formation that rises out of the level ground to enormous height and is apparently something to behold.
I still have not been close to Spitskoppe and would very much like the opportunity to go there if the official part of my job affords me the opportunity.
During the previous week Regina and I were however given the job to go and visit the Brandberg White Lady Lodge, the only lodge in the Brandberg conservancy area. I was really exited because at last I was able to visit that part of Namibia.
We had a very warm and friendly reception at the lodge and ended up spending two nihts at the lodge. Aubrey de Jager, the owner, as well as all his staff, really make an effort to let everybody feel at home and have a good time. The result is a relaxed atmosphere where adults and children relax.
Aubrey told us that he believes the name of the Brandberg (direct translation: Fire Mountain) is derived from the fact that the mountain is coloured red by the rising sun. We got up early the next morning and managed to get a couple of stunning photos of the mountain at sunrise. I stitched together this one to give you an idea of what we saw. It was just much more spectacular than the picture manage to reflect.
We also took photos late in the afternoon to show what the mountain look like under different lighting.
After breakfast we went to see the White Lady of the Brandberg. We were warned not to go to late in the morning since it is a stiff walk of about 2.5 km from the parking spot to the site of the rock paintings. Even in winter it can get very warm in the ravine where one walk.
In earlier days people apparently poured water on the paintings to make it more visible, with the result that the main figure is now very faded. Since the site has been declared as a Namibian Heritage, visitors are only allowed to view the paintings when accompanied by a guide.
On the forty five minute walk to the site, the guide told us that the whole thing is actually a misnomer. The White Lady is neither white nor is it a lady. He gave us a long explanation about various people that visited the site from around 1917/18 to 1947 and published documents about the paintings. You can read the story on wikipedia.org but I have my own interpretation.
I believe that the drawing depicts a hunter who told the story of the day’s hunt and coloured his legs and lower body to represent an antelope, perhaps a springbok, which he shot during the hunt.
This picture shows the White Lady in the lower left corner with, what appears to be, a springbok just above it. Note the white legs and tummy of the springbok. In the top part of the photo is an antelope with legs like a human, also in white.
There are lots of controversies surrounding these drawings because it apparently dates from different times, about 3000 years apart and some are in brown monochrome while others are in three colors. Different people claim that it was painted by their ancestors but it looks very much like Bushmen/San paintings to me.
All I will remember about the outing is that the whole mystery turned out to be just somebody’s flight of fantasy. It also did get pretty uncomfortable on
Now I just need to get to Spitskoppe.....
Back to the story.
During my high school career I travelled to, what was then called, South West Africa. We visited Windhoek, Swakopmund, Ai-Ais Hot Springs, Etosha Game Park and my dad’s relatives who lived on a farm between Outjo and Kamanjab. That, and the fact that we were pulling a caravan, meant that we stayed mostly on the main roads and never ventured into the deep interior parts of, what is now called, Namibia.
Somewhere in this same part of my life I read books about the country and always wanted to visit two specific areas. One of these is the Brandberg and the other is Spitskoppe.
Brandberg had special significance because I read that a rock painting was discovered depicting a white women and the author left the impression of this lonely white women that must have lived with the local tribe and was therefore drawn by a local artist around 2000 years ago. Spitskoppe is a rock formation that rises out of the level ground to enormous height and is apparently something to behold.
I still have not been close to Spitskoppe and would very much like the opportunity to go there if the official part of my job affords me the opportunity.
During the previous week Regina and I were however given the job to go and visit the Brandberg White Lady Lodge, the only lodge in the Brandberg conservancy area. I was really exited because at last I was able to visit that part of Namibia.
We had a very warm and friendly reception at the lodge and ended up spending two nihts at the lodge. Aubrey de Jager, the owner, as well as all his staff, really make an effort to let everybody feel at home and have a good time. The result is a relaxed atmosphere where adults and children relax.
Aubrey told us that he believes the name of the Brandberg (direct translation: Fire Mountain) is derived from the fact that the mountain is coloured red by the rising sun. We got up early the next morning and managed to get a couple of stunning photos of the mountain at sunrise. I stitched together this one to give you an idea of what we saw. It was just much more spectacular than the picture manage to reflect.
We also took photos late in the afternoon to show what the mountain look like under different lighting.
After breakfast we went to see the White Lady of the Brandberg. We were warned not to go to late in the morning since it is a stiff walk of about 2.5 km from the parking spot to the site of the rock paintings. Even in winter it can get very warm in the ravine where one walk.
In earlier days people apparently poured water on the paintings to make it more visible, with the result that the main figure is now very faded. Since the site has been declared as a Namibian Heritage, visitors are only allowed to view the paintings when accompanied by a guide.
On the forty five minute walk to the site, the guide told us that the whole thing is actually a misnomer. The White Lady is neither white nor is it a lady. He gave us a long explanation about various people that visited the site from around 1917/18 to 1947 and published documents about the paintings. You can read the story on wikipedia.org but I have my own interpretation.
I believe that the drawing depicts a hunter who told the story of the day’s hunt and coloured his legs and lower body to represent an antelope, perhaps a springbok, which he shot during the hunt.
This picture shows the White Lady in the lower left corner with, what appears to be, a springbok just above it. Note the white legs and tummy of the springbok. In the top part of the photo is an antelope with legs like a human, also in white.
There are lots of controversies surrounding these drawings because it apparently dates from different times, about 3000 years apart and some are in brown monochrome while others are in three colors. Different people claim that it was painted by their ancestors but it looks very much like Bushmen/San paintings to me.
All I will remember about the outing is that the whole mystery turned out to be just somebody’s flight of fantasy. It also did get pretty uncomfortable on
Now I just need to get to Spitskoppe.....
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