The One Where The Fecal Matter Had a Collision With The Fan

  So, where to begin. I guess, I should first take a moment to catch my breath. As I am writing this (well, at least the first, handwritten, chicken scratch draft), I am sitting in the back of a bakkie, on a dirt road, and the windows unable to close. To say I am covered in dust is an understatement, to say the least. Okay, let me just grab a swig of this Pine Nut, and then I'll get one with my story of this past weekend (we're close to Khorixas, so most of this won't actually be written in the bakkie, mainly just this paragraph and the general outline for this post).

  It started off innocently enough. Thanksgiving Dinner in Opuwo, followed by a trip to Epupa Falls for a couple days of getting away. Nice, relaxing, nothing going at work, and I got no water in my flat anyway, so why not get away for a few days? Travel was long, though easy enough. Took a couple hours to get out of Khorixas (a woman called the driver to pick her up, and made us sit outside her house for almost an hour, then the car had to have a tire changed before we left, and, as always, the drivers have to make about 10 random stops around town to deal with various business they have). Whatever, this is why I left my flat around 7am. Besides, I got half-off on my coffee at the gas station while I was waiting for the car, since they had no milk (those of you who know how I drink my coffee are thinking "suckers" right now, and for the rest of you, I find milk in my coffee to be disgusting). Hoping to get to Outjo and hike with some other volunteers going my way. Two hour delay killed that plan. Whatever. Managed to get a free ride in a Beare's furniture transport to a checkpoint about halfway between Kamanjab and Opuwo (okay, not quite free; I had to buy them lunch in Kamanjab, which was like $50). For those of you who are lost, check my Maps tab, or the road map on my My Map tab, or use Google. Seriously, it's not tough. Stop being lazy (if the person I'm directing this to is reading this, you know who you are). At this point, my journey stalled a bit, but, since I got to play with puppies, that was no big deal (sorry, no photos, since my camera was in my pack). Eventually, I manage to get a ride in the back of a bakkie. But not just any bakkie. This was a livestock bakkie transporting goats and sheep. I ended up with a baby goat in my lap. By far both the shittiest (pun absolutely intended) and most adorable ride I've gotten. One more ride later, I make it to Opuwo finally. Phew. Only took about 12 hours. Get a beer, bust out my little braai stand, whip up some boerewors, and have a nice relaxing evening chilling with some peops.

  Okay, I'm back in my flat now. It took me a few days to really process what happened after I arrived in Opuwo. Short version: on Thursday we had a late Thanksgiving dinner, on Friday we traveled to Epupa Falls, on Saturday we hung out, on Sunday we awoke to the wreckage from Saturday night, and on Monday I returned to Khorixas in the back of that dusty bakkie. Okay, now for the longer, more interesting version.

  On Thursday, we woke up, and sometime in the mid-morning, went to the supermarket for supplies to cook Thanksgiving dinner. We didn't have a turkey, but Nay had arranged for some of his friends in Opuwo to prepare traditional Ovambo chickens (along with a traditional drink whose name I forget). Other people made an interesting green bean casserole (featuring ramen noodles and onion-favored Simba chips), mashed potatoes, salad, baked pineapple, banana bread, stuffing, and a couple other dishes. My contribution? This probably won't surprise many of you, but the first thing I contributed was cornbread. Of course, this wasn't simple cornbread. This cornbread, as Taylor described it when I made it for her on actual Thanksgiving, was more like confetti cake cornbread. Roasted onions ad bell peppers, creamed corn, cheese, garlic, crushed chilies, and peri-peri pepper in one batch, a non-spicy (and less pretty) version for the wimpier guests. O course, that wasn't all I made. Once the cornbread was cooling, it was time to fire up the braai stand (I love my little portable braai stand, even if it isn't always practical for large groups) and grilled up some mushrooms (big spenders we were), onions, peppers, boerewors, and tomatoes. Of course, we had apple pie (Rouchelle's super American contribution).

  And, of course, while all this cooking was going on, the football and beers had come out. We may have eaten later than planned and not had plates (Nay, seriously? At least I brought my "ultimate plate," or Frisbee, for those of you who didn't get that). And we ate. Quite a bit. And it was good. A very multi-cultural experience, with a table surrounded by American Peace Corps Volunteers, German Red Cross volunteers, Japanese volunteers, and several types of Namibians (I think Himba, Herero, and Ovambo). We went around the table and shared what we were thankful for (we are all thankful for stuffing). The Japanese and German volunteers were talking about bringing a similar tradition back with them when they returned to their countries. Overall, a very pleasurable evening.

  The next morning, we spent a few hours cleaning up, went to the grocery store, and then it was time to hop in the combi and make our way up to Epupa Falls. We got to the campsite around dusk and got our tents set up. It was decided that we would just eat the Thanksgiving leftovers and PB&J sandwiches for dinner. Of course, that didn't stop people from insisting we needed a fire. Sorry if I sound like I'm overplaying my part here, but at this point, despite not seeing the point, I made a fire happen (yes, Johanna, I did need that much fire starter, since if I'm going to make a fire without reason, I'm going to be lay about it). Then, we sat around, away from the fire, of course, and hung out, eating, enjoying a couple drinks, enjoying being out in nature, the sound of the river and the stars above.

  When I woke up in the morning, I made a fire, and put on some eggs to boil. Of course, we'd forgotten coffee, and when I went to the lodge to get a cup, they let the fire burn out. So, we built it up again. Of course, someone insisted we needed big flames to boil water, and kept smothering the fire (seriously, if "let's ask a Namibian" is anywhere on your list of steps for building a fire, maybe just let the Eagle Scout do his thing and just keep your opinions to yourself and out of his way?), so the eggs didn't boil. More PB&J for breakfast. Then, it was time to walk to the actual falls. When you get there, you come out on top of the falls, and it was quite breathtaking. Snap a bunch of photos, and then off went the shirts, shoes, and, for the women, pants, and into the water we went. Not a bad way to cool off for a couple hours. In the early afternoon, I went back to the campsite with some of the group while others continued to hike. Got the fire going again, got the eggs boiling. Spent the afternoon lounging around, reading, enjoying some cool drinks (like Fanta, not beer), and taking photos. Around 4, got the fire going and time to cook. Boiled some pasta and grilled veggies to add to it, shotgunned a few beers while the Germans taught us an awesome drinking game called "Flanky Ball" (or something like that). Got the meat going, and was just about cooking, when...

...Drip...

...Drip...

...DOWNPOUR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  It rained. And rained. Probably more rain that night than I've seen my entire rest of my time in Namibia. I was smart (sorry to toot my own horn again) and got my bag in the combi (later that night, I would provide dry shirts to cold campers). A couple people had gone into their tents to hide out. Big mistake, as a tree fell on the tents. Had to cut their way out. Fortunately, we had an ex-EMT in the group, and there was nothing more serious than some bad cuts. Since I was already soaked, Brandon, Crystal, and I went over to the lodge, had a few drinks, chatted with the other people there. The manager had apparently been in the US during Katrina (in Baltimore). Crystal and I, who had different degrees of experiences with actual hurricanes, enjoyed a few laughs at the expense of those who thought this storm was comparable. We arranged with the manager to get use of a couple of the lodge's empty permanent tents (such as they were, as one was flooded on the floor and the other had a tree fall on the canopy, as my photos show). Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating my part in all this, but, hey, this is my blog, so I'm the hero, or at least protagonist, of this story. Once the rain stopped, I went back to the combi, collected the group, and brought people to reception (delegating various tasks, while not exactly sober, in a sequence which Nay found quite funny). The staff there allowed us to use their kitchen to finish preparing dinner. A few bites in, my adrenaline crashed, and I was out.

  In the morning, I'm pretty sure I was the first of our group up. Walked around and observed (okay, photographed) the carnage left by the storm. One of the lodge staff said in all her years working there (with the wind and her accent, I couldn't tell if she said 13 or 30 years), she'd never experienced a storm like it. It was crazy.Tents destroyed, trees downed, power out, obviously. My friends asleep wherever they'd found someplace dry: under tables, in chairs, on the floor, in the tent with the collapsed canopy. After we'd woken up and had a few cups of coffee, we went back to the campsite to see the damage and pack up. Surprisingly, the only damage my China Shop tent suffered was broken stakes (it had blown away when the storm started, so I put it in the bathroom, which I'm sure helped). Munched on the eggs. Had to push the combi to get it going. The lodge staff gave us some sandwiches and pancakes (I thought they were more like biscuits, though I wasn't complaining either way, just trying to give you all the details I can).

  At this point, I should probably take a moment to point out how grateful (or, since this was a Thanksgiving celebration, thankful) I am for my years in Troop 52 and the skills I developed in my years in BSA.

  Then, when the combi was loaded up, we were on the road. Until the the combi battery died. Then we jumped it. Until the clutch went out. Then we got moving again, until a river blocked us. We powered through. Eventually, we got back to Opuwo. The plan had been to just head back to Khorixas that day. Not happening. Instead, we went to the grocery store and got some frozen pizzas (and a Popsicle for myself). Of course, the electricity in Opuwo was out, so I let Johanna (who'd been criticizing my fires all weekend) get a fire going (eventually, she did), and started cooking them on the flames until the power came back on and we could use Nay's microwave (how cushy does he have it?). We watched "Guardians of the Galaxy" on Rouchelle's laptop, went to bed, and in the morning, it was time to head back. I actually managed to get a direct ride to Khorixas from a police checkpoint about 60km outside Opuwo, so, other than the dust, it wasn't all that bad.

  Got home, no water to wash myself (over two weeks since our water was cut because people at head office can't perform the basic task of making sure checks get mailed, especially since the concept of firing people for not doing their jobs was like a novel idea when I mentioned it to my co-workers). I did manage to rinse most of the dust off when it started to rain about an hour after I got back, and the vet nearby has been letting me use his hose to fill water jugs from time-to-time, and various neighbors have let me use their toilets, but it's still rather frustrating to know that I am the one suffering, and the people responsible will face no consequences whatsoever, even though it'll probably be January when I get my water back, and I need to do laundry big time.

  Okay, so that was my Opuwo story. A pretty epic weekend, even if maybe a disaster (some of you are chuckling, because I've left out some of my venting that they've been subjected to). But, before I leave you, one little story; a cute one. When I got back, not only did I have no water, but no food either. So, I went to my gas station to get a burger and chips (the only place to get food in my town in the evening, other than braai stands). As I was paying, I noticed the Christmas decorations up (I'm planning on taking advantage of my tripod as photographing the Christmas lights around town). What I didn't notice at first was a few strands of blue and white decorations. Bells and stars. The lady proudly proclaimed they were "Jewish Christmas decorations" to make the "Jewish Damara" feel welcomed in the town. Sure, the stars were 5-point stars. I didn't care. I was touched when she said that. I really did feel like a true part of the community. I felt loved. And it was nice.

  So, that's my story. I hope you enjoyed it, though I definitely think the photos (albums linked in the paragraphs above, in case you missed them), more than my words, are the closest I will come to doing the whole thing justice. Well, //Khawa mugus. !Gai tsesa u ha re.