Kavango region

To the Mahango Park, 29 september
We slept well despite the warmth. We opened a window but by that we heard loud music from the neighbors until very late. We have noticed before that music is important here. Everywhere you go, you can hear people singing.

Kees has real Dutch cheese at breakfast. We discuss our idea that we think that there isn't as much racial discrimination in Namibia as there is in South Africa. Unfortunately we're wrong and there is a lot of discrimination here too. His children visited school here. It is not common for black and white children to visit each other after school. And the black housekeeper has to drink from different cups than their white employers and these even have to be washed in different dish-water. But they don't see that as discrimination. (Kees and we ask ourselves what else it might be...)

Yesterday was Pay Day. Every last Friday of the month the salary is paid out, and according to us it is half spend immediately. It is very busy today in Rundu, what gives it an elated atmosphere. In the liquor-stores bills of over N$300 are paid, which is a small capital here.

There is also a market and we are looking for something nice to take home with us. We buy a wooden cup and some sort of spoon. Together it cost N$34 and Hans bids N$25. That is alright at once. That surprises us and we think we might be paying to much. But than again it is only US$ 3,50.

After our visit to the market we go to "Rundu Beach". That is probably a bit to much credit, but it is a tiny beach near the Kavango River. At this moment some people are busy washing their car. We also see some people on the other bank and we find it a strange idea that they are in Angola.

There is still a travel warning for the area East of Rundu, but we still decide to go to the Mahango park. Kees has internet access and we check for the latest information. The Dutch "calamiteitenfonds" maintains its "negative travel advice" but on the site of the Dutch Foreign Ministery it says that the main road to Bagani, the B8, is safe. Our feeling is also good about it and that is important too.

According to Kees the incidents in this area are increasing again after a period of comparative calmness. In the hospitals that he visits for his work, he heard that they have admitted landmine victims. But there can't be any landmines under the tarred road. Besides Kees and his colleagues have to drive that road regularly to visit the hospitals. We can borrow a jerry can with gas, since the gas station at Bagani runs out of gas every now and than and than there is no alternative.

A little later we drive over this B8 to Bagani. This road runs parallel to the Kavango River. There is a three mile wide strip of land between this road and that river and is a dangerous area. At night Angolans cross the river and lay landmines and rape women. Under no condition we will leave this road and we find it a very weird idea that we drive around in this area. It is surreal that we drive here and within three miles dreary things might happen.

Luckily Bagani still has gas and we fill up. At Bagani we leave the main road and drive in a southern direction and come across all kind of little huts. Here clearly lives a nation of fishermen. We see a lot of boats made of hollowed tree-trunks and we regularly see people with some kind of typical fish traps. They are sort of pyramid-shaped reed baskets. We drive to the Ngepi campground but it has a much to large Ibiza atmosphere for us so we decide to go see if we can afford the lodge.

The Ndhovu Lodge is recommended in every guidebook but it looks very deserted. It feels like a haunted hotel. There is absolutely no-one. The accommodation contains of very luxurious tents which seem recently cleaned, and we could easily stay the night in one of them if we wanted. We go sit in the lounge for a while to wait if someone will arrive. There are shells filled with books and we leaf through the guest book. The last entries are more than one year old and are written by visitors who also found this lodge deserted and complained about that. Very weird!!!

Well, up to the Mahangu Lodge than, where we haggle that much of the price that we find the rate acceptable and we book for two nights. We get the owners private room and his belongings are quickly taken from the room. It is the only room in the main building. The other rooms are scattered thatched bungalows in the splendid garden. The door of our room opens directly into the restaurant/reception/lobby. The other guests are a South African family and a German couple that appear to be the private guest of the German owner. At least he spends day and night with them.

The South African family starts a "braai" in the garden, by which the two of us sit at a huge almost empty dinner table. Our food is displayed at a separate table as if it were a buffet. You have to take your own drinks from the bar and write them down in a note book.
After dinner we sit decadent for a while on the viewing platform above the river. Unfortunately we don't see any hippos but should hear them, according to the South African family. What a life. We can imagine why so many Dutch people move to South Africa. It is that we are kept away by the political situation and the insecurity, but else.......

In and around Mahango Park, 30 september
At peep of day we go to the Mahango Park. At the gate we again meet bureaucracy. We have to fill in and sign all kinds of papers again and they even need our passport numbers. It is said that this is for your own safety. If you don't get out of the park at the end of the day, they will come to search for you. But we never see anybody checking the cars that leave the park.

Mahango is a gorgeous little gem, hidden in this remote corner of the country, that is rarely visited. It has quit tropical vegetation and of course there is the river and swamps. This is something different from the exceedingly dry Etosha. It accommodates no large herds but has indeed a lot of more rare animals. We see a lot of species that we didn't see previously this vacation, like roan and sable antelopes. And also baboons and a vervet monkey, a bushbuck and of course buffalo, crocodiles and hippos.

From the bank we watch the hippos. They are reasonably close and make a lot of noise. Some are grazing on the other bank.
Next to the road we see a couple of baboons. Two of them are mating. We can't see them very well, but we hear them much better!

We are also lucky to see some elephants. They are marching through this area. We picnic on the bank at the hippos, but they are now further away.

They seem to encourage people to make a bush walk here. But there are some predators here and a lot of bushes, so we don't do that. One time we leave the car to walk to a group of sable antelopes but it makes me more and more nervous the further we get away from the car. After two to three hundred yards I really want to go back despite the antelopes.

In the afternoon we make a river cruise with a guide of the Mahangu Lodge. He says that the wind is too hard for crocodiles and indeed we don't see many. We notice how afraid he is of hippos. A large group is present so he is very careful. All the Kavango fishermen are scared of hippos and avoid them. A little further floats a solitary hippo. The guide absolutely doesn't go that way because it very likely is a mother with child and those are even more aggressive.
Suddenly a very large hippo head emerges very close to the boat. Boy, how big they are, so close by. Huge! The guide scares himself to death and he moves away very fast. When he calms down he tells that there sometimes are hippos underneath the boat. If they emerge the boat will capsize and than you find yourself in great danger.

We are so very tired that we go to sleep at 9.00 PM. About two hours later someone knocks on our door. We are exhausted so we don't react immediately. The knocking continuous and we stumble out of bed. We open the door and the owner stands outside and wants something from a cupboard (which appears to be a large safe) in our room. He leaves us perplexed and we get more and more angry.

At 11.30 we still can't sleep and we are so angry that we go lodge a complaint at the owner. He tries to excuse himself by saying that he can't help it but other guests want to leave at 5.00 the next morning and need their belongings from the safe. I explode and my English becomes perfect by anger. I tell him that we have nothing to do with the other guests because we hire this room from him. If he wants to rent a room containing a safe, he has to accept that he cannot have access to it whenever he wants. Finally I tell him that I don't want to pay for a night that is interrupted by something like this. The man doesn't say much anymore and we go back to bed and finally fall asleep.

Via Rundu to Otjiwarango, 1 october
We decide to be consequent and not to eat breakfast. This is after all included in the price that we refuse to pay. If we get the bill, last night is indeed deducted. I find it a bit mortifying at this moment, but on the other hand it concerns an ordinary European who has the same values as us and he should have known that you cannot wake your guests at night because you need something from their room.

We leave early and buy our breakfast in a supermarket in Bagani. In Rundu we deliver the unused jerry can at Kees' work. Unfortunately he isn't here himself, so we write him a thank-you-note.

In this region a lot of women carry supplies on their heads such as water containers. Today in Rundu we see a tiny little boy walking behind his mother. He carries a small half liter bottle with water on his head but has to hold it to prevent it from falling. It looks very cute.

Between Rundu and the cattle fence it is time to eat and we use a picnic table by the side of the road. Clearly the schools have just gone out since a lot of children in uniform are walking on the road. Rapidly three boys stand next to our table and we ask them if they like something too. We have three rolls left so that is very opportune. But at that moment another three children show up so we cut the rolls in half. There is enough cheese left and so we sit here and have lunch with six perfectly strange children. These children also speak very good English.

They tell us that they only have school in the mornings. This morning they had, "darn" sums and we may look into their exercise book. They have to walk two miles between school and home. In the afternoon they have to help their mom, they tell us. We ask them what kind of work that is. Perhaps cooking? From their reaction we perceive that that is an odd supposition. No, they have to carry water of course! We express our admiration over the fact that they can carry such a heave water container on their head. "Yes", says a boy: "that is way we stay so short."

We split a bag of potato chips with flippo. And no arguing about who has to get the flippo. They are very neat raised children.
We feel as truly spoiled white tourists if we, without giving it a thought, try to throw our last slice of cheese in the garbage bin. From six throats sounds loud protesting. Even the last drops of fruit-juice are not allowed to vanish in the garbage bin.

After lunch they want to drive along in our car. Well, all right. Suddenly more children appear. Finally nine of them crawl into our car. One has to stay behind because he cannot possibly fit in anymore. On the passenger seat are three children and on the back seat the seven of us are on top of the other. I fear for our belongings, but they carefully pick everything op that is in the way and give it to us.
They say they like to hear music and so loud REM music sounds through the car. One boy says that he is so happy that he could have danced if he hadn't sit so tight. At two neighboring villages we drop the kids off and they thank us ten times.

Later we realize ourselves that we don't need a lot of our camping gear anymore. Normally we leave that in the last hotel room, but now we can slap ourselves that we didn't think of giving it away to the children. If it weren't that far we would have gone back.
South of the cattle fence is white country and they have enough themselves.

We stay the night at the Hamburgerhof Hotel in Otjiwarango. It is a terribly boring town. We buy a newspaper in which the story from Kees is being confirmed. Last Wednesday three women stepped on a landmine when they were on their way to the river. It is so brutal. At night the rebels place landmines between the village and their so much needed water source, the river. The next morning when people have to go for water or do their laundry they step on a landmine.

Next: Via Düsternbrook Guest Farm to Windhoek