I love driving, and even more, I love driving fast! In fact, back in the states, the only things I hate about driving are traffic and that the high cost of a speeding prevents me from cruising at my desired speed.
After renting our Toyota Yaris in South Africa, it never occured to me that I might be able to cut loose on the open road. You see, all over Cape Town there are signs warning of speed cameras ahead. Although I never actually saw one of the alleged speed cameras, it was enough of a deterant to keep me driving just more than a few kph over the speed limit.
Then we crossed the border… I had read in the Namibia guidebook that speeding tickets cost only $1 per km over the limit, which meant at a absolute maximum (given the Yaris’ performance) we’d be looking at a fine of ~$70. Combining that with the roughly 0.1% chance of actually seeing speed checkpoint (based on conversations with people who had driven through Namibia), I felt comfortable going whatever speed I wanted.
The first few hours were on an open paved road quite far from wildlife, so I could literally floor the gas pedal and go as fast as the car allowed. What an incredible feeling! Driving without constantly monitoring the speedometer is how it should always be. In fact, not worrying about my speed or police down the road made me even more aware of the road conditions and my surroudings.
About 10 days later, we arrived in Etosha National Park, where at the main building they had the recently revised speeding fines posted. Evidently the $80 ticket from before the guidebook was written now cost over $500 plus a court visit. I guess I was quite lucky we hadn’t been pulled over yet. Despite that we never once saw a police vehicle for the rest of the trip, we kept ourselves to a more reasonable speed.
I’ll never forget how enjoyable driving is when you don’t have to worry about your speed. Looks like I’ll have to wait until I’m on the autobahn in Germany to enjoy it that much again!
I will remember Candy for the rest of my life. Not for what he looks like or what his occupation is, but for the we way he opened his heart and home to us along our journey through Namibia. We first met Candy across the road from his homestead under a large tree shadowing the village bottle shop. We introduced ourselves, chatted for a bit and then Candy pointed us in the direction of his homestead. We drove our little Yaris across the street and into the fenced in area which to my surprise housed five small mud huts. The huts used few branches to frame the outside of the mud packed walls. The mud had began crumbling in some areas creating holes in the walls large enough for a hyena to sneak through. Candy is 22 and attending 10th grade this year (we we’re introduced to him by his teacher Kerri, with whom we happened to be Couchsurfing the night before). His younger sister also attends a local school approximately 3km away from their land. Candy’s brother and grandmother are both unemployed so the only way they make money is when Candy’s Aunt sells milk from her cows and shares the proceeds. Candy was born and raised on this homestead and now lives there occupying one hut, while his sister, his brother, and his grandmother occupy the other three. The fifth hut has been empty since his uncle passed. There is a small, low grass-thatched hut situated between two of the mud huts where a fire was still smoldering.
Candy began to paint us the picture of his village life immediately. We first joined him to go and collect fresh water from the clinic 5km away. There were two fresh water spouts in his village for its entire population, neither one being extremely close to his homestead. Usually, he would walk there with two large empty containers, fill them up, and carry them back… 5km away!
Once we filled the water and returned it back to the homestead we set out on foot where Candy showed us around his village. He took us to one of the infamous cooka shops where the villagers produce a grainy, tart, traditional alcoholic beverage. Candy mentioned it’s a very popular place to hang out during the day for for the high percentage of people not working (it gives them something to do during the day). Candy then showed us the small convenience store that villagers visit whenever they have money, which is sporadic and infrequent. Until then, they try to survive with the little they have.
That night for dinner, Candy taught us how to make mahango porridge over the fire which he prepares and eats every day, three times a day. Usually, he will include a soup mix or a local relish from the bush to dip the porridge in. We all sat around the fire and enjoyed the small meal with him. Afterwards, we sat idly around the fire (still somewhat hungry) on disintegrating cinder blocks and old paint cans chatting about village life and answering Candy’s constant questions about the US. Chris began showing him pictures of the US, our families, etc and he was in complete awe. I could not tell if he was more impressed with the photos or the iPhone we used to show him.
The next morning, we all indulged in more porridge and said our goodbyes. Candy thanked us several times for sharing his meal with him and allowing him to share with us his village lifestyle. He was so proud to share his customs, his homestead and the village life. Upon driving away from his homestead, I remember looking back and being humbled by the experience. Those who say the village life is so simple overlooks several key factors. Their agendas may not be filled with breakfast meetings, running errands, soccer practice, and vacations, but they are focused on the hard work of day to day living. He appreciates the laid back lifestyle of showing his guests around, chatting with his friends, living off the land, and attending to the chores of his homestead. It surprised me with how long it took us to do basic stuff such as retrieving clean water. I’ve never in my life appreciated the things we take for granted (running water, electricity, and plentiful foods) so much. THANK YOU CANDY FOR THE AMAZING EXPERIENCE!
We were driving between the Skeleton Coast and Kamanjab when we drove through a small little village carved into the edge of a rocky hill along the dust covered dirt road. It always interests me in whitnessing other’s lifesyles, ways of transportation, careers, and education so I stared out the window intently hoping this villiage would be able to provide some insight for me as to what it’s like as we passed by. The first sight I experienced will be blazed into my mind forever. We had come to a T in the unmanaged dusty dirt road with a sign giving directions to two towns. Under the sign were a group of boys no older than ten years old. As we had stopped in front of the sign, three of the boys began running towards our car, barely clothed, minimal meat on their small set frame, and no shoes on their feet rubbing their bellies asking for food. They chased after our car, sprinting along with their small bare feet on the rocky unpaved roads asking for food. The pain in their eyes was unbearable. It was heartwrenching. I wanted to stop and cradle them in my arms. I wanted to stop and give them a hearty meal. I wanted to stop and give them money. I wanted to stop, hug them and tell them everything would be okay. I wanted to stop and understand their pain. But stopping wasn’t an option for us. Our gas gauge had been running on empty half way up the Skeleton Coast and the last thing we could do is stop and get stranded in a place with no fuel stations, much less cars. As we drove further through the small town, I peered out the window to see extremely small houses… no, extremely small outhouse-sized shacks in which a whole family lived in. The goats and cows roamed freely and the best mode of transportation I saw was a man with his two sons riding a half broken down wagon pulled by a donkey. There were no signs of work, therefore there were no signs of making money to live. There was no farming to provide food because the land was too dusty, dry and hot. There were men, women and children alike sitting along side the road. Some of them were sitting in the dirt, some of them were standing peering out with lifeless eyes. There was a family trying to hitch a ride to the next closest town. It made me wonder what it was that had them needing to go to the other town. There was a small school burried between the village’s living areas. The school was tiny and didn’t look adequate enough to house and educate the children and people of its community. Where did the teachers learn the information to share with their students? So many questions ran through my mind as something dawned on me. These people are living on land that is not suitable for farming, not large enough to bring in revenue, not easily accessible to bring in goods and people, and not connected enough to make people aware of their issues. Meanwhile, I was concerned about running out of fuel to make it to the next town?!?!? My mindset changed in an instant. I was instantly happy to have an adequate roof over my head, shoes on my feet, food in my belly, and a family who has raised me and given me everything I’ve ever needed to be successful. It was then that I promised myself to be more flexible, more understanding, more positive and most of all more gracious for the people and things that I have been given in life.
As you might know, Amy and I, along with 2 guys from Sweden, rented a car in South Africa to drive through Namibia and Botswana. After replacing two tires (or tyres as they say here…), denting the frame and knocking some plastic parts off the undercarriage, we’ve learned a few lessons we wanted to pass on to you:
All Foreign Driving
If you’re driving on the opposite side of road for the first time in a few months, it REALLY helps to have a second person in the car to help remind you when you’re driving on the wrong side of the road (something all four of us have done at one point or another).
Carry a bag of zipties, they’ve been a lifesaver at keeping dangling car parts from falling off the car.
Depending on the country you’re in, fill up your gas tank as frequently as possible. We found in Namibia that its quite normal that you could drive 250 miles without ever seeing a gas station.
That's Our Toyota Yaris!
Foreign Car Rentals
In addition to checking the car for dents and scratches, ALWAYS check the inner and outer tread on ALL the tires. Our need to replace two tires in Namibia could have been completely avoiding had we looked carefully at our back tires before leaving and realized what poor condition they were in. Also, don’t forget to double check your spare tire.
If you will be driving ANYWHERE that doesn’t have well-kept tarred roads, get the best insurance coverage possible. It didn’t cost us more than US$2-3/day to have a $0 deductible and I assure you it was worth it…
Make sure you read the insurance coverage very thoroughly AND make a copy of it for your records. I’m currently writing this from the middle of Namibia where we know that we’ve banged up our Toyota Yaris quite a bit, but don’t have the paperwork to know if it’s going to actually cost us anything when we return the car.
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