Etosha Road Trip

I'm not sure what I can write about Etosha National Park that other blogs and travel sites haven't already written. The place is simply amazing, there's tons of animals, and tons of driving. As part of Mark's celebratory forty-first, we drove north to Etosha for the weekend, stopping outside the park to sleep at Ohange Game lodge, located ninety minutes southeast of the Von Lindquist (east) entrance of the park. We ate outside under the stars and enjoyed sleeping in orange chalets.

Following that, we spent two nights experiencing what Namibian Wildlife Resorts (NWR) were like inside the park. The NWR company has monopoly on all national parks in Namibia, so you don't have much of choice. They aren't my favorite company because they sacrifice customer service in exchange for proximity. 

Our first night was spent at Onkoshi, perched on the edge of the pan with the lodge and chalets built on stilts. Walking on the suspended boardwalk, it was like we were waiting for high tide to come in. Supplied with a single fan for the room, I worried we would all roast and sweat together, as the temperature that day rose to over 90 F. Thankfully, as soon as the sun went down, so did the temperature, well below 40 F. Interestingly, with all of the dust kicked into the air, the sun and moon sets are gorgeous but without lingering moments of romance. They just set and that's it: they are literally done and dusted. 

On the second night, we stayed at Namutoni in a family room that had side by side shower heads in the recessed bathtub. What seemed like a fun idea of taking a family shower (I'm totally joking. I think...) turned sour when one shower head fell off revealing tatters of saran wrap that was stuffed inside the pipe. At least we had air conditioning and a mini fridge to chill the remaining two beers of our trip. 

In between lodge stays, we were on the road, driving from watering hole to watering hole on an obsessed mission to see elephants and cats. A lot of the animal sightings depend on being in the right place at the right time, so Mark and Margo got luck with a leopard sighting after I successfully whined my way to be dropped off at the lodge. Our friends enjoyed teems of lions at one watering hole, and others got to see cheetahs. It was hard not to be jealous, but I did take solace that we finally got to see more elephants than we could handle, some of which we could smell their breath they were so close. In case you were wondering, they smell bad. 

As a last hurrah in Etosha, Mark elected to drive west out of the park which added on two hours of driving. But we were both keen to see the lesser frequented area, and saw basically nothing. It was the kind of nothing that makes one irritated and grumpy after being on the east side and inundated with wildlife. We blew past anything that wasn't feline, thinking that maybe we'd been in Namibia too long when giraffes or oryx were no longer exciting. Then we saw elephants mating in the bushes, so that helped. The kids logically followed up with "how are babies made?" and immediately regretted asking me that question. 

Ohange Lodge

Kudu

Literally surrounded by wild animals and she's reading a book. 

Onkoshi

Onkoshi

Moon set. 

On the edge of the pan at Onkoshi. 

Among the acacia thorns.

We couldn't' figure out if he was truly stuck or just resting his big head.
After 15 minutes, he extricated himself with moderate struggling. 

Watering hole at Namutoni.

Banded meerkcats at Namutoni.

Black rhino sighting early in the morning. 

Greater Kestrel. 

Emily Goes to Court

This sounds like a brag, but I am friends with one of the Namibian Supreme Court Justices. He and I met several months ago in a writing group that was started by a Fulbright Fellow who taught  at the University of Namibia this past year. Though the fellow has since left the country, the group has managed to stay together much to my pleasure, meeting every couple of weeks to share our stories. One of them introduced themselves as a lawyer. 

Then I came to find out that he wasn't just any lawyer, but a human rights one. Oh- and by the way: a Supreme Court Justice. The words that flow onto his paper tell stories of his clients who were involved in the resistance during Apartheid. They were tortured. Abused. Thrown in jail while he was shunned by family and friends. He was threatened - and not the banal, fist shaking kind of threats.  For years he fought for the underrepresented, winning cases by arguing against the laws that protected no one except the elite. He did was what necessary: sneaking in cameras to gather evidence. He met with clients in the dead of night and under excruciating environmental conditions and surveillance of the police who had all the power. 

He's the kind of guy to think about when you are having a bad day.  He's the kind of guy whose name is David but goes by Dave. He's passionate, humble, damn smart, and kind. I hope that some day  his own story is told. There just aren't enough Daves in this word. 

Last week Dave set me up on a tour of his workplace. We met his law assistant Kema, a lawyer also dedicated to human rights.  She walked us around the monolithic building that was built on a hill facing the center of downtown. Its visionaries chose a Moroccan Riad theme to set it apart from existing German colonial styles around the city: a spacious white courtyard in the middle surrounded by two stories of public, semi-private, and private offices that would oversee the law of the land. Long, rectangular pillared corridors flank the main entrance as if they were embracing the city. They used simple square windows to encourage air passage, and angled vents to reflect the sun away from the interior. The entrance has the judicial articles of the Namibian Constitution etched into the granite. Though the building is imposing and slightly terrifying to walk into, it is open to the public. Anyone can attend court hearings or visit the reading room provided you check in with security. 

Inside, the two courtrooms A & B are bright white with an accent wall at the back center where the Justices sit. The boxy red and pink granite stone from Karibib (a small town west of Windhoek) pay homage to Spitzkoppe, a 120 million year old mountain that rises out of nowhere in the Namib Desert. I sat in the Chief Justice chair and immediately slid off the polished leather. It took a considerable amount of effort to stay put, it was so poofy. I wondered if that was done purpose. To remind the judges of the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

We passed through the reading room and entered the library which houses hundreds of thousands of newspapers and books. Some of them were from the 1600's, covered in stiff animal hide. A few had broken spines, exposing the painstaking detail of an individual who hand-sewed the pages together. There were law books in English, Afrikaans, German, Italian, Dutch, and Latin. Seeing a sack of brown sugar forgotten on a chair made the place feel a bit more human. 

As part of the grand finale, we were introduced to Dave who stood in his office that was lined with hundreds of more books, some still in boxes from transporting them to his home office, his preferred place of work. Dave walked us through the prestigious judge's entrance into the courtroom and answered questions about cases he'd tried and cases he'd judged. He spoke candidly about his career and the perilous paths it took him. 

Finally, he walked us outside where he shared details about the plants and trees that were planted outside of the building. Dave is 100% Namibian with a huge admiration for horticulture. Most plants are protected because of their uniqueness and important roles in water conservation. For example, the shepherd's tree taproots can extend as deep as 68 meters below the surface. It's a hearty caper family tree whose berries are a key source of nutrition for animals and humans. Plus they can be roasted as a coffee bean substitute. 

At any rate, I am thrilled that he took the time to show us around. The court definitely felt less intimidating afterward. But then again, I wasn't (and hopefully never will be) on trial. Then I think this place would be terrifying all over again. 

Supreme Court of Namibia:
built in 1997. No buildings are
allowed to block the front. 

Courtroom A. 

There's always 3 judges, and sometimes 5.
The acoustics in the room require that presenting lawyers
speak clearly and loudly whereas everyone can hear a pin drop from the bench. 

Fine tuning their book return system.

Books dating back as early as 1664.

Supreme Court Justice Office

Supreme Court Justice Office.
 The Justices are just like real people.

Memorial gardens.

Supreme Court Justice Dave Smuts
 talking about one of the acacia tree variations,
intentionally planted to stay consistent with Namibian landscape. 

The woman who is going to change it all: Kema.