I don’t know how to start. This is not a topic I talk about normally. Love. A big word. So many stories have been written about it. So many tears ran down on cheeks. And so many people fail. Fail because they want too much. Yes it is definitely not my topic. I hate talking about my feelings. About my emotions about someone. Uhm no. You won’t get an answer. And the word love? Not in my vocabulary. Well I’ll use it, but in a different context. I love this country. I love the desert. Sand. The ocean. I love sandboarding. Skydiving. Rock climbing. I love action. And I love Zak. The dog who healed me from being scared of dogs. But that’s how far my conversations about love go. I love Spitzkoppe.
So why did I choose to talk about it now? Well I think I owe you that. I am honest on my blog. I talk about my emotions. How I feel when I climb a mountain, jump out of an airplane, sleep under the stars or play in the riverbed. I try to be as authentic as possible by just writing down whatever goes through my mind in that moment. And because of that I write this article. Because I want to tell you a bit about the part of my african puzzle which you’ve been missing so far…
I know him since the very beginning of my stay in Swakop. He is in my group of friends with whom I do all the trips together. So yes he was there from the beginning. But I did not have eyes for him. My focus was on the country. The stunning scenery. Experience this new lifestyle. I did not have space for feelings. How many of my friends and family members back home in Germany have told me „you’ll come back with an african husband“. And how many times have I laughed about it. Haha really? Not me! Definitely not!
But my time in Africa changed me a lot. I am way more relaxed than I was before. I do things I would have never had the courage before to even think about it. I learned that skydiving is a sport. You can have muscle pain from it. Serious muscle pain! And I learned that I should give this african burki a chance. He was fighting hard for that european woman who was as independent as never before at that stage. And yes that makes this relationship interesting. It is a challenge to combine two total different cultures with each other. An independent woman, who just travelled through half of africa alone and thinks noone can hurt her and on the other side that afrikaans guy who grew up on a farm in Namibia and in whose culture the men’s task in a relationship is to protect the woman. Yeah that does not sound like this would work. But I can tell you it does! You will say it is too early to say that since we are only working on it since a bit more than half a year, but I can tell you I learned a lot! If you learn seeing the positive things in life it makes you way more happy. For example I learned to sleep in wild nature between elephant excretions, cat tracks and scorpions without worrying about these wild animals in my surrounding. He is there to protect me. He is the one lifting the matress to check if there is a scorpion underneath. He is one telling me which animal left which tracks next to us and the one telling me where I cannot put my matress down because of whatever reason. Well not sure what he is actually going to do if the elephant stands in front of me, but it is enough for my mind to fall asleep just know that he is there. And the other way around? That is difficult to answer it from my side, because he might see it different. But I see the advantage for him in me being independent that I can take care for myself. Walk home at night would be one thing I mention. But this is actually one of our fighting points. Because he doesn’t like it if I do it, because it is dangerous out there. Says the one who is jumping out of airplanes for living. You see? It all balances itself somehow.
But why did I start talking about this again? Oh yes, because cultures are coming together. I learned a lot through him about the afrikaans culture. His family shows me what an amazing culture it is and that woman as well in this culture developed into the modern world. The women in this family have their man under control. They know what they want. And they tell me not to accept everything. Another moment to laugh for me. Don’t worry, I am still the same Anne. It is not that easy to bring me down.
One thing I really love about the afrikaans culture is their dancing culture. I struggled in the beginning to get their rhythm into my steps but a patient teacher helped me to get respect from the other family members for my dancing. I love dancing. I am sad about the fact that it kind of disappeared in the european culture.
And now it is my turn. My turn to show him my country. To bring him into my german romanian culture. Yes I am flying home. With him. Well kind of. We are not on the same flight. Sounds weird but that goes onto my account. I booked this flight ticket in december. At that time he planned already to come with, but I lost my patience. In the end you won’t book that ticket anyway. Yes I didn’t believe that he would actually come. That’s why I booked my ticket. Because I would definitely fly to Germany in february to do my snowboard licence instructor. Independent from if he is coming with or not. Yes that is one thing I am fighting in this country. In Namibia. About the words which are spoken and about the actions which come out of it. Two total different things. The namibians can talk a lot, have a million ideas how this or that can work. But when it comes to actually start something noone is there. That’s why I never believed that he would actually fly with. And that’s why he is now on a flight a day behind me. Because it was the cheapest flight he could book. Yes when I realised that he really wants to come I did help him with the visa. I organised half of the papers for him and kicked his a** to get the rest in time. I am sitting in the ICE from Frankfurt to Stuttgart and even myself is a bit overwhelmed? Confused? Not sure how to describe my feelings. I was lost at Frankfurt airport. Too big. Too many people. Too many running people around me. Too cold. Yes I haven’t been home for over a year. I’ve lived in the desert for an entire year with only short break in October when I fly to Cape Town for a couple of days. A year is long. My head is moving right and left. Looking around like a child seeing the first time the ocean. Germans chasing me off my seat because apparently it is their seat. Isn’t this a train? How can you own a seat? And secondly there are so many others. Just take another seat. Nummer 42 ist mein Sitz. Ok, I get it. I’ll just sit on the seat which is free.
I miss Zak. Already. Last week he was playing cards with Tiara and me. In my room. Yes he is actually not allowed in there. But he behaved so well when I showered him. He hates showers. More than anything else. But he needed a shower. So he got one.
And then he was allowed to play cards with us. Because he is such a happy dog. As soon as I dried him with a towel he forgot how I just tortured him with the garden pipe and started playing with the towel and me. He is the happiness. He is always excited. Unless Beth and I are leaving in the same time the house and are not taking him with. But he forgives us. Every time when we open the gate he runs towards us. Happy dog. He makes everyone happy.
We did on thursday a last overnight trip. To the Ugab. See a bit of water flowing. The country is getting quiet a bit of rain through that cyclone which is hitting us from the east, but Namibia still needs a lot of water to get out of this draught.
While my friends in Namibia are going on a trip in search of more water I am sitting a last time in the back of a Bakki on the road before I will have to sit upright in cars and having a seat belt around me. Dawie’s parents are driving us to Windhoek. We get to see as well a bit of green landscape.
I am enjoying my last day barefoot. I love walking barefoot. I feel free if I feel the earth. The sand. And right now the wet pavement in Windhoek. Just after a short summer rain. Feels amazing. The people around me walking in high heels and whatever different shoes. I just wanna be barefoot before I will have to walk in shoes for a month. I go through security barefoot. Dawie laughs at me. You’re travelling like the africans. Plastic bag in your hand. I don’t care. There are my clothes in it which I will have to put on in Frankfurt not to freeze to death. And beside travelling with a plastic bag in my hand I showed more african attitudes. Condor gave us blankets on the plane. Is that like for take? I packed it in my plastic bag so that I will have it for later on the train. And then at the airport, something like that would never work in Africa. Someone advertising their company and giving free items away. Here in Frankfurt noone is interested. Beside the african girl. I got 2 shampoos from Rossman for free. Score!
And now let’s go home. It’s coooooold!