Sunday, November 21, 2010

Luderitz's Secret Side

The Journey Begins
You could see the heat. See it in the parched leaves of the trees we passed, see it in the thirsty brown grass burnt into sand and in the way the end of the road merged with the horizon in a myriad of fantastic colours. The drive from Windhoek to Luderitz was incredible. 8 hours on an almost completely straight road, the Namib Desert whirled past the window as we sliced through sand rock and scrub land for 900km towards Luderitz. The sheer size of open space around us was incredible. Claustrophobic in its vastness. As we neared Luderitz the wind picked up and the temperature outside plummeted. After a year of fundraising, months of preparation and week of waiting in Windhoek, Nambia's capital, our journey to Luderitz was drawing to a close but the real journey was only just beginning.

 Windhoek to Luderitz 7th September

Luderitz is a small harbour town in the South West of Namibia nestled along the Skeleton Coast. Although English is the National language, Afrikaans and Oshiwambo are still widely spoken in Luderitz, and the need for English language teachers is significant. The town is famous for its windy shores and unpredictable weather, the day we arrived (the 7th August) was a chilly misty day, making the heat of Windhoek feel like a whole other country. It is here in this small windy Namibian town where I have chosen to spend my year away from home. I remember that first day clearly, feeling nervous and a little unsure, questions running through my head: am I doing the right thing? What will the next year bring? - Will I be any good at it? And where the hell is the frigging sun?!?


The Sun Rises on Luderitz

Stepping into Luderitz is a bit like stepping back in time, colonial architecture covered with brightly peeling paint – shabby but charming – and the sandy streets next to a glittering blue sea. Everyone’s been telling us that: “you cry twice when you come to Luderitz, once when you arrive and once when you leave!!” I can certainly see why this is true.

 When the wind blows it really blows! The sand is whipped up from the pavements right into your eyes, you have to where sunglasses in all weather! And some days like the day we arrived, mist descends on the place so thick you can barely see the street lamps outside the windows, and with the disused power station (the biggest building in Namibia) looming outside our window, it can feel like a ghost town at times.

 But be patient, because just occasionally the wind dies down, the sun comes out and the whole town breathes again.  
Ufer Strasse



Luderitz's Secret Side
Luderitz’s bright colourful buildings conceal a secret. To the unsuspecting tourist, The High Street and smart Waterfront is the extent of the town. As they stroll up and down browsing the shops, stopping for a cool drink by the sea front they might wonder; if this is it? They snap a couple of photos of the pretty boats bobbing up and down before continuing on their way, ticking Luderitz off the list. Done.
            But there is so much more to Luderitz, a hidden dimension of poverty and beauty that is neglected by the tour guides and information leaflets. 

Open the door and take a look. 

Hiding behind the dunes, a settlement of cardboard and corrugated iron ramshackle dwellings, street side stalls and schools make up Benguela town ship. Although no one is Luderitz is rich, Benguela is home to the poorest inhabitants of town. In Luderitz 1 in every 4 people has Aids, this shocking demographic is largely concentrated in Benguela where drugs, prostitution and crime perpetual each other.
Benguela is also a place of incredible colour and sounds, people and life. On the 40 minute walk back from Valombola Creche (the pre-primary school we work at on the far side of Benguela) we pass brightly painted Car Washes stands, fruit stalls with juicy oranges for a dollar, people call hello when you have already walked 10 metres past them. A hairdresser advertises a haircut of the week, always identical to one publicized the week before. Women in flowing handmade dresses sway past with the weeks supply of potatoes for the family precariously balanced on their head. A lady sells delicious fried fish and fat cakes wrapped up in newspaper for two dollars at the market. Stop and say hello, unwrap the paper, smell the sizzling fat, bite into the steaming fish, feel the grease drip down your chin, clean your fingers on the sand – don’t have another for 3 weeks for fear of blocking up your arteries! Life is pulsing here, people and sounds fill the streets, women calling to each other over tin cooking pots and red plastic washing bowls, children running carefree over the broken glass in bare feet.
            But within this collage of life is a darker side. The potatoes are brought back from town only on payday, overly dressed up teenage girls teeter out of run down shacks in heels and too much make up, a woman lurches out of Simons bar after a morning on the lash, stray dogs with swollen pregnant bellies litter the sandy pavements and you realise, those children playing in bare feet should be at school.
            It is always easy to find a dark side, to dramatise the defects and problems of a place like this or reduce it to facts and gory statistics. But Benguela’s beauty lies in both its dark and light, behind the demographics you'll find the honesty of real life, real people. It may be hidden from the town centre but once found, it reveals all and there is so much more to see than statistics. The cracks and imperfections on display in all their glory. This right here, is Africa.

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