Do you come here orphan?

The official Namibian Government definition of an orphan or vulnerable child is any child whose mother, father, both parents - or primary care giver - has died, and is in need of protection.

Why is there a need for an official Namibian Government definition of an orphan or vulnerable child? Because there are so many of them.

Why are there so many orphans in Namibia? Death! It's still the number one killer.

And why are so many parents dying? Car accidents, cancers, malaria and tuberculosis account for a large number of these deaths, but since 1995, the major cause of death in Namibia has been HIV and AIDS.

Based on the current rates of infection and death, a child born in Namibia today has more than a one in three chance of being orphaned before reaching adulthood.

The relationship between HIV and poverty is remarkably close - each contributes to the other, thereby worsening the situation for those affected. It is a tragedy of escalating proportions and it is the children affected by HIV and AIDS (note how I said "affected" not necessarily "infected") who suffer from mulitple losses, These children need access to food, security, education, social services and psycho-social support. 

Sure, there are some (remarkably few) posters and advertisements advocating safe sex practices, but they are all in what has been the official unifying language since independence 22 years ago: English. The problem is that only 7% of the population is able to speak, let alone read, English. I have seen free condoms available in the post office and the library ( great for those with enough literacy skills to warrant visiting a post office or library), but not elsewhere. More people are going to get the message from the signs leading to and from the refuse tips which read: "Double Tarp Your Load". That's what some resourceful Namibians have begun doing. They...double tarp their load. (similarly to the Irish ...to be sure, to be sure)

Anyway, lots of orphans means lots of orphanges.

We volunteered to help restore a derelict playground in one orphanage:

 

...thereby making it probably one of the most lethal playgrounds I have ever seen...

and after visitng the Tears of Hope Orphanage in the township of Mondesa on the outskirts of Swakopmund, I befriended the Herero woman, Naftaline, who cares for 15-20 orphans or vulnerable children.

I have become a bit of a regular visitor to Tears of Hope - organising craft activities and reading sessions and generally helping out in the vague hope that I would get to cuddle some of the babies (not in a "pervy-creepy" kind of way...more like in a "I'm-a-mother-of-a-much-loved-but-only-child-and-my-biological-clock-ticking-so-loudly-I-can-hardly-hear-myself-think", clucky  kind of way).

My friend and I were even invited by Naftaline to a ceremony whereby a new local Safety House was presented with some much needed funding. 

My friend and I came to a conclusion that an school holiday outing was deserved/needed/desired. There was overwhelming in-house support for our choice of: The Beach!

We organised the necessary transport to allow the entire orphanage to come the beach for the day. Naftaline was the first one in the bus. She probably deserved the outing more than anyone else.

 For some of the children, it was their first time touching the sea (cue squeals of delight). 

They ran...

...they played...

...they ate the mountain of food we brought...

(no photo available - it all disappeared so quickly)

....they built...sandcastles...

...and friendships

...and they taught a few tricks.

The sun shone, the mist stayed away, the sea breeze blew the "eau de swakop" away. It was a truly beautiful day. Dolphins even did a swim-by just before the sun set.

After one of my visits to Tears of Hope, Naftaline mentioned that she had to go to a funeral. She had someone organised to come and look after the older children for the weekend, but she was going to have to take the littlies with her. I wondered (aloud) what I could do to help. Very quickly, Naftaline asked whether I could take a littlie home for the weekend. Really?? I asked my 6 y/o what he thought and he agreed that it was a fabluous idea. We got to take home this precious bundle of joy for the weekend.

She was so quiet and bright and loving and polite (I could tell she was being polite even though she didn't speak English). She chose her own new clothes when I took her shopping and when we got home, she took off her "old" clothes (which she folded neatly - I pointed out to my 6 y/o!!) and insisted on trying on all of her "new" clothes. I think what she seemed to enjoy the most was having a bath all to herself for as long as she wanted it.

She became one of the family for the weekend...

But only for the weekend.

Adoption laws here are very strict. I'm...too...ah hem...old, apparently.

Greenery Improves the Scenery

Climbing to the top of a sand dune, I am very happy to have my ever-present water bottle with me. I am parched. It is hot and dry at the top of the dune.

But not always. In the dead of night, while the temperatures plummet, moisture can lace the air in the form of fog. Insects position themselves (head down, bum up) with their legs in the air to try to collect the moisture from the fog. The droplets of fog-water run down their legs and into their mouths. Me, well I've got my water bottle.

There is a lot of sand in Namibia. There is so much sand here that I almost qualified for dud parent of the year after I "lost" my son in some dunes for half an hour (it's ok, he walked his way to safety while I was frantically searching and fruitlessley calling)

So, what makes the difference between

this...

...and this,

between this...

 ...and this,

between this...

...and this,

between this...

...and this,

between this...

...and this,

between this...

...and this

?

The difference is water.

The trouble is, there's not much here.



Situated at the southern edge of the tropics - the Tropic of Capricorn more or less cuts the country in half - Namibia has more than 300 days of sunshine per year. The winter (June – August) is generally dry. Both rainy seasons occur in summer, a small rainy season between September and November, a bigger one between February and April. Humidity is low, and average rainfall varies from almost zero in the coastal desert, where I am staying, to more than 600 mm in the northern regions. Rainfall is highly variable, and droughts are common. I have not seen any rain at all since I arrived 5 weeks ago.
An added problem with Namibia's water supply is the presence of mining. Mining for diamonds, uranium, copper, lead, zinc, magnesium, cadmium, arsenic, pyrites, sliver and gold, lithium minerals, dimension stones and semi precious stones all requires water.

So, from where does the water come?

There are a few perennial rivers but most are ephemeral rivers, so they are unreliable sources. Recently, desalination plants have begun to spring up to make the most of Namibia's large coastline.  Also, the mining companies are now highly discouraged from using precious river water for their needs - they have begun to use the plentiful desalinated water, leaving the river water for human consumption.

So there is enough water for the current population at present (even if a lot of it tastes terribly salty - that's the water that tastes salty...not the population. Mind you...). But there is not enough to turn a desert into an oasis. What's the solution?

The answer is...poo! That's right, poo. And wee and all manner of effluent. There is a need to process all the towns' sewage and there is a desire to make all the towns look pretty. Clever, eh? Why not use the poo to beautify the towns?

I can suggest why not. The stench!

The sprinklers are set in all public areas to sprinkle poo water 24 hours /day. Councils employ hundreds of otherwise unemployed people to move the sprinklers around a bit so as to avoid waterlogging (or is that "poo-logging"?) any one area. I never know if I should warn canoodling couples on grassy lawns that they are reclining on poo soaked lawns, or let them figure it out for themselves ("Oh, dear, was that was you." "No, I thought it was YOU") or sit back and enjoy the spectacle of the sprinkler being moved closer and inundating them with poo water.

There is a definite odour to Swakopmund and Walvis Bay that permeates everything. Eau de Swakop. Reminiscent (for those like myself old enough to remember them) of post cracker night air. Heavily sulphurific. The other mingling wafts in the poo water are strange/unfamiliar to me (and believe me, I'm no stranger to...wafts). I feel they are a result of the diet here that is heavy on the meat and game and light on the fruit and vegetables.

My husband assures me that I will get used to it. Oh goody.

Below the Belt

About half the population of Namibia live below the international poverty line (U.S.$1.25 a day).

About half of the population depends on agriculture for its livelihood.

About 4000, mostly white, farmers own the majorty of arable land.

Ipso facto (I've always wanted a good excuse to use "ipso facto"):

Namibia has one of the highest rates of income inequality in the world.

These are all facts. You can look them up. I don't have to look them up. I can see it all around me here in Namibia.

The difference between the "haves" and the "have nots" is stark.

A swanky hotel in Swakopmund (originally a hospital).

Not so swanky shops and houses  in Mondesa - a shanty town on the outskirts of Swakopmund

But change is afoot.

There are a number of legislative measures in place to alleviate poverty and unemployment. There is a real effort by the goverment and by private enterprise to create jobs. For example: teams of petrol station driveway attendants (as mentioned in "first impressions"); car-guards (yes, they guard cars. Each car-guard is given a council uniform and an area to guard and, while there is no obligation to pay them anything, it really doesn't cost a great deal to ensure that your car is still there when you return to it); and sand sweepers (the only thing that stops the towns being deserts is the sand - hence the sand sweepers). 

Within the last decade, legislation was passed to protect people from job discrimination stemming from pregnancy and HIV/AIDS status. Also, now 100 per cent of all unskilled and semi-skilled labour must be sourced, without exception, from within Namibia.

The film that brought us here to Namibia is responsible for employing many unskilled and semi-skilled Namibians who were otherwise unemployed - and there is a real chance that those employed by the film will gain valuable experience and some useful skills. Each of the Australian employees are also expected to employ a domestic cleaner. So yes, I am experiencing the luxury of having a cleaner - mind you, I always have the place tidy and clean so that it's never too much hard work for our Katerina...she subsequently seeks out extra chores to fill her day. She irons our clothes (I can't remember the last time I ironed anything other than my uniform in Australia) and I fear that my husband is rather enjoying the crispness of ironed shirts and sheets. I definitely put my foot down when I caught Katerina ironing his underwear!

Several overseas goverments have promised to finance Namibia's land reform process, as Namibia plans to start expropriating land from white farmers to resettle landless black Namibians.

Mondesa is situated on the outskirts of the seaside township of Swakopmund. Mondesa, and neighbouring DRC are shanty towns, populated entirely by black Namibians. Many of the people who live in Mondesa have come from remote areas of Namibia seeking employment. Some have found employment. Many have not.

This series of photographs shows some of the contrasts of living in and around the same town - Swakopmund.

 (I sought and was granted permission to photograph and publish all the photographs of people that I have taken)

The roads in Mondesa are made of salt. Slippery when wet, yes. But rarely ever wet.

The lack of cars makes playing on the roads an inevitability. 

These marketeers, setting up for another day of haggling, live in Mondesa but store their goods in large containers near the market venue near the seaside so that they don't have to transport their goods back and forth each day. Few, if any, own cars and there is no public transport here at all.

"Tears of Hope" is an orphanage run by a Herero woman who relies solely on donations to continue her work. There are up to 20 children living here at any one time.

I have donated both money AND time to the orphanage.

A nice buildng in Swakopmund.

No so nice buildings in Mondesa. Children running to see the white person.

Invited to dine with a family in Mondesa, we were served (clockwise from centre) Mopane Worms, fried dumplings, ground beans and a sort of polenta bread. Yum!

Houses in Mondesa

Mondesa child

A Mondesa Daycare centre

Another daycare centre - complete with razor wire!

So close...and yet so far. The other end of the same town. Swakopmund.