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.