It was midday, in the middle of nowhere specific, Northern Namibia. The temperature had reached the level that makes all living things halt physical activity to preserve energy. This silence bestowed the auditory illusion that heat can be heard. I felt like my skin was going to melt off. And silly me, since I had been going on so many game drives with little opportunity to use the bathroom, I hadn’t been drinking much water to save myself from suffering the urge to go for hours at a time. Not good. I had barely started moving and already felt lightheaded. How do people do this every day without air conditioning? This was Kunene, the most sparsely populated region of a country already low in people. A region whose lack of development has created a landscape that provides some of the most iconic images of the continent.
The indigenous of the region, the Himba, number only a few thousand, and have mastered the art of survival in such a harsh and unforgiving landscape. Their characteristic skin and hair, painted red with ochre, protect them from
the sun’s intense rays. Their semi-nomadic pastoral lifestyle intrigued me, and when given the opportunity to visit a local village, I took it, despite my body’s desperate plea for shade.
The tour through the Himba village lasted about an hour. We met with a group of women, and our tour guide explained their skin paste, their hair, and some of their social practices. He showed us how to greet and say thank you in their language and we were then given the opportunity to practice with them. I tried really hard to listen because it was interesting, but I was dizzy and lightheaded from the heat. After he was done talking, we were given some time to bargain with the women for some of their handicrafts. We also got to take pictures with them, provided we asked permission and showed them the photo afterward. Thankfully, the last part of our guided tour was shaded, inside a mud hut. Our guide showed us their tools, and a local woman came in and demonstrated how they make their perfume. The women of the Himba tribe don’t bathe, at least not with water. They “bathe” themselves with smoke and ash from burning herbs. She was sweet and friendly, despite not smiling in the picture she took with me.
I dragged my feet back to the truck, trying to remember the symptoms of heatstroke. Brain fuzziness? Is that one of them? I think I drank half a gallon of water as soon as I got back to the truck. However they manage to survive like this every day, I’m going to speculate that it probably starts with drinking enough water. Onward! Our next and final stop for the day was the Otjitotongwe Cheetah Sanctuary in nearby Kamanjab.
The Cheetah Sanctuary provides a safe habitat for tame and semi-wild cheetahs (most of them rescues) for breeding and hunting. The wild cheetah population has been losing prey and habitat, and because of these losses, many wild cheetahs hunt livestock. To protect their livestock, farmers in the area have been known to shoot the cheetahs. There are currently just over 7,000 of these large cats left in the wild that we know of, and at a population that low, there is some serious concern of inbreeding.
During our visit, we had a chance to get close and personal with three cheetahs that were rescued as very young babies. They were raised at the sanctuary by the owners, so were comfortable with people. Even so, large cats are still unpredictable, so we were given strict instructions not to approach a cheetah from the front and not to wear sunglasses. I was pretty excited, though admittedly nervous, about petting them. In some ways, they’re just like a house cat. They purr when happy, have scratchy tongues, and like to play. A perfect example of this playfulness, and unpredictability, was when one of the cheetahs (harmlessly) clamped its teeth around a young woman’s ankle. No one was hurt, and the cheetah let go
when admonished, but that moment was a healthy reminder that these were not domesticated felines. After petting time was feeding time. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I was disappointed that “feeding time” didn’t mean that we were going to watch a hunt. I guess you can’t really schedule a hunt. Besides, watching cheetahs take down and eat another animal would probably be too much for most people to stomach, myself included.
After playing around with tame cheetahs, we were loaded up into the back of two trucks and carted around the preserve for a game drive. I had already done four game drives in the previous three days, and on one of them I got to see a wild cheetah, so building enthusiasm was difficult. Especially while suffering the effects of dehydration in the desert. In retrospect, these sentiments seem silly. The game drive was great. We saw a lot of cheetahs, including babies. It was a great experience, from start to finish.
Once back at camp, I drank another half gallon of water. I don’t think I had used the bathroom all day. Not a good sign, I needed to be more careful. I was going to be in the desert for at least another week. I had travel insurance but wasn’t keen on needing to use it, especially for something as easy to avoid as heat stroke. To finish on a high note, my geographical isolation made the night sky fantastically clear. Living in developed Southeast Asia, I don’t get to see the stars that often, and going from almost no stars to that level of clarity was a bit of a shock. Before going to bed, I lay on the dry ground, trying to identify southern hemisphere constellations, and enjoyed the beautiful, quiet peace of the desert. That night, I slept more deeply than I had in a long time.
S. WhantAugust 15, 2019
🙂 If you live long enough to make it to a rocking chair, you will have tons of memories.
Del leBlancAugust 15, 2019
You are an amazing writer….truly.
Dora FowlerAugust 15, 2019
Sad to say, but my terror would overcome me.
Paula ThibeauAugust 15, 2019
Feel the fear and do it anyway…wow !
Suja TravelAugust 14, 2019
We bow low in thanks..this is a great story !
Carla QuayleAugust 14, 2019
Wow,….I envy your attitude.
L. South-BostonAugust 14, 2019
Stories like these are why I read Suja Travel. You have writers who do not sell product, but rather tell experiences. Huge difference. Thanks for sharing.
Meg MeneAugust 14, 2019
To walk with no fear is the ultimate challenge. But, in my mind, I would not pet a wild animal.
P. SkipperAugust 14, 2019
YOU, are indeed a writer !
Paul FlintAugust 14, 2019
To boldly go where most fear to tred is a sign that you believe in karma.
Harold WilsonAugust 14, 2019
I wonder how you will reflect on that experience in 20 years time,. Will it be brave or bravado..:)
Andy CaseAugust 14, 2019
There is a fine line between testing death and inviting the possible…….it is often difficult to straddle. Enjoyed your story.
James CottreauAugust 14, 2019
Some years ago, I had the experience of heatstroke and it was complete loss of mind and functions. Scary. It is when one walks past the edge. Will always remember the return…..Great story.
SocratesAugust 14, 2019
Person who plays with wild, savage animals in the heat…..likely becomes lightheaded or lighter…..
Kumar CharanFebruary 7, 2017
You do tell a beautiful story..Nambia is a joy to the eyes, but the heat does slow one down.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
Thank you! And Namibia really was lovely!
Nicki LangeFebruary 7, 2017
You travel and enjoy…..and tell a great tale…Thanks for sharing.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
Thank you!
Dev DasFebruary 7, 2017
The white skin is not made for Nambia…:)
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
Hahaha, that’s true! Or at least not the uninitiated!
Anne PorterFebruary 7, 2017
You have interesting ideas about fear…I do envy you. You move around the world and enjoy, it seems.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
My motto is “feel the fear and do it anyway.” It hasn’t steered me wrong yet!
Janice TimmonsFebruary 7, 2017
Those cats are deadly beautiful….
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
They were definitely beautiful!
Rose StarrFebruary 7, 2017
Some years ago, I had the misfortune to suffer heat stroke in Costa Rica. It is a powerful loss of body functions……scary ! Great story.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
Wow, I’m definitely grateful I didn’t let it get that far. I was a little concerned for a while. Thanks!
Mitt CannFebruary 7, 2017
Somehow sharing intimate space with a spotted animal seems carefree. However, loved your story.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
Do you mean careless? I’m not sure I know what you mean.
AnonymousFebruary 7, 2017
Carefree…careless..I do not trust animals with the wild instinct.
cynthiasmillerFebruary 7, 2017
That’s what made it scary!