my2cents

The first night in the roof tent was an ordeal. I guess I didn’t sleep much after midnight. It certainly didn’t help that the temperature dropped closer and closer to 0° as the hours went by. Fortunately, my dear wife was only centimeters away. Her presence gave me comfort.

In the morning we get up at dusk and enjoy a hot shower to warm up – feels great. Again, I’m surprised how good the infrastructure is. Soon after we prepare a wonderful breakfast starter – papaya cuts with sugar and Greek yogurt (plain yogurt). Tip: always look for Greek yogurt in Namibia! Akiko is incredibly helpful and cooperative preparing  and clearing breakfast, I’m sooo proud of her. It’s important to have people like her when you travel with a group.

The way back to the main road from the Waterberg Plateau seems never-ending, but I will get used to gravel roads over the course of the next three weeks. It certainly wasn’t worth it coming out here for just this one night.

We head north-west. Thomas and Stefan both run over a guinea fowl (each). They linger in herds on the shoulder of the road and if their escape strategies are absolutely unpredictable.

Might as well be in Australia I guess...

Wherever we stop, kids and teens try to sell us jewelry, “crystals” (usually polished white stones) and makalani nuts. It’s a little uncomfortable because we’re not (yet) used to that but we learn quickly how to say no. After all we want to be friendly and nice and yet we also don’t want to fill our baggage with stuff we might throw away at home. I feel sorry for the kids and teens. The idleness in which they seem to be caught is overwhelmingly sad.

In Outjo we stop in front of a super-market. Side note, I recommend using the one at the south-east end of the village. Before we even get out of the car we’re surrounded by a group of kids who all want something from us. I feel a little uneasy and queasy. Again, I have to learn quickly to deal with situations I’m not comfortable with. In the west we’re not used to being imposed on. One guy carries a wooden stick, he seems to be the leader of the pack. Marga asks him to watch our cars and we’ll bring hime and his deputies something to eat from the super-market. Although I’m happy to hit the road again that experience will prove to have been important for me in terms of “letting the African culture in” i.e. dropping some of my guards.

In Kamanjab we stop for gas. Although we carry spare cans on the roof of the Land Rovers we make a habit out of pumping gas at each gas station along the way. That’s certainly not un-wise in Africa. Kamanjab is dreary and bleak. At the gas station a few herero women in their traditional dress sell jewelry. Friendly teenagers try to sell makalani nuts. They’re a lot less touting than groups in other places. Of course, one of their first questions is “where are you from”. We don’t tell them right away that we’re from Switzerland but engage them in a little chat about what they know about Europe. Quite a bit, we learn. When we tell them that our country lays between Italy and Germany they’re at loss. When we finally unveil the answer they all yell “Hopp Schwiiiz!” (“Go Switzerland” in Swiss German). Now it’s our turn to be speechless! We burst out with laughter.

Entrace to Hobatere Camp decorated with antlers

After another 70km we finally arrive at Hobatere campsite. The camp is an naturalist’s dream – simply marvelous! There’s hardly any information about this community campsite on the Internet and I don’t know how you’d book in advance. The Hobatere Lodge is 1km away, they might know. The campsite is very basic and luxury at the same time. There are regular toilets aaaaand a hot shower! To build them black canvas is wrapped around trees and bushes. The foundation is made of concrete but there’s no roof – the star-laden African sky acts as the roof.  The water for the shower is heated up by a fire that burns underneath an old gas bottle turned into a boiler. When you wait taking a shower until the sun has set it feels like warm rain falling from the starry sky.

Outdoor shower and sink

We also try to fix the fridge built into Thomas’ Land Rover. Unfortunately, we have to learn that the tools the car is equipped with are lousy. Another lesson learned: make sure the tool set is complete when you take over a rental car in Namibia. We also notice that we weren’t given spare fuses for each appliance. With fuses from Stefan’s and my car we manage to get by…

→ Namibia 2009 photos

Since we didn’t sleep the night before (in the plane on the way from Europe to Africa) we enjoyed a good night’s rest in a cosy bed even more. Using the extra blanket – as in the US they’re called comforter in Namibia – we slept well and it was snugly warm.

So, we get up at 8 and already now what little luggage we brought to Namibia is spread chaotically around our room. This bothers me a little…the safari hasn’t even started and already certain items seem to have gone missing. Frantically I try to put everything back to a sensible place in our luggage, constantly assessing the expected periodicity of use of the item.

After a quick breakfast we’re picked up by our guides Stefan & Marga in order to run the last errands in Windhoek before we’re off for the wilderness. We shop at a large US-style supermarket located inside a mall in the center of Windhoek. The goods at display all look tasty but it’s hard to tell for us what we really need as we don’t know what our guides already bought for us. Food management during our safari is basically their responsibility. To be on the safe side we buy 20l of water per person in large 4l containers. Since the sleeping bags that came with the Land Rover’s camping equipment really don’t look like their made for temperatures below 10°C we also buy some extra blankets for our roof-top tent beds. Also, since we didn’t bring too much cash to Namibia (advise by travel agency) we try to withdraw cash from the ATM machines in the mall. We have to try out a few until we find one that is willing to accept our Maestro cards AND sputter out cash.

While loading our Land Rovers I realize that Akiko and I really travel light. Compared to the other two cars ours is half empty. I realize that we really didn’t bring a lot of luggage, indeed. Again I run through my mental packing list to see if I can come with items we forgot at home. I can’t and, therefore, I try to calm down.

Then, finally, we hit the road and head north towards Waterberg Plateau. I quickly get used to the Land Rover and to driving on the left side of the road. At a large BP gas station on the outskirts of Windhoek we have the Land Rovers checked for water, oil, gas, and tire pressure.

Last check at the gas station before leaving civilisation as we know behind for a while

In Okahanja, the next major village, we make a brief stop. There’s a nice craft market, many people hang around aimlessly. I wonder what they’re up to all day long. I feel watched and this makes me uncomfortable, ill at ease. Are we safe here? Getting used to Africa isn’t easy in the beginning…
At a nice liquor store (bottle store) we buy beer for Akiko and soda for me. Again, I notice that we buy less than the others in our party. What’s wrong with us?

Along the road from Okahanja to Waterberg we encounter the first “wild” animals: special species of sheep, baboos, small wardhogs, and a bush bock.

Waterberg plateau

The camp at Waterberg is neat and clean and we’re surprised about the sanitation. The camp ground might as well be somewhere in Europe. When Marga tells us that all the other camps on our route will be much less “luxurious” I wonder what to make of that comment. Is she joking? Is she trying to scare us? Or is she simply trying to set our expectations straight? I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.
When we put up our roof tent for the first time we realize that whoever prepared the car and its camping equipment for us packed a ladder extension that doesn’t fit the ladder properly. I get angry that this anonymous African – and Africans in general – and his sloppy work. Not that it couldn’t happen elsewhere in the world… I get loud, hectic, and also a bit frustrated since also the tent itself isn’t as expected. The fact that Stefan’s Land Rover’s ladder extension doesn’t fit either doesn’t exactly improve my mood. After some hammering and bending I manage to make them both fit, though. Meanwhile Stefan & Marga prepared dinner and my mood curve points skywards sharply Life is good now and I apologize to Akiko for my behavior.

→ Namibia 2009 photos

Windhoek airport is deserted when we arrive. Besides our airplane we only see an Air Namibia jet and a small propeller plane. Although all immigration boths are “on service” the formalities take time – welcome to Africa. It’s our first trip to this continent and we have to get used to the TIA (“this is Africa…”, shrug) feeling.

We’re supposed to get picked up by a Bushlore agent (the car rental company), but there’s no one waiting for us. To be frank, we halve expected that. So, after a while we call them, they call back and another 30min later the agent arrives. We’re not quite sure which of the various excuses are in fact true.

The agent drives us to the Okavango guest house where we’ll pick up our Land Rover and where we’ll spend the first night. The first impression matches the image we got by looking at their website. Everything is nice, neat and clean. Of course, it’s cold to use the outdoor pool. After all it’s winter in Africa. Our room is also cold; too cold to feel comfortable and the air condition/heater is only able to produce cold air. We’re happy about the extra blankets in the closet.

At the guest house we also meet the other Swiss couple who booked the same self-drive safari tour as we did. We’re immediately taken to Thomas and Sandra, they seem very nice and considerate and are only a few years older than we are. We’re relieved! It’s the first time we ever booked a guided tour. No knowing the guides and the other folks did bother us slightly and we just hoped to meet likable people.

Sandra and Akiko chat and enjoy the last warming rays of sunshine as the sun sets. Yes, the light is intense in Africa.

Then we finally take over our Land Rovers from the agent. He seems somewhat in a hurry and we’re a bit overwhelmed by all the new impressions. We make a crucial mistake. Since both Land Rovers are apparently exactly alike (according to the agent) he only shows and explains to us the camping equipment in one care exemplarily. That way for example we don’t notice that on one car the extension for the roof-top tent ladder doesn’t fit the ladder. Ouchh… However, we’re surprised how “complete” the camping equipment is. There’s even a first-aid kit that seems reasonably well equipped. Despite the tiredness, we couldn’t sleep on the night flight from Europe to Namibia, we’re full of beans. The anticipation is huge.

After 5pm a Kuoni (tour operator) representative stops by and apologizes for the troubles we had with the Bushlore agent at the airport. Also, he brings more documents and brochures with information about Namibia. Most of it is a copy of what we’ve already got. Despite that, we think it’s a nice touch that he came by to make sure the guests got to their accommodation safely.

Finally, we also meet the guides that Kuoni hired for this tour: Stefan & Marga from Germany and South Africa respectively. They run their own little travel agency Active-Reisen in Germany and they are Africa experts. Also to them we’re taken immediately. We’re totally happy and are convinced that this small party of 6 will function well.

Stefan & Marga take us to Joe’s Beerhouse for dinner. This, however, doesn’t make me too happy as this restaurant/bar is mentioned in every travel book which makes it less appealing for me. Nonetheless, the sun sets close to 6pm, it’s getting really cold and we’re off to the Beerhouse – not knowing that it’s more or less an open-air restaurant. Despite my reservations I’m pleasantly surprised by the Beerhouse. The decoration really is interesting and the food on our neighbor’s plates looks and smells delicious. Pity it doesn’t hold up to it…it certainly doesn’t help that the food gets cold so quickly.

→ Namibia 2009 photos

While in Fukuoka, Japan, I went out twice with my couchsurfing.com friends Sachiko and Kotoe. One night they took me to a tepanyaki restaurant called “Umakamontei” close to Tenjin.

Ok, the food is just uuuhhh, ahhh, soooo delicious; one of the best meals I’ve ever had in Japan. However, what sets this restaurant apart from millions of others is that back in 2005 US singer Mariah Carey had dinner there with her entourage. Since she arrived with some 40 people about a dozen had to wait in front of the door because the restaurant is rather small. Traveling with stars has its downsides…

A blogger has a wonderful set of pictures of that place. If you can handle Japanese Google maps you might be interested in the restaurant’s location (second floor).

At Asahi Nihongo in Fukuoka each Friday students must deliver a short speech/presentation for fellow students and teachers to show their Japanese has improved (or not ) over the course of the past week. Last Friday Mikel opted to tell everybody and especially myself who I really am.

So, since Mikel does not have the Japanese character sets installed on his computer he actually drew all the characters with his mouse. Impressive! Also, he invested a fair amount of time to draw some nice images for the presentation in MS Paint. All this just for me…

Everybody in the audience was stunned. But see for yourself.

I think the Japanese have a split relationship to closeness and private space. Some thoughts:

• It is rather uncommon for Japanese couples to openly demonstrate affection for each other in public. Teenagers walking hand-in-hand is about all you ever see – if at all. Of course, it’s a cultural “thing” that also manifests itself by not shaking hands for example. Maintaining private space is important.
• On most train/subway rides during rush hour that very private space is obscenely violated. You stand chest to back or back to back with total strangers. The fact that some men abuse this closeness to get their hands on “female body parts that are taboo for strangers” is only the sick culmination of this development (there are designated women-only coaches now).
• I recently visited a Toastmasters meeting in Fukuoka, Japan. One of the members, a young lady who works at Fukuoka’s international university, talked about her upcoming “Global Communication” speech. She complained about foreigners invading her private space when talking to her. Japanese keep a certain distance respecting each others private space even in a face to face conversation. That lady stated that foreigners often stood too close to her during a conversation or that they kept their face too close to hers. I can see that there’s indeed a need to talk about global communication. A very interesting observation; I wish I would still be around to hear her speech.
• Also in Japanese Onsens there isn’t much privacy. While men and women are separated (except for family onsens) everybody is naked in an onsen. After all, one of its main purposes was to clean your body. That was back then when one didn’t have running water and showers in each and every household. So, a few or a few dozen total strangers share the same cubicles to wash themselves and relax in the same couple of pools with hot water – all naked. Where’s the desire for private space here?

When learning kanji tutors usually explain the real and assumed meaning of the series of strokes. In more sophisticated kanjis you’ll find a number of individual radicals combined. Each of them has a meaning of its own. This sometimes makes for funny twists. Here’s one such hilarious sample:

The kanji for cheap/convenient

consists of house and woman 女. Meaning: having a woman in the house is cheap and convenient.

Then the women, however, stroke back. The kanji for (ex)change

consists of twice the kanji for husband 夫 and one kanji for day/sun 日. Hence, changing the husband twice a day…

Up until now I was more or less convinced that electro magnetic fields/radiation (EMF/EMR) do no good to “living creatures” (humans, animals, plants). I couldn’t fully justify this believe with rational arguments only, though – bad for an engineer like myself. The internet is full of EMF/EMR articles for example at WHO, Wikipedia EMF, or Wikipedia EMR.

Living in Switzerland I’m not used to seeing a lot of electrical wiring hanging above people’s heads in cities. Most of it is nicely tucked away in underground channels and tubes. Whether they’re isolated is a different question of course. I want to believe so…

Should EMF/EMR indeed harm your body then why is life expectancy in Japan so high? Buildings in their cities span a tense net of wires that seem both chaotically arranged and unstable. Shouldn’t the Japanese all be fried alive with so much bad energy around them? Does the fact that they’re not suggest that EMF/EMR is harmless?

The following picture was taken from right outside my bedroom in Fukuoka, Japan …

Blending-in in Japan? Well, you don’t; you can’t. Even in major cities, you don’t get to see foreigners all too often. You still might get starred at by kids. They either giggle at you because you seem to be funny looking for them or they just stare with their mouths wide open.

Ridding the subway or local express trains in the morning is a wonderful time for philosophical thoughts about this culture – I won’t reveal mine here. Why time for philosophy? Because the wagon is so jam-packed that there is simply no room for anything else but standing there, arms tight to your torso. Then you try to sleep as the Japanese do, stare out the window if you can (might not see a window at all), or let your mind and/or eyes wander.
During the brief stop at the next stop there’s some shuffling among the passengers, but one thing is for certain: there’s always room for one more person, and another one, and yet another, … After all, that’s just how you yourself got washed aboard.

This morning I tried to capture with my small digital camera how it is to arrive in swarms at the terminal station. First this:

Then two minutes later after a train has just arrived:

This is the first in a series of posts over the next four weeks about my language studies in Fukuoka, Japan.

Some eight months ago I decided that in order to really push forward my somewhat limited Japanese skills I needed to spend a few weeks in Nippon without my wife – she’s Japanese. Besides, giving each other a lot of room unconditionally is in our opinion a key ingredient to a healthy relationship. Nonetheless, as happy as my head felt on departure day as sad my heart was. After all, I’m not “just” married, but happily married to the core.

So, here I am again. Immersing myself in a culture that is so fundamentally different from what we westerns are familiar with.

As always, flying to Japan from Central Europe was a nightmare. Not only does it take painstakingly long, but worse, the jet lag really does kick in. Flights leave Europe in the early afternoon and arrive in Japan roughly 12 hours later with the time difference being eight hours in my case. So, when you get off in Japan in the morning hours your biological clock is a eight hours behind and your tired body aches for some rest. You have an entire day ahead of you, though. Of course, you cannot just crash down on some hotel bed and let the day pass as check-in usually is not before 2 p.m.

This time I arrived in Tokyo Narita just before 8 a.m. with my connecting flight to Fukuoka due to take off at 11:30 a.m. For the first time so far, the usually very efficient but inflexible way the Japanese deal with large masses of people had a negative impact on me. Dozens of foreigners lined up in front of the only two immigration booths that were occupied. Right in front of me was an American who looked an experienced traveler. After 30 minutes and only slow progress in the queue he called upon an official: “Sir, can’t you open some of the booths reserved to local residents for us? This is very sad, you show no respect for visitors. Very sad”. Then he added: “In Korea and even China this was much better”.
If you know the Japanese and their pride only a little you know that the American hit Bull’s Eye with that comment. Don’t ever tell a Japanese that a this or that be better in Korea or China. How can you overlook that Japan is the best country (if not in the world then at least in Asia) ? They usually look down to those communist peasants in China.
Anyway, soon thereafter I was waved to an immigration both that said “Local residents” above the counter. Thank you anonymous American!

While waiting for my connecting flight I fell asleep at an airport for the first time. I set the alarm on my iPod touch, plugged the headphones in, and stretched out over three hard seats in front of the gate. It felt well deserved.

In Fukuoka I was picked up not only by my host family but also by an Asahi Nihongo school official. I was impressed.