Tsintsabis

Driving north from Windhoek, mountains gradually give way to volcanic hills, which give way to boulders and terminte mounts that fade into the vast flatness of the Kalahari. At one point, the highway ascends the shoulder of an old cinder cone and reveals just how featureless the scrub of the desert is. Luckily, I live on the northwestern edge of the desert in a village on the banks of a seasonal river. It's the end of the rainy season, so the grass is green, the birds are singing, and the village goats are nibbling. In the village, kids run around, music thumps, gospel choirs sing, old men yell BS at passing kids - life in Tsintsabis seems to be pretty peachy.

 

When I drove through town for the first time, I was impressed by the solidly built houses and the water taps that spring up in each front yard. The one-acre plots on which people live and farm seem relatively adequate for living life. They're big enough to house some goats and chickens and to grow a little maize. The green grass that grows all around the village also helps to lighten the atmosphere. Honestly, I don't feel the poverty the way I did in Kenya where the grime, the smells, and the urban disintegration bring it is so close to the surface. But I think you have to look a little bit beyond the obvious signs here in Tsintsabis. I'm starting so see some signs in the thin women, the kids with distended bellies, the homes with a hundred healthy maize plants and a dozen mouths to feed. I'm sure I'll have more to add to this list in the coming months.

 

I've settled in rather quickly. I live in a building that was intended to be a bakery, but it failed when the Germans funding it realized that people in the village had no money to spend on bread. Now, it serves as a storehouse for Treesleeper maintenance materials and as an appartment for me. I live in one biggish room with access to a toilet, a sink, and two showers that were apparently intended for would-be bakers. I also have a double bed. Yes! Despite living in a concrete room with fiber board ceilings, I have managed to make myself feel at home. Its amazing how comforting your "stuff" can be. My room now smells familiar, with a Namibian flare of course.

 

I want to say more about the basic setup in Tsintsabis, but I need to get off the computer. More to come soon.