The Deserts

Namibia is a vast country.   The coast line to the Atlantic Ocean (2253 miles long) is its west border.  The tropic of Capricorn is about half-way north and south across the country so that summer and winter months are almost opposite those in the UK.  The surface area of the country is 824,268 square kilometres.  It is bordered by Angola and Zambia in the north (close to where I am in Katima Mulilo), by South Africa in the south and in the east by Botswana (also close to where I am in Katima Mulilo).  
 

There are two huge ancient deserts in Namibia, the Namib (from which the country derived its name) and the Kalahari.  The Namib Desert is a long narrow strip of moist coastal desert between 50-140 kilometres in width and 1350 kilometres in length from the north of the country to the south.  The Kunene River borders the north of the Namib and the Orange River borders the southern end.  This desert is thought to be the oldest on earth along with the Atacama Desert in South America.

The Kalahari Desert is in the east of Namibia, beyond the central plateau highlands (between 1000 – 2000 metres in height).  This desert is has typical long, vegetated dunes of deep red sand. 

There are granite landscapes in the Damaraland and Brandberg where isolated mountains of hard jagged rock rise up from the surrounding areas.  Mineral deposits including diamonds have been found in the rocks in a coastal region north from the Orange River.   

Many other rocks of Namibia are sedimentary, formed 600 million years ago at the bottom of huge primeval seas.  Since their formation they have been pressurised, transformed and eroded to make the desert landscape.  Over millions of years the Orange River has eroded and carried away vast amounts of sand from its origin or source, in the highlands of Lesotho and all along its journey through Namibia to the Atlantic Ocean. 

 

A very strong cold current flows onto the coast, called the Benguela Current.  This current works to rebuild the landscape that the Orange River has eroded and transports the sand northwards from the river’s mouth and deposits it on the shore again to create huge coastal dunes.  The wind then lifts the sand and moves it again northwest until it is deposited inland again.  This process is known as the ‘marching of the dunes’ and it continues at an average rate of 20 metres each year.

The dunes themselves form a variety of shapes but all have a more gentle slope on the exposed side (windward) and a much steeper sheltered side (leeward). Some of the dunes can be 300 metres high (1000 feet) making them the highest of anywhere in the world.  

Try to locate the area described on Google Earth and see if you can track the shape of the dunes.  Along the coast are crescent shaped dunes which lie perpendicular (at right angles) to the strong southerly winds (ref: Google Earth: Fly to: Namibia Skeleton Coast Park).  Further to the east there is a belt of transverse dunes (north and south trending).  These lie parallel to the southerly summer winds but are also affected by the strong easterly winds which blow in the winter months.   Star dunes are to be found to the east and south of the transverse dunes.  These have three or more ‘arms’ extending from their peak or high point.  Star dunes are formed by multi-directional winds that move the sand in many different directions.  The dunes here ‘rest’ on a horizontal solid sandstone terrace (ref: Googlearth: Fly to: Namibia Sossusvlei).

Next weekend, driving to Swakopmund from Omaruru on the C33 and B2 roads we will cross the southern edge of the Namib dunes / desert.

Inter-House Athletics Mubiza

Athletics 2 – Inter-house Competition

I arrived at school today expecting the Inter-house Athletics competition to be held after school, instead of which it began at 7.30am!  Cool start as we set off down the sandy track through the bush (which is really beautiful – long tall grasses of different varieties all in flower and shady trees) to the sports field (about 300m or so).  Actually the children set off long before the adults and arranged themselves loosely amongst the trees and in the trees waiting for the events to begin.

Somewhat miraculously, equipment appeared, including a shot, a discus, five steel javelins and a high jump kit (no tug-of-war rope or relay batons though!). Then chairs for the teachers.  Children were dispatched to bring down tables for those teachers recording the names of first, second and third – you didn’t count if you came after third.  They carried the tables on their heads.  Children are often required to do things for the adults which they always do as if it were a privilege and they never question or complain.

The teachers had too much to do so the children supervised themselves and the little ones were so happy to be free, they celebrated in the treetops, riding bendy branches as if they were on horseback.  Another game was ‘who can touch the top of the termite mound first’.  Climbing the termite mound had to be achieved first – still I suppose they were practicing their athletic skills for the future – there were no events for them today!

You need to read a few blogs back as to how the events were organised form longest to shortest distance, except today the field events were interspersed.  The children had been divided into three ‘houses’, Impala, Zebra and Buffalo and points were awarded for first, second and third but the teachers who were scoring took a long time discussing whether first was 1 point or 3 points and whether this would result in the ‘house’ with most or least points winning the whole competition.

A portable blackboard and stand was brought next and set up under the trees.  Mr Mukwata, who was organising the sports, did what every British PE teacher would have done on Sports Day, he wore his best football shirt (French National Team), trainers, cut off trousers and baseball cap!  He had produced an excellent programme of events and had brought his friend along to help. 

Many of the children wore different clothing today and I found they had been asked to wear sportswear which had been loosely interpreted as ‘your best clothes’.  Most took part bare footed and there were piles of shoes under the trees but they ran (in the heat) in such outfits as tight jeans under skirts (girls), leggings and frilly skirts (girls) and strapless tops (girls) and school trousers / shorts and tee shirts (boys) but could they run and jump despite this!

As the 3000m for under 17 year old boys started, so did the long jump competition.  Sand pit ready made by just removing the long grass; plastic rakes to hand (from the field cleaning) so no costly maintenance contract from the local authority!

The events followed the programme, with a bell and whistle alerting the spectators and competitors to the final lap.  The teachers recording the place winners had a job keeping up, as they had not recorded in their (brand new) exercise books the order of the events and also because another race would start before the first one had finished.  Predictably after just two events, the scores were muddled but resolved after another lengthy discussion.

The javelin competition took place in the centre of the ‘track’ with competitors running up to the footpath which crossed the track and then hurling (full sized) javelins to the best of their ability (some practising going on in the background).  No one was hurt at all.

The high jump followed on from the long jump and was a very serious competition with children (girls in tight skirts etc) hurling themselves over an ever raising bar.  The boys on the whole had the most daring of techniques; some head first into the sand pit.  No one was hurt at all.

You need to remember also that there is no water at the school due to a breakdown in the pumping system (it actually comes from a well or bore hole so should be in plentiful supply).  At regular intervals both boys and girls were dispatched to the neighbouring village, across the race track, to fill two plastic jerry cans and a watering can so the water could be shared around.

An unfortunate incident happened to the ‘head boy’ (oldest boy who puts out the flag and clock in the mornings and rings the bell between lessons) who collapsed after the 2000m and almost passed out and lay prone on the ground for a very long time.  I was quite worried but a teacher doused him down and sent him home (over the tar road) to his village, hung out between two boys who had just finished the race.  He could hardly walk and collapsed again at the school office.  Shortly after he was taken home, his mother came back into school to shout at the H.O.D. (who was in charge due to the Principal being on a three day Curriculum Committee Meeting for Silozi).  The mother’s point was that if the boy collapsed whilst in the care of the school, the school should take him to hospital for treatment.  A fair point I thought.

The only car that was available belonged to Mr Mukwata who, if you recall, was running the sports event.  He was duly called from the field to drive over the road to the boy’s house, whilst I waited to go in the car to the hospital if that was required, which would leave Mr Mukwata to return to his sports duties and another teacher to drive his car (it is about 20km in either direction) to the clinic or the hospital.

The two male teachers were gone for over half an hour only to return and say the boy was recovering (heat exhaustion and lack of fluid I would think).  The mother had calmed down and had bought the two teachers a cold drink from the ‘shop’ in the village.  I hope to be able to post a picture of a typical village soon.

The sports continued whilst this was going on and the teachers who had not been allocated a ‘recording’ duty were by now leading the javelin and shot.  I was astonished to see the Grade 1 teacher actually demonstrating, fairly accurately, what I remember as javelin technique with run up, from secondary school. 

So everyone played their part, Zebras won, the Grade 1 children were called for their porridge first and its District Athletics on Saturday!

Why Mosquitoes Buzz in People’s Ears (A traditional tale from West Africa)

I've been doing some reaearch this weekend to help the Grade 4 teacher with her English lessons for this week so here is the tale I found!

One morning a mosquito saw an iguana drinking at a waterhole.  The mosquito said,

“Iguana, you will never believe what I saw yesterday.”

“Try me,” said the iguana.

The mosquito said, “I saw a farmer digging yams that were almost as big as I am.”

“What’s a mosquito compared to a yam?” snapped the iguana grumpily.  “I would rather be deaf than listen to such nonsense!” The he stuck two sticks in his ears and went off mek, mek mek, through the reeds.

The iguana was still grumbling to himself when he happened to pass by a python. The big snake raised his head and said, “Good morning, Iguana.”

The iguana did not answer but lumbered on, bobbing his head, badamin, badamin.

“Now, why won’t he speak to me?” said the python to himself.  “Iguana must be angry about something.  I’m afraid he is plotting some mischief against me!”  He began looking for somewhere to hide.  The first likely place he found was a rabbit hole, and in he went, wasawusu, wasawusu, wasawusu.

When the rabbit saw the big snake coming into her burrow, she was terrified.  She scurried out through her back way and bounded, krik, krik, krik, across a clearing.

A crow saw the rabbit running for her life.  He flew into the forest crying kaa, kaa, kaa!  It was his duty to spread the alarm in case of danger.

The monkey heard the crow.  He was sure that some dangerous beast was prowling near.  He began screeching and leaping kili wili through the trees to warn the other animals.

As the monkey was crashing through the treetops, he happened to land on a dead branch.  It broke and fell on an owl’s nest, killing one of the owlets.

Mother owl was not at home.  For although she usually hunted at night, this morning she was still out searching for one more titbit to satisfy her hungry babies.  When she returned to the nest she found one of them dead.  Her other children told her that the monkey had killed it.  All that day and all that night, she sat in her tree – so sad, so sad!

Now it was mother owl who woke the sun each day so that the dawn would come.  But, this time, when she should have hooted for the sun, she did not do it.

The night grew longer and longer.  The animals of the forest knew it was lasting much too long.  They feared that the sun would never come back.

At last King Lion called a meeting of the animals.  They came and sat down, pem, pem, pem, around a council fire.  Mother Owl did not come, so the antelope was sent to fetch her.

When she arrived, King Lion asked, “Mother Owl, why have you not called the sun?  The night has lasted long, long, long and everyone is worried.”

Mother Owl said, “Monkey killed one of my owlets.  Because of that I cannot bear to wake the sun.”

The king said to the gathered animals:

“Did you hear? 

It was the monkey

who killed the owlet -

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

Then King Lion called the monkey.  He came before him nervously glancing from side to side, rim, rim, rim, rim.

“Monkey”, said the king, “why did you kill one of Mother Owl’s babies?”

“Oh, King,” said the monkey, “it was the crow’s fault.  He was calling and calling to warn us of danger.  And I went leaping through the trees to help.  A branch broke under me, and it fell, taaa on the owl’s nest.”

The king said to the council:

“So it was the crow

who alarmed the monkey,

who killed the owlet –

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

Then the king called for the crow.  That big bird came flapping up.  He said, “King Lion, it was the rabbit’s fault!  I saw her running for her life in the daytime.  Wasn’t that reason enough to spread the alarm?”

So the king nodded his head and said to the council:

“So it was the rabbit

who startled the crow

who alarmed the monkey,

who killed the owlet –

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

The King Lion called the rabbit.  The timid little creature stood before him, one trembling paw drawn up uncertainly.

“Rabbit,” cried the king, “why did you break a law of nature and go running, running, running in the daytime?” 

“Oh King,” said the rabbit, “it was the python’s fault.  I was in my house minding my own business when that big snake came in and chased me out.”

The king said to the council:

“So it was the python

who scared the rabbit

who startled the crow

who alarmed the monkey,

who killed the owlet –

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

King Lion called the python, who came slithering, wasawusu, wasawusu, past the other animals.  “But, King,” he cried, “it was the iguana’s fault!  He wouldn’t speak to me.  And I thought he was plotting some mischief against me.  When I crawled into the rabbit’s hole, I was only trying to hide.”

The king said to the council:

“So, it was the iguana

who frightened the python

who scared the rabbit

who startled the crow

who alarmed the monkey,

who killed the owlet –

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

Now the iguana was not at the meeting for he had not heard the summons.

The antelope was sent to fetch him.

All the animals laughed when they saw the iguana coming, badamin, badamin, with the sticks still stuck in his ears!

King Lion pulled out the sticks, purup, purup.  Then he asked, “Iguana what evil have you been plotting against the python?”

“None! None at all!” cried the iguana.  “Python is my friend!”

“The why wouldn’t you say good morning to me?” demanded the snake.

“I didn’t hear you, or even see you!” said the iguana.

“Mosquito told me such a big lie, I couldn’t bear to listen to it, so I put big sticks in my ears!”

“Nge, nge, nge,” laughed the lion.  “So that’s why you had sticks in your ears!

“Yes,” said the iguana.  “It was the mosquito’s fault.

King Lion said to the council:

“So it was the mosquito

who annoyed the iguana

who frightened the python

who scared the rabbit

who startled the crow

who alarmed the monkey,

who killed the owlet –

and now Mother Owl won’t wake the sun

so that the day can come.”

“Punish the mosquito! Punish the mosquito!” cried all the animals.

When Mother Owl heard that, she was satisfied.  She turned her head toward the east and hooted: “Hoo! Hooooo! Hooooooo!”

And the sun came up.

Meanwhile the mosquito had listened to it all from a nearby bush.  She crept under a curly leaf and was never brought before the council.

But because of this the mosquito has a guilty conscience.  To this day she goes about whining in people’s ears: “Zeee!  Is everybody still angry with me?”

When she does that she gets an honest answer.

KPAO! 

First attempt video! Namibian Netball news too!

Tuesday - this is my first attempt to show you a tiny video of what the school looks like.

We had a really fine, hot day today until the last bell when the heavens opened. The children couldn't clean (weed) the field or have athletics.

The next few days will be quite challenging as one teacher is going to a burial, one teacher is in Windhoek for an operation (and he took the only stock cupboard key with him) and another teacher signed out for three days holiday in his village!

The feeding programme started today with maize meal for every learner who had brought a bowl - spoons didn't seem to matter.

We reorganised the computers so that we have a run of ten available although there are no extension cables for most of them!

Grade 4 had PE last lesson and I lent the teacher my football so we had Namibian Netball (one bent goal ring at 30 degrees to horixontal). Despite the rugby scrums and sprinting with the ball, the children played, boys and girls together, remarkably skilfully and naturally - it was good to see!