Impressions of Africa

(this post is being written on 28 minutes of internet time, thus no pictures, not too long, and no editing. I simply had to get some thoughts out into the ether while they were fresh in my head)

February 3rd, 6:42 PM

ETOSHA NATIONAL PARK, Northwest Namibia

Leaving our campground at 5PM, we head due West on a single track gravel road that drives straight into the horizon, a dusty brown gravel kicking up around us. The top of the 4X4 is open, and I lean back on the roof, letting the 40kph breeze kick my hair around, whilst keeping my eyes peeled for the variegated flora and fauna that this drive is supposed to reveal to me. I see a springbok (antelope type thing) a herd of giraffes, blue wildebeest, ostriches, jackals and gemsbock. We see flowers that only bloom in the extremely short, yet crucial rainy season that I am currently traveling in. Our guides point out to us the ways in which the entire ecosystem in Etosha is based on things which don't need much water. A sprinbok, I am told, can survive for nearly 4 years without drinking a drop of water. I am astounded.

The further East we drive, the more intense is the rainbow that we head towards. Thoughts of leprachauns and found riches distract me briefly, but my thoughts are inevitably drawn back to the lush greenery that surrounds me.

I have been told that most of the time, this is an arid, dry land. It is a land that is harsh to live in, and even more harsh to travel through, yet all around me there are rare flowers in bloom and the smell of fresh rain on dry land is intoxicating.

We come to the end of a small lane and turn around, it is beginning to cool off and dinner will be soon. As we head back, I am struck by the angry blue-grey clouds which hover menacingly in the West. I can feel the wind coming from them, and know that the nearly horizontal sheets of rain will soon be driving through the corrugated steel and tin sheds of the shanty towns that we passed on our way here. I can't help but think how the people living there will stay dry tonight.

The sun is arrested in the sky, far enough above the horizon that I just have to tilt my head to see it. Slyly, the afternoon sun has directed a burst of light here and there through an imperfection in the upper cloud layer. Of course, the clouds are nothing to be trifled with, and upon discovery of the deceit, the spy hole is once again covered and that spot of land becomes again, shady.

When you view it as a whole, the earth here seems to be covered in a vast green carpet, like a lawn that you may find in a well manicured garden. But, like an impressionist painting, if you are to look but a bit closer you will see that the grass is not full and lush, but is instead comprised of three and four strong stalks of grass, masquerading as a whole. The trees peform a similar illusion, in that while glancing out over the roof of our moving vehicle, you would think that you were in a rainforest. But the clever acacia trees with their biting thorns and delicate flowers have filled in much less space than you initially realized, and to view them closely is to see more of the contrast that this place epitomizes.

My attention is later drawn to a patch of turqouise which asserts itself through the dense fabric of rainclouds. There is such a powerful contrast between the blue-grey thunder clouds and this small robins-egg patch, that it feels like some great magician has drawn back a curtain just a little bit, to let you in on just how much you are missing.

If this is any indication, I am missing worlds.

As we approach our campsite, the horizon seems to stretch out forever. There aren't words big enough to describe Africa, and even if there were, they would be nothing but poor qualifiers, inadequate to descibe all but the most basic of thoughts that this continent evokes.