What I didn’t realize, until I reached her rust-colored shores, is that Namibia is not magic. That would be an understatement. Namibia is a magician – revealing stories that transcend time with just a slight of hand. This travel diary, as told through a series of photographs told in three parts, depicts my story of Namibia. I hope that by sharing it with you, it’ll inspire you to go out and find a story to call your own.
THE DANCE OF THE HIMBA
After Etosha, I drove to Opuwo. It is a small town balanced on a knife’s edge between the past and the present. A place where tradition and modernity exist peacefully among the various ethnic groups who live there – most notably, the Himba people. They are the last semi-nomadic people left in Namibia. And when walking the streets of Opuwo or shopping in the grocery store, you’ll see many in their traditional garb – calfskin skirts and the blood red otjize, a paste made of ochre and butterfat. Otjize acts as a sort of sun protectant and skin cleanser – keeping the wearer clean, dry and protected from the harsh Namibian elements. Himba women will wrap their braids in this paste, making them appear as if they’ve just risen from the rich red earthen plains of Namibia like the summer sun.