the himba. the beautiful people.
a very remarkable day.
the women.
as if i had known that i would turn into a very special day, i asked our tour guide njabulo the night before our visit if i could stay at the himba village while the rest of the group would do some waterfall sightseeing. let's say he was reluctant (probably for insurance reasons)... but luckily things turned out differently. the visit started with the usual 'tourists looking at locals who look at tourists who look at them (ok, ok some take pictures also). but it was actually pretty relaxed, we took some pictures, the translator did his job ...on the way out njabulo asked if i could stay (maybe something like 'we have this moderately crazy guy who likes to hang out with locals to see a bit more of your daily life....takes a picture once a while, otherwise harmless'). nice as the himbas are: i was allowed to stay. tripple yeehaw!
first funny moment when i was on my own - maybe an act of kindness or complete misjudgment. or both: they put a camping chair in the shadow under a tree for me. all the kids were standing around me, waiting for me to do the tourist thing 'sitting in the shadow and looking at things and people.'...nope!
so i walked around, did some panoramas and had a 'ah, very interesting, but no i don't understand a word either'-chat with this beautiful woman who was preparing the daily millipap (corn flower mush) showing me all steps and the special stirring technique. the soup i had to deny but the millipap i surely tasted. verdict: sorry, not my favorite. i wish i had seen my face when i figured out that the mash contained some sand (i still wonder if the sand is the reason for their white teeth) but lacked salt. i smiled bravely! fyi: it tastes much better if you dip it into goat broth, though.
after a while i was invited into one of the huts: 3 women, a girl and a baby. yes, i had to hold the baby. did it cry? no, not even when i made funny faces (me not crying either). it was a very heroic himba baby. it just stared at me all the time (about the baby's possible post-traumatic stress disorder i have no information whatsoever). the first foto-session started. which turned out to be very funny: when we were talking they were always smiling and laughing. but the second i started to take pictures they turned into proud, serious and strong women. 'smile! please.' - no smiling anytime while having pictures taken (famous unwritten himba law).....well, except you have more patience than the model has strength not to laugh. it took about a quarter of an hour until i had a picture with a smile. what you don't see in the serious pictures is the chuckling sound she made while she was trying not to laugh. which made me laugh. which meant a lot of unfocused pictures (shooting with 1/40 second in the dark). not to mention the roaring laughter when i was showing the pictures around...i think i saw the baby smiling for a split second, too.
2nd foto-session with the beautiful millipap chef. remarkable how she carried herself. a personification of elegance and aesthetics. i wonder if it's the millipap or just the outstanding himba phenotype. fantastic. a real shame that we couldn't understand each other as she was asking loads of questions while we had our foto-session - me less talking, more focussed on focussing. but she looked pleased with the pictures. i guess with a translator it would have been very different, more informative but less special... so this meeting turned into an elaborate, fantastic fotoprotocol with unspoken conversation. clearly not the usual few pictures.
first funny moment when i was on my own - maybe an act of kindness or complete misjudgment. or both: they put a camping chair in the shadow under a tree for me. all the kids were standing around me, waiting for me to do the tourist thing 'sitting in the shadow and looking at things and people.'...nope!
so i walked around, did some panoramas and had a 'ah, very interesting, but no i don't understand a word either'-chat with this beautiful woman who was preparing the daily millipap (corn flower mush) showing me all steps and the special stirring technique. the soup i had to deny but the millipap i surely tasted. verdict: sorry, not my favorite. i wish i had seen my face when i figured out that the mash contained some sand (i still wonder if the sand is the reason for their white teeth) but lacked salt. i smiled bravely! fyi: it tastes much better if you dip it into goat broth, though.
after a while i was invited into one of the huts: 3 women, a girl and a baby. yes, i had to hold the baby. did it cry? no, not even when i made funny faces (me not crying either). it was a very heroic himba baby. it just stared at me all the time (about the baby's possible post-traumatic stress disorder i have no information whatsoever). the first foto-session started. which turned out to be very funny: when we were talking they were always smiling and laughing. but the second i started to take pictures they turned into proud, serious and strong women. 'smile! please.' - no smiling anytime while having pictures taken (famous unwritten himba law).....well, except you have more patience than the model has strength not to laugh. it took about a quarter of an hour until i had a picture with a smile. what you don't see in the serious pictures is the chuckling sound she made while she was trying not to laugh. which made me laugh. which meant a lot of unfocused pictures (shooting with 1/40 second in the dark). not to mention the roaring laughter when i was showing the pictures around...i think i saw the baby smiling for a split second, too.
2nd foto-session with the beautiful millipap chef. remarkable how she carried herself. a personification of elegance and aesthetics. i wonder if it's the millipap or just the outstanding himba phenotype. fantastic. a real shame that we couldn't understand each other as she was asking loads of questions while we had our foto-session - me less talking, more focussed on focussing. but she looked pleased with the pictures. i guess with a translator it would have been very different, more informative but less special... so this meeting turned into an elaborate, fantastic fotoprotocol with unspoken conversation. clearly not the usual few pictures.
boys and girls.
morning session with the little ones. and in the afternoon the older kids show up, assumingly returning from school with non-traditional clothes in their hands. visibly irritated about the stranger walking around in the village. but after a few minutes we're having loads of fun. showing them the pictures replaces the lack of language. and it creates a lot of laughter among them. yes, on the pictures the look very serious and proud, clearly aware of their outstanding beauty and handsomeness. for some reasons smiling happens mostly between the taking of pictures.
dancing.
sometimes you think it can't get better but the it does. photo sessions were done so it was time for a different entertainment: suddenly they spontaneously start dancing simply for the sake of dancing. it didn't take long and i was asked to show some cool moves myself.... don't ask, luckily no pictures, but future generations will probably tell the story of this historic event by the campfire (...do you remember the white guy? no rhythm, no groove). i leave the stage for the pros and watch. seldom have i seen more euphoric people.
all good had to come to an end. i was picked up again. i don't know how good the waterfall was but i'm sure it didn't beat a perfect travelday with the himba. it would be interesting to spend some days here. i guess i looked like someone who had a maximum fun-day: i was appointed 'white himba' by my travel-comrades.
had the translator send some millipap and oil to the village to say thank you. and some salt :-)
will travelling ever get better? can't imagine.
all good had to come to an end. i was picked up again. i don't know how good the waterfall was but i'm sure it didn't beat a perfect travelday with the himba. it would be interesting to spend some days here. i guess i looked like someone who had a maximum fun-day: i was appointed 'white himba' by my travel-comrades.
had the translator send some millipap and oil to the village to say thank you. and some salt :-)
will travelling ever get better? can't imagine.