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On the road⌠#15 (view from Rostock)
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etosha investiture
Safari: Arabic and Swahili origins meaning âlong journeyâ, entering the English language in the late 19th century in reference to game hunting expeditions. Today, the hunting with guns is mostly replaced with hunting with eyes and cameras, usually by big tourist groups in Africa, and Portalian malariologists driving around Namibia.
'Eliminating malaria' is a bit time consuming, but I still make room for life-balancing activities so that my Namibia experience will not just revolve around mosquitoes and parasites. I am roughly 6 months behind on blog writing, but will push ahead so I donât lose my adventure memories. However, I think it would be difficult to forget my first trip to Etosha. My first safari. About time I report on this:
If you are a tourist in Namibia, or even a Namibian in Namibia, you will hear the name Etosha. It is Namibiaâs major game park and any visitors stepping into the country will usually include an Etosha trek on their travel itinerary. Since this first trip, I have had the privilege to see wild life in different countries and environments throughout Africa (including more Etosha pilgrimages), but nothing will replace the thrill of my first safari. My words will not give this experience justice. Even at that, I hope my pictures can still convey the magnificence of Etosha and her animals. It is my pleasure to attempt.
 An exciting part of an Etosha safari is that it can be self-driven. All you need is a map, gasoline, and a camera, and you just drive yourself all around the park, searching for animals and ensuring you reach one of the interior lodges before sundown.Â
Zebras in the rear-view:Â
Plenty of Zebra, and better to see in front-view:
The anticipation of sighting wild life is almost as good as the exhilaration of finally spotting some. I think I blinked less in Etosha than anywhere else, and my eyes seemed to burn as I stared at the surrounding brush, looking for anything that resembles an animal. Your brain begins to play tricks, and I would mistaken rocks and twigs for rhinos and antelope. When you guess right though, nothing can be more rewarding:
Above was a special glimpse of the critically endangered black rhino. The name is misleading and does not have anything to do with color. They are distinguishable from their white rhino relatives by the shape of their top lip. The black rhino has a tapered, hooked lip while the white rhino has a square, wide lip. Hope you can use that for trivia night? Below is the mighty, male kudu with his spiral horns:
On the first trip, my adventure buddy, Sean, and I packed up Penelope and headed out one Friday morning. Etosha is about 5 hours from Windhoek, which means 'super close' for Namibia standards. It is an easy trek and even the gravel roads within the massive park are well kept. In 3 days, with constant movement (and constant snacking), we were able to reach each side of the park. We were thrilled with the timing of our trip as well, since the park rangers had just opened a new part of Etosha, a huge expanse that was previously closed off for research. It was a beautiful area and it definitely gave the feeling of complete solitude:Â
The trip was smooth, but we had to strategically plan out the drive to ensure we would navigate Etosha with enough time to reach our chosen check points and sleeping spots. We would be some of the first civilians to drive through this restricted western section, and some of the first guests at the new Dolomite lodge:
An extra Dolomite delight (or danger?) was the fact that they did not build fences yet around the lodge. From the parking station, to your rooms, to the dining area, you needed an escort! Lions were seen lazily hanging out in the parking spots. Ridiculous. That definitely heightened the senses, to say the least, and added to the excitement of staying at Dolomite: Â
We felt so fortunate to see our Moma lion who was looking awfully protective of her cubs. We met some nice, older guys from Canada and Australia and we all splurged on some scotch as we reviewed the animals we spotted that day. Amazing that we all saw different wild life on some of the same paths. Luck and timing.
We even had some of our favorite sightings right on the road, like this giant cobra below. He kept his icy gaze on me until I drove away:
One of the Australians at Dolomite was a professional photographer, and I was definitely having lens envy when I saw his equipment (Now proceed with the dirty jokes). Even without the hardcore lens, I still had a decent little zoom on my camera and was able to catch some of the smaller and more far away creatures like the hornbill and hyena below:
Etosha is truly amazing and unique. It used to be the largest game reserve in the world when it was first established in 1907. That was the time when Namibia was still âSouth West Africaâ, a German colony. Etosha is set apart from others in Southern or Eastern Africa due to the giant salt pan that dominates the surroundings.Â
The pan itself is over 130 Km long, and 50 Km wide in some areas. For my MA peoples, that is like driving from Boston, to Worcester, to the Cape, then back to Boston again and erasing that whole space in between with white salt flats. Water can briefly fill the pan during the summer, but due to the record floods in 2011, the amount of water seen in the pan made it look like an ocean. It was an interesting sight to see animals grazing along âoceanâ coastlines:
We even had the treat to see flamingos in the distance:
After leaving Dolomite, we had our main adventure day, with our drives around the middle of the park, from watering hole to watering hole. When we began the journey, we assumed Dolomite would have a petrol station like the other lodges, but it hadnât been built yet! On our return to the main lodge, Okauquejo, we were running on fumes, and that âEâ made me sweat until we saw the gate. We of course then laughed as we imagined ourselves stuck in the middle of the game park, fending off the lions from the roof of my car. I know my Mom is shaking her head reading this, as she just returned from her Namibia journey! Proud of her for making the trek and loved reliving Etosha with her. Nothing was better than seeing her face as she saw her first wildlife. We even had the chance to see the King, a 'first' we shared together:
What a beautiful beast, but I digress. More to come on this regal guy, but back to the first report!
The watering holes were fantastic. Not only do you have a higher probability of seeing animals, but you get to see them interacting with each other, some species happily drinking side by side:
It was wonderful watching the different animals together and I could spend days studying their every move:
Nothing beats the arrival of the elephants though, any they still remain my favorite:
They dominated every scene and all the other animals respected their time to drink:
Another amusement is watching the giraffes drink. They cautiously observe their surroundings,
Then go for it:
Always enjoyed the chance to see some little ones too, and the only thing better than elephants are baby elephants:
The little ostrich was pretty cute too:
All in all, we saw some amazing wild life and felt so lucky with our fortune during this short trip. It was animal overload, and loved my first safari. You could even feel the love in the air:
More animal shots and more safaris to report, but for now, Etosha holds a special place in my heart. I hope I get to take my kids here someday for their first safari, with their eyes rolling as they listen to Dad reminisce...
 This post is dedicated to Maggie, who patiently (anxiously?) waited for it! Much love to you, the family, and your new little one soon to arrive!Â
World Malaria Day 2012
A quick post to highlight an important event: World Malaria Day! We celebrate WMD every year, on April 25th. To say the least, it holds some weight to me with my work, and proud to say this yearâs festivities were Namibiaâs greatest. With the country's steady decline in malaria cases, marked with their shift from a control to elimination stage, Dr. Margaret Chan, the Director General of the World Health Organization, made a first-time visit to Namibia:
Much credit goes to Namibiaâs Minister of Health, Dr. Richard Kamwi, for his persistent requests to Dr. Chan, never giving up the chance to proudly display his countryâs progress in the fight against malaria.
Preparations:
The special events began on Monday when Dr. Chan arrived. Early in the morning she met with the Prime Minister and then followed with a speech to the Namibian Parliament. Not only was this a special parliamentary moment to mark Namibiaâs heath improvements and the important link with the WHO, but Margaret Chan became the first women to ever speak to the parliament and state house officials. Her eloquent and strong speech concluded with a standing ovation.
The activities continued on Tuesday evening when WHO used this visit to launch their new malaria surveillance guidelines and their âT3â initiative. Here is Dr. Chan and the Honorable Minister Kamwi getting ready for the launch:
 With this event, they have become good friends, and she commended his dedication and efforts numerous times during the World Malaria Day activities.
 The âT3â stands for "Test, treat, and trackâ. Ensuring every suspected case of malaria is first tested before receiving treatment, combined with vigilant surveillance is exactly the malaria mantra that we have been chanting during my first year working in Namibia, and we were quite pleased to see the WHO encouraging and pushing these messages with their new initiative. Part of Dr. Chanâs entourage included Dr. Robert Newman, the Director of WHOâs Global Malaria Program, who presented T3. During his speech I was excited when he highlighted the need for cross border work, and mentioned our Tans-Kunene Malaria Imitative, the malaria cross border project we launched last year with Angola and Namibia! It was fun hearing those words out of the WHO malaria leaderâs mouth:
 A critical issue that Dr. Newman brought up was the need for increased domestic investment in malaria, along with donor support, to help Namibia cross the barrier into malaria elimination. It is something we have been stressing with private companies within the country, especially with the global financial crises threatening the gains made over the past 5 years. In fact this yearâs global malaria day slogan was: âSustain gains, save lives, invest in malariaâ. With Dr. Newman echoing our concerns, we hope that it had some resonance with the stakeholders present.
Malaria is still a killer, in Southern African particularly, where a child still dies every minute. I try to remind our donors, especially form the US, that the figure equals a â9/11â worth of children every day. Astonishing. We are lucky that this is not the case in Namibia, but have to be reminded of what can happen if our efforts slip. Â
After the document launch, the festivities continued with a pleasant reception and long dinner that of course included more speeches. Some came from the EU Ambassador, the US Ambassador, the Permanent Secretary, the Minister of Health, and of course Dr. Chan herself.
Minister Kamwi:
Margaret Chan:Â
She did not have a formal speech prepared, but took notes during the presentations and addressed topics she felt was relevant. I was impressed with her presence, engagement with the room, intelligence, and warmth. Not to mention, I was quite pleased she read the malaria briefing given to her prior to the event and was on point with the state of malaria within Namibia and highlighted key issues.
To lighten the evening, the dinner also included performances by some of Namibiaâs young artists. One in a friend of mine, Shishani, and I was so happy that she could make the event. The head of one of the international malaria organizations, ALMA, even bough a copy of her album and Dr. Chan quoted one of her lyrics! âStay true to yourselfâ. Way to go, Shishani:
The night came alive when the artist âTequilaâ performed, bringing the Minister of Health to his feet, followed by Margaret Chan! Once they were up, everyone followed and it was hilarious seeing her rock out and smile to the music. We knew the rest of the events would be a breeze!
The following day was the main event, where World Malaria Day was commemorated in the north of the country in the second largest city, Oshakati. Our northern malaria office is located there and has the country's biggest district hospital, where the DG was welcomed:
Health staff gave her a warm reception, and the delegation met in the hospital assembly hall where Dr. Chan addressed the room:
She commended Namibia on the progress made in controlling malaria and gave credit to all the right staff, from the health workers, to the spray men and women. It was a special moment for the Namibians in the north and I was proud to be witness to that historic day.
The crowd filling up Oshakati Stadium, with Margaret in the foreground:
Ovambo cultural dance:
Here is Permanent Secretary Kahuure, WHO country rep, Dr. Robalo, Minister Kamwi, and Margaret Chan in a presentation of WHO donating bednets to Namibia:
Then Dr. Chan helped launch our own ministry malaria documents!
 The festivities concluded with Dr. Chan visiting a health facility where local nurses demonstrated proper use of our malaria rapid diagnostic tests and indoor spraying techniques. Here Dr. Chan looks over the RDT procedure, with the new diagnostic posters we just developed, proudly hanging in the background:
Now we will see if this visit will boost private sector and donor commitment to malaria elimination in Namibia. The next steps will be to continue outreach while we still have the momentum, but for now, I need a break! Off to visit some waterfalls in the north and camp under the stars as I recharge the batteries. A special shout out to my friend, Michelle Thulkanam, the WHO communications officer for Namibia, and the one responsible for making WMD 2012 a complete success. Thank you, Michelle! The preparations were hectic to say the least, but we worked with smiles, so thrilled for the chance to showcase Namibia in their fantastic malaria accomplishments. Happy World Malaria Day!
âI am proud to be here in Namibia. This is a perfect place to celebrate World Malaria Day and consolidate our optimism about the prospects of freeing this world from an old and tenacious killer.â
-Â Dr. Margaret Chan, WMD 2012 Â

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zanzibar diversion
I am breaking my own rules. The obvious relationship of blog title and entries means I write about Namibia. Not this time. As much as I am completely overloaded with material and pictures from Namibia, a large potion of my time has been spent outside the country. I would not be able to share my complete experience without covering those trips, and the justification to this post is that they would have never occurred if it was not for my Namibia work. It has opened doors to explore Africa, and these adventures have shaped me just as much. An important one, for both the student and explorer in me, was my trip to Zanzibar.
MEG
The malaria âeliminationâ global community is not that large. In fact, it is a small family, and this allows the opportunity for all of them to meet. As I have mentioned in previous posts, I am part of the Southern Africa Malaria Elimination Support Team (SAMEST), a long name I know, but as a true public health partnership, of course we needed an acronym. Silly.
As part of SAMEST, I am linked with the Global Health Group (GHG) in San Francisco, who is responsible for establishing the Malaria Elimination Group (MEG). Yes, I live in an acronym soup. Â Â
MEG is a group of 50 international experts "brought together to elaborate the scientific, technical, operational, financial, and programmatic issues that countries need to consider when pursuing or embarking on malaria elimination". Basically, MEG is a bunch of malaria elimination celebrities. Half of these professionals I know through journals and stories, with most having a big part of the history in the fight against malaria. It was a privilege meeting them, to say the least.Â
Below, is our group shot. I think it was the first time the hotel staff person held a camera, but think he did quite well:
Every year MEG has a meeting to go over specific issues and concerns facing global malaria elimination. The 2011 location was Zanzibar. How inconvenient:
As much as I believe this location was truly chosen for its paradise environment, Zanzibar is approaching malaria elimination itself, and the meeting was elected to celebrate its successes. Since we are directly involved with elimination efforts in Southern Africa, we were invited to attend (not without a tiny push from our manager. Thanks Deepika!).
In celebrating Zanzibarâs accomplishments, we would be able to visit the Zanzibar malaria control program (the ZMCP, an equivalent unit to the one I support in Namibia) as well as hospitals, village clinics, and the communities themselves.
What an opportunity for a true glimpse of the area, and a welcomed balance to us sitting around a hotel conference room all week.
Going from the west side of Africa to the east, is no easy task. However, even with no-show airplanes and 4am layovers in shutdown airports, I was still giddy putting my feet in the east coast soil. After 3 flights and two days, I finally arrived:
Before we got down to business, my CHAI team and I took advantage of our time on the island and arrived the weekend before the MEG conference. It not only allowed us a chance to explore Zanzibar on our own, but gave us some much-needed team time. My colleagues from South Africa and Swaziland respectively, Allison and Joe, were there, as well as our manager Deepika. Allison and Joe are not only my CHAI family, but are great friends from my public health days at BU.
Here I am with Allison and Joe. Is this really what an elimination team looks like?
I still pinch myself knowing that I have my good friends on my work team, it is a fun and fortunate combination. Joe took care us and did all the bookings for the first weekend in Stone Town, and some ocean adventures at the tail end of our trip. We wanted to close our week gliding through the waters on one of the typical Zanzibar Dhow ships. I love those sails:
Those of you not familiar with Zanzibar, it is a magical mixing pot, blending in bits of Africa, the Middle East, India, and Europe. With the boundaries of surrounding water, these influences have aged and matured on this island to create a vibrant culture and identity.
It has a rich and complex history with exploration dating back to the Greco-roman and Persian empires, to the Portuguese and British, and private holdings by an Omani sultan.
Zanzibar is actually a semi-autonomous island archipelago, off the coast of Tanzania. One of its main industries is spice production (cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, and pepper) which lends itself the knick name the Spice Islands. Random fact: At one point, Zanzibar was the worldâs largest clove producer after the Omani sultans brought the spice with them from Indonesia in the 19th century. I hope you can use that on jeopardy one night?Â
Here is one of the many spice fields:
Stone Town
Our first weekend concentrated on the old center of the capital, called Stone Town. Mji Mkongwe, Swahili for âold townâ. This area is a World Heritage site, and has tremendous historic and artistic importance for East Africa.
For centuries in was an intense and crucial sea-trade link between Asia and Africa, and the fabric of history envelops the entire city.
The architecture found here still holds the Arabic, Persian, Indian, and European design from its early explorers. The Arabic design dominates however, with the country primarily being 98% Islamic, which is clearly depicted in the conservative dress, beautiful doorways, and call to prayer:
With its traditionalist and conventional way of life, Zanzibar still gives off a sense of welcoming and warmth to foreigners, primarily due to the dependency on tourism.
Due to its preserved heritage, Stone Town is a popular tourist attraction for the islands, with tourism remaining one of Zanzibar's primary forms of income.
The people in this old city center are extremely kind and hospitable, but some can become even smothering to the visitors as they try to sustain themselves off tourism. Despite this constant bombardment, the old town provides a warm and stimulating atmosphere of tight, winding streets, colorful shops, and taste of time travel.
The town is a maze network of picturesque narrow alleys filled with bazaars, tall apartments, mosques, and cafes.
Joe and I were the first arrivals, and our main goal on day 1 was to get lost in those alleyways. We easily succeeded:
I didnât think it was possible with the seemingly small size of the town, but after a few twists and turns we were deep into the heart of Stone Town. I loved every minute of it, and this dense, colorful, old city was a stark contrast to the open, quiet solitude found in Namibia.
Here is a montage of Stone Town entryways, alleyways, window-ways, and every-ways...because of course I went photo-crazy:
Our cute guest house was right in the middle of Stone Town and was an easy starting point to stroll around the neighborhood. Even when we were caught in the rain, it was a pleasant walk and we knew the powerful sun would dry us in minutes.
The threat of more rain didnt stop these guys from catching some premiere league soccer action:
Joe and I had the second goal of the day getting in the ocean. The Stone Town coastline is probably the worst on the whole island, since it is primarily a port town filled with industry and boat traffic. Not the open paradise beaches found on the East Coast of the main island, but for us, the warm water, hot sun, and busy boat atmosphere hit the spot:
I think we were the only white people to jump in this water, and were surrounded by a sea of local children laughing at us two silly guys. We were as happy in that port as they were.
Here are a few of our explorer friends. I still dont know what they were looking for:
Finally we were joined by our counterparts, Allison and Deepika, and more lazy Stone Town explorations took place.
Deepika and Joe leading the way, as Allison and I lag behind with our cameras out:
I never would be sick of walking those streets.
It was great having the full team together, we donât get that much time to hang out, so we take the opportunities we can.
With the Indian ocean, spices, and roots, Zanzibar provides a nice change of cuisine as well. I tried to have some kind of sea food every day, and each one was better than the next, with one amazing curry or sauce after another:
MEG Conference
The weekend sailed by and then it was business time. The MEG conference took place at the nicest resort I think I have stayed.
It was located in a secluded area of the island, with an amazing pier and private beach:
It was such a contrast to the small villages we passed through to get there, it felt alittle out of place. However, we were not going to pass up a chance for brief resort living, especially when our brain will be on overdrive for a week.
It was quite amusing being at this hotel; definitely a romantic spot.
So it was basically honeymoon couples and a bunch of malaria scientists. Interesting. If we were stuck in this resort the whole week, it would have given such a skewed and artificial perspective on Zanzibar, we were so lucky that the week included trips to the national malaria program and community clinics.
Our program tour started with a look at the malaria control office. They had an impressive team and facility. Their labs were top notch and a big difference to the rural clinic labs we would see later in the day:
Here is the insectary where mosquitoes are tested and studied, a key component of any malaria program and one that we are struggling to support in Namibia:
 Here is the MEG gang at our first rural clinic. Like the rest of our tour, we were warmly greeted by the local staff:Â
Here the staff describes their use of cell phones for malaria case reporting:
MEG and the locals discuss some of the challenges and issues with the cellphone-based reporting system:Â
Our next visit was with a community group responsible for educating the public about malaria prevention. Again, they were open to share their experiences and barriers.Â
Here is MEG and the community group:
One issue discussed with the community group was advocacy around bed net use, an important preventative method. With the malaria threat decreasing, some villagers began using the nets for other purposes. Here, this one farmer used a bed net to protect his crops. Smart guy:
This is a challenge facing many malaria eliminating countries, including Namibia. In the north, villagers are using the nets to capture fish during the flood season. We have to think of practical solutions like teaming up with the Ministry of Fisheries to provide fishing nets along with our malaria nets. With this, we will still need to increase education on the proper use of each.Â
The final stop was at a regional hospital to examine their malaria diagnostic and treatment capabilities.
d
Some of the facilities were definitely in some rough shape, but they still successfully support all blood analysis at the hospital. Impressive work, considering the limited availability of lab products and tools:
As a biology boy, have to give a shout out to the trusty microscope. Instructions on the wall for preparing and reading malaria parasite blood slides:
I felt like I was able to experience a part of Zanzibar that is rarely seen by the tourist and I think the whole MEG group had that sense of appreciation of the value that was added to our malaria conference.
This produced a very pleasant vibe for the whole week and I think it made everyone more comfortable with each other and gave us the chance to have some stimulating and candid discussions. Every night I crashed from information overload. My brain had to be set to âturboâ to keep up with some of the brilliant company we had. For example, we met a gentleman from the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine who was the first to discover one of the 4 malaria parasites, P. vivex. We had representatives from the Gates Foundation, who have been supporting our CHAI work directly, and it was a great opportunity to have some one-on-ones with the folks that fund our work. The lectures included regional elimination updates from the Americas, Asia/Pacific regions, and Southern Africa, group breakout sessions on active surveillance, malaria importation and migration, global financing on elimination, and finally some feedback for our Zanzibar colleagues on ways forward in their program. The scientist/public health side of me was in scholarly heaven and was absolutely burned out from my attempts to absorb all the discussion details.
One way to recharge the brain batteries, and an overall highlight for our week, was waking up early every day for a morning swim in the Indian Ocean.
The water was almost too warm, and the morning provided the best time to refresh and clear your mind for the next full day of meetings.
The subject matter, company, and Zanzibari backdrop made the MEG conference one of the most worthwhile meetings I have attended and will keep those memories close as I push through the office work these next few months.
Ocean Adventures
After the amazing yet intense week, we spent the rest of our time in Zanzibar in the ocean. Instead of spending an extra night at the resort, Joe and I went on a mini-adventure to explore the northern tip and eastern side of the island.Â
 If I thought the bay side was beautiful, The east destroyed it. Here it was all open sea, with a color that was more green than blue. Pure, perfect, ocean, the aquamarine tone almost glowing.
I have seen some wonderful oceans in my life, but nothing was like this. I was mesmerized.  Something special about the Zanzibar horizon that Joe and I realized immediately was the cloud cover. It gave such a beautiful frame to that sea, to have those deep colors surrounded by these enormous fluffs in the sky, made it dreamlike. How do places like this exist? Call it nature, call it God, whatever it is, it makes life worth it. If everything collapses in the global health world and the economy in Europe or the US finally hits bottom, I will move back to Zanzibar to paint and fish. That is a promise.
Joe and I set our homebase in Nungwi, the small party town at the furthest point North. The highlight was the fact that the main route from the guest houses and bungalows to the cafes, restaurants, bars, etc, was the beach. The coastline was the main sidewalk for Nungwi. Amazing.
Joe and I of course filled ourselves with more fish and curry, and sampled the East African beer. Fun to try beers called â Kilimanjaroâ and âSerengetiâ, but it made me appreciate our Namibian micro-brew, Camel thorn. Still my #1 African beer.
We met some nice kids from the UK, and hung out with them the rest of the night. We were also joined by a monkey, who used our UK friends as a restroom.
The next day was all swimming. We smartly sun-screened up, but the Zanzibar sun still won the battle and Joe and I were fried. Never was I so burned. I thought I was invincible with my Mediterranean blood, but I was proved wrong. Ouch. Despite the ridiculous burns, the day out in the Indian Ocean was another highlight of my time in Africa.Â
Zanzibar concluded in style with a dhow trip complete with some snorkeling, âexotic fruit tastingâ, and mangrove lagoon exploration with our GHG colleagues.Â
 It was sensory overload and the life underwater was just as vibrate as the life above. To all by scuba friends, get out to Zanzibar.Â
The sail going...
Up.
Here is Sir Richard Feachem, the Director of GHG, with his Coke commercial:
Allison and our colleague, Jenny, who will be doing a research project in Namibia with me later this year:
We spent the day, drifting from reef to reef, and soaking in the ocean lifestyle before being sent back to the African interior.
As mentioned above, the dhow trip included a stop at a mangrove lagoon, which had some incredible, petrified reef walls, that were etched away through time:
We stopped at one tiny island for lunch.Â
Here is the SAMEST/GHG gang enjoying our last Zanzibar meal together:
To have a link between paradise and work is incredible, and I appreciate it even more this last month as I spend day and night cramped over the laptop writing âPPPâ reports: policies, protocols, and proposals.
This office work is my punishment for my island adventures, but I will take it, because Zanzibar gave me so much in terms of unique and beautiful memories as well as insight on the work I do. It has enriched my life with a new country experience and a new frame of mind on Namibia. I hope I will get to experience Zanzibar again (and see it malaria free when I do), but until that time, as I sit in a dark cave of work, I will keep those images of colorful streets and fairytale oceans close to my heart.
â...you have to leave the island in order to see the island...â Â
-Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â JosĂŠ SaramagoÂ
take a hike
Wow. I am absurdly behind on posts, but I will never surrender! Things have kicked into high gear these last few months, as we dove into malaria season in Namibia. Malaria season also coincides with the end of the year, which means major scrambling by the Ministry of Health to tidy up all their leftover projects and to complete all of their malaria prevention activities. This translates to more work for me. I cannot complain because with this intense work came some amazing opportunities to travel to more parts of Namibia and to a few of her neighboring countries (ill report all of this probably 3 months from now, at the rate of these blog entries). I have been living out of suitcases, with six countries in six weeks. Now I am on the road in Namibia for a month to perform some supervisory support visits and training for the health facilities around the country. I have had some fantastic experiences in this last stretch of the year, but needless to say, I am welcoming the holiday break. Almost home!
So where did I leave off with these posts? Oh yes, still trying to cover many of my spring activities. I will make this a double entry and will overload on pictures to make up for my absence:
As the winter closed in Namibia, my friends and I had the itch to get out of Windhoek and enjoy some weekend trips. As I have mentioned in previous posts, weekend trips in Namibia = hiking. Nothing is better than exploring this beautiful country by foot (of course we have to sit through very long car rides first before any walking). There are so many different landscapes, landforms, and landdreams to choose from, that anytime we can, we aim to cover a new territory. This post will cover two favorite hiking/camping trips I took a few months back.Â
Brandberg
Brandberg is the tallest mountain in Namibia at about 8500 ft. The mountain is not a beast, but since it elevates from the flat surrounding plains, it looks extreme. It is just not just a peak either; it is a wide disk of jagged rock, almost looks like a giant outmeal cookie resting on the countryside. It makes a dramatic sight, and on a clear day, it can be seen from miles in all directions. It can even be spotted from space. It is like Namibiaâs birth mark. Here is one of my favorite satellite views of Brandberg:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Brand_hires_trimmed.jpg
I expected to catch site of the big cookie early on the journey, but no such luck. August and September are the dry, dusty months and we had a layer of haze blocking our views. (This time of year is annoying with the dust, but it is the end of winter and gives us reasonable temps during the day for some comfortable hiking. We had to deal with cold nighttime temps, but it was worth the sacrifice.) So, through the haze I kept mistaking every hill for Brandberg. When we finally made it, I had no doubtâŚ.
An impressive sight after stretches of flat road. Even more impressive when we drove closer and only saw rock on our horizon:
Brandberg is located in the Northwest part of the country, in an area called Damaraland. I want to minimize my use of âDamaralandâ since it is the name given by the apartheid government in the 1970s. It was the forced territory for the relocated Damara people (in a similar story to many of the Native Americans in the United States), and was a hostile environment for the farming community. This stark landscape is quite striking though, and is probably one of my favorite areas of Namibia so far:
The space is so vast and untamed, and even in these modern times, the feelings of seclusion are palpable. It is hard to imagine the isolation felt here by the Damaras in years past:
Amazingly, the Damaras have no known cultural relationship with any other tribe in Africa, and very little is known of their origin. They now represent just 8% of Namibiaâs population. The Damara story adds to the mystery of the Brandberg region and gives the beautiful environment a touch of sadness:
The name Brandberg is Afrikaans/Dutch/German for âFire mountainâ, which comes from its glowing color which is sometimes seen in the setting sun. Similarly, the Damara name for the mountain is Dâures, which means 'Burning mountain'. If we tried this camping trip in the summer, we would face temps over 100 degrees. Burning mountain indeed:
Ăfrica is our hiking leader, and has done many trips in her 2+ years in Namibia:Â
 Yes, her name is Africa. Great having her expertise around, not to mention she is one of my dearest friends here (even if she yells at me for leaving my cell phone and wallet in the wrapped up tentâŚ.)
We arrived about midday, and even at the close of winter, it was too hot to attempt any hikes. So we drank some Windhoek Lagers at the camp and built ourselves up for the exploration ahead. That first evening we decided to go on our own quest to find a decent sunset spot and view of Brandberg:
We were a group of four, which was a perfect sized camping team. It included my French friend, Sandrine, and two of my Spaniards, Ăfrica and Olga (Usually a European flavor to my trips). Sandrine is now back in Paris, and I was real happy I was able to have a trip with her before she departed:
 She was a great adventure friend (and laughed at my stupid jokes). We miss her, but breaking news is that she will join us as a neighbor in Botswana! We will rejoice⌠then probably meet for a hike.
  We had our wine for warmth that evening, but it turns out some layers would have helped as well. As soon as the sun dipped below the horizon, the temps fell dramatically. I think it was a change of about 30 degrees in 30 minutes. With wine in belly, we took in the sunset and rushed back to set up the fire for dinner. Â
 Digression: That night I was wound up because I heard that the rare desert elephant has been spotted walking through the camp grounds in the past few mouths. A few minutes after settling in my sleeping bag, I heard some noise outside, and my heart sped up. Could it be some elephants strolling through our site!? Nope. Just a bunch of donkeys. I grumpily wrote them off, but one of them captured my attention. He found out how to open our water faucet with his mouth! Ingenious little bastard. I was impressed. SO, to not waste the water all night, I had to MacGyver rig our kettle over the faucet to protect it from our new donkey friends. How exciting.
We woke up at sunrise and were ready for our big day. Here is another friend that visited us during breakfast:
The next day we had the goal of reaching the White Lady hidden within Brandberg. No this is not some crazy witch, the White Lady is a rock painting. It has been an archaeological dilemma and several different hypotheses have been put forth on its origins, authorship and dating. With recent technology, it was discovered that the White Lady is much older than first thought, and was found to be a bushmen painting dating back at least 2000 years ago:
The White Lady is actually not a lady at all, but a medicine man, in a ritualistic dance, adorned with decorative attachments to his legs and arms. The White Lady-man has some neighbors too. The rock face that it is painted on includes many other bushmen art, even older than the white lady, depicting some animals as well, like the oryx:
  The painting has undergone severe damage since it was first âdiscoveredâ in the early 20th century. For a few decades, brilliant tourists used to pour water on the painting to make the colors more clearly visible in their pictures, thus causing the painting to fade quickly. Morons. The rock face is now a protected heritage site of Namibia, and visiting is only permitted with official Damara guides. I donât mind this at all, because these Damara guides are quite knowledgeable about their area and was a good move by Namibia to bring some income to their peoples. No independent tour groups are allowed to setup shop here. You still have to wonder how much of the profits the Damaras get and how much goes straight to the Namibian governmentâŚ
The area is quite rich in bushmen art, and over 45,000 rock paintings can be seen within Brandberg. I love getting the chance to catch a glimpse of the past, and relished the opportunity to sit and get lost in the paintings. It still blows my mind at the years these paintings have been resting here, a testament to time and the history of man.
Some of the older paintings were quite simple but still held some raw, primeval beauty. Ancient dancers, hundreds of years before the White Lady:
 As much as I enjoyed the rock art, the hike in itself was pleasant:
The Brandberg is a spiritual site of great significance to the San (Bushman) tribes of the past and you can see why as you follow the guides to the White Lady. The landforms and flora are quite unique, and give some mystique while surrounded by the high Brandberg walls:
One of the many distinctive flowers living in Brandberg:
 Black, magnetic rocks magically strewn all around Brandberg:
Who doesnât love stepping stones?
The hike was done in the morning and gave us the afternoon to rest in the shade and prepare for another sunset hike. Our camping lodge provides a sweet truck with seats on the roof to cross the high grass and reach one of the surrounding plateaus to climb for a beer and a panoramic view of the surroundings: Smart to not try any hikes through the tall grass, we donât need any snake bites. In my time in Namibia, I have already encountered 2 cobras on a hike (pictures to come), and we donât want that tally to increase. Not only did the truck protect us from the potential snakes, but gave us a fun perspective of our path to the plateau:
 Once there, we took in the setting sun and had a perfect close to Brandberg:
 Nelson Mandela Rock:
Bye bye Brandberg:
Spitzkoppe
This is another favorite mountain range in Namibia. German, for âpointed domeâ, Spitzkoppe is a grouping made up of one giant spike of bald granite with its surrounding smaller teeth. Dramatic like Brandberg, rising from the desert surroundings, it still has definite contrasts with the size, shape, and composition of rock. It provides many different hiking options and perspectives, complete with rock bridges, and more ancient paintings. I know Spitzkoppe must be visited again:
 This time around, we joined some of our running friends who were doing a 10k relay. We of course missed their race (it was early Saturday morning and some of us couldnât take that Friday off, shame on work reality for getting in the way), but made it to the festivities for the rest of the weekend. The race atmosphere looked exciting though (despite the heat) and think ill give it a go next year.
Some other race fans:
Our friends did great, all made some solid times, with one group (starting late due to bus issues), still came in second place!
Here is team Suzuki Escudo, Felipe and Samuel, with their prize:
Sam has an amazing ability to always come in second place in his runs, and as my partner in our marathon relay the following month, we continued that tradition with another 2nd place finish! (The Namibia Defense force beat us by 50 minutes, so no chance for us to beat Sam's tradition!).Â
So after some celebrating, we went back to the camp to get things set up:
 Here is my tent location. Iâll take it:
Here is Klaas, on dinner prep duty:
We setup our âliving roomâ in a sweet spot between some big boulders and had our midday beverage in the shade:
Cheers to the shade!
Here is another shot of favorites; Johanna, Felipe, and Samuel. A perfect blend of Columbia and Spain:
After becoming properly saturated, we went off for (once again) a sunset hike:
 Group procession:
Had to stop half way of course for a group shot:
As the usual sunset goal, we climbed up a random outcropping so we could gain some perspective, here to see the colors hit our side of Spitzkoppe:
And then we wait and enjoy:
Closed the day with the great hike and a perfect dinner which included an absurd amount of meat as usual. We had lamb, beef, and kudu I believe:
This weekend was at the start of September, and the temps were already intense. Again, no midday hikes, but different from Brandberg, you could sleep without any sleeping bags or layers at all. Fantastic to stay out and watch the stars, always so bright in Namibia. I will need to attempt some tripod night shots in the future.
The next morning, I woke up early to go on a hike with two favorites, Ăfrica and Fanny:
We started at sunrise to beat the midday sun. As soon as the sun peaked over the mountain top, the heat was intense. It was good the majority of our hike was early in the morning.
 Here is Fanny, will the sun starting to peak in the background. To get an idea of our climb progress, look to the left side of her head and you can see our camping spot:
The hike up was pretty easy and quite enjoyable with some fun rocks to climb, great views, and fun trees. Here are a few of Namibia's adored quiver trees, hanging off the side of the mountain:Â
However when we were getting to the summit, some of our climbs seemed demanding and we questioned, how will we will pull this off on the way down? A favorite climbing quote:Â "Getting to the top is optional. Getting down is mandatory."Â
We forgot about our hardships we would face on the return once we reached the top and took in the sights. It was well worth it (Needless to say, our climb down took over twice as long. We were wiped out):
On the summit of this peak, you could see the highest point of Spitzkoppe. That can be reached, but would need some climbing gear. Future challenge?
I really enjoyed both Brandberg and Spitzkoppe for different reasons, each providing their own unique landscapes and feel. Similarly though, (even though both mountains receive many travelers every year) both conjured illusions of exploring ancient, uncharted territories; that each step we took was a step never taken by anyone else:
It was as if this country was designed without humans in mind. I feel as if I am a constant trespasser in a world written in fairytales or nightmares. It is filled with hauntingly beautiful landscapes, and I am constantly humbled by the magnitude of this planet.
Even with my friends present, we have all felt the stark emptiness and depth of our surroundings. It is as if we were magically lifted off Earth and placed into another realm. The landscapes we have witnessed have elements that could be found in a Heaven or Hell, and it still amazes us how these stark contrasts can merge together to form these enormous, neverending, alien landscapes.
Nothing can beat that feeling of conquering a new mountain, charting your own trail, and sleeping under the stars after your successful summit. The weekend tradition of hikes will continue, tt would be a sin if I let this time pass in Namibia without taking these trips.  For the past few years, I did not take full advantage of beautiful New England and the outdoor options that she offered. I only managed a few hikes, and I am trying to make up for lost time. I now pledge I must keep a steady contact with Mother Nature, no matter where I end up living, and need the balance of city and countryside to keep myself functioning at 100%. Besides the fun and sense of adventure they offer, they provide a necessary recharge of my batteries after some of the intense work.
This country is built for outdoor activities; I think it has a magnetism pulling you to its furthest outskirts. The landscapes, the stars, the temperatures, all built for perfect hiking/camping experiences. Now we just have to watch out for leopards and weâll do just fineâŚ.
Back to the present day. I am writing this post from the deck of my lodge along the Okavango River. The sun is setting, and I keep getting up to take some pictures. One scene is more beautiful than the last, and I get lost in a trance watching the sunâs colors play off the reflective water. As I write, the crickets are starting their night song, the hippos are having their last chats, and even a lion makes his presence known somewhere in Angola. Now it is past dusk, just at that point where you can make out the last distinction of cloud shapes in the dark sky. Over on the horizon are some scattered flashes. A lightening storm, miles into the Angolan wilderness, is beginning. The only other light now is coming from one small fire I see across the border, some lone souls, possibly looking at the small light from my lodge, wondering about this lone soul. I stop writing and lose track of time as I try to guess where the next flash will come from. You can hear the faint thunder now, as the storm approaches. I turn off all my lights and put this computer away, to adjust my sight to the storm and get lost in the abyssâŚ
I have had one adventure after the next here in Namibia, meeting so many amazing people and having so many stimulating interactions, it is hard to keep track. With so much interaction and stimulation this year, sitting here watching the storm reminds me that the silent and solitary moments will hold in mind just as strong as the exciting times. Like I experienced on my hiking trips, this scene of flashing light on the gaping horizon reminds me how vast this land is and how small I feel sitting in the middle of it. It is just as exhilarating as the moments of action. Next year I will try to do my best to describe these solitary moments that one can experience in Namibia, not just the action adventures. As I continuously mention these strange landscapes, I will try to do my best to describe the feelings one experiences here; the solitude, the excitement, and of course, the awe. The name of this blog started as a joke, but it is becoming more and more fitting. The year was awesome. Namibia is awesome.
So much more to discuss, but all in good time, friends. It has been a year of a lifetime for me, and now feels like only a few days have past. Namibia is defying the laws of physics and 'time' has a different translation here. I will hold on to these thoughts, moments and experiences. The only thing missing this year was the chance to share these events with you first hand, and hope this blog opened a piece of it to you. However, I look forward to speaking with many of you in person during the holidays, rather than through this blog. Especially so I can use my hands when I talkâŚ.
See you soon!
Northern Exposure
Ok, time for more work updates. I have to even out my adventuring blog posts with some war-on-malaria blog posts. Some of you must think I don't have a job, with the bias of my entries, but I assure you that my first six months have been dominated by malaria work. Most of my adventures have been weekend escapes, and as wonderful as they were, not to mention essential for life balance, take up just a fraction of my time. Rightfully so, since I am here to help Namibia eliminate malaria, which might take a bit of effort! Bring it on, parasites... here we go.Â
As hectic as its been (and at times quite frustrating), I really have been enjoying my CHAI malaria work. As I have mentioned in previous entries, my job is not all locked into office paperwork and politics, but has a healthy fieldwork component thrown in. This is obviously my favorite part, but also adds tremendous clarity to my projects and goals. The fieldwork is instrumental in building necessary knowledge, but more importantly, it provides the true context and perspective that is critical for our potential success. The added bonus is that it also allows me the opportunity to interact with a tremendous variety of people and to explore all parts of Namibia, especially the regions not on the tourist routes:
One of the most valuable field trips I have taken in my initial few months was my northern trek for our Diagnostic Algorithm Study. I have briefly mentioned this study in one of my early posts but here is some background information on the project, as well as a refresher on the Namibia malaria situation:
The country is on track to reaching malaria elimination by 2020. Excellent. One key factor in achieving this target is establishing an effective diagnosis system. If the health workers diagnosis malaria properly, then they can treat properly. Also the more accurate the diagnosis, the more able we are to prevent onward transmission of malaria. Diagnosis is a critical component of an elimination program not only to ensure good malaria management, but will also aid in the patient care overall (as malaria cases go down, fevers are attributable to other causes, and that 'differential diagnosis' becomes just as important).
Diagnosis is also the cornerstone for malaria surveillance. So, as Namibia pursues malaria elimination, the NVDCP (the office where I work, the National Vector-borne Diseases Control Programme) must implement the most efficient diagnostic algorithm (methodology) that will capture the maximum number of malaria cases. A more accurate, efficient, and fast response to identifying true malaria cases (in what we call, the passive surveillance system) will trigger active surveillance, where surveillance (or environmental health) officers trace the origin of the malaria case(s). With this, we aim to interrupt local transmission, limiting cases to importation from neighboring countries (with this, comes our cross-border work, but we'll save that for another entry perhaps). With this improved diagnosis and surveillance, we can actually map malaria risk and identify where the trouble spots are for malaria transmission. The Diagnosis Algorithm Study will also be used to inform and direct the new national diagnosis and treatment guidelines that we are developing.
All clinics in Namibia have stock of rapid diagnostic tests for malaria (RDTs) that can give an accurate test result in about 15 minutes. They are simple devices that just need a drop of blood and some buffer solution:
If used properly, these RDTs are the best diagnostic tools, especially in these rural clinics where microscopy is unavailable. For any result that is unclear, district hospitals do have microscopes for parasitological confirmation of cases.
Health care workers in Namibia have been dealing with malaria for decades, and are quite familiar with the signs and symptoms. When the malaria season is at its peak, and the clinics become over-burdened, some health care workers will treat for malaria just based on the clinic signs rather than using the RDTs to confirm if the person is truly positive. This is a big no-no and happens often in the high endemic regions, Kavango and Caprivi, where a lot of our work takes place.Â
Although all clinics have RDTs and all district hospitals have access to laboratory diagnostic services, an estimated 50% of suspected malaria cases are treated based on clinical suspicion, even despite negative test results. The over diagnosing prevents accurate reporting and determination of disease trends. This is also quite dangerous, as the true cause of illness goes undiagnosed and has been shown to increase the chance of death.
The aim of this study is to assess the ability and feasibility for the health care workers to test ALL fever cases for malaria.
 We also have these secondary objectives:
To determine the true prevalence of malaria in these 4 sample health facilities
To establish a list of common risk factors for having malaria
To design a testing algorithm in order to catch all cases with minimum cost
To understand the current diagnostic practices, outlooks, and challenges of the health facility personnel
We chose the four health facilities from three high endemic regions in northern Namibia; Kavango, Caprivi, and Omusati. These facilities were selected because of their representativeness of other government health facilities in the malaria-endemic areas and because of their high reported malaria caseloads. These clinics also seemed to be overburdened and their reporting has not been consistent, so it gave us an opportunity to visit, work with, and re-train the clinic staff. We could see where their problems persist, evaluate what they need to improve, and see what we can do to help.
On the trip, I would have âMemeâ (title of respect, 'Tate' for men) Haidula with me, the national case management coordinator for the NVDCP. She is based in our northern office in the second biggest city (town) of Oshakati. Haidula has been a nurse in the malaria program for over 20 years and is the veteran of the department. Her institutional knowledge is unbelievable, plus, Haidula has such a nice rapport with the clinic nurses. She definitely made my trip easier.Â
Since this project is under the Ministry of Health, we had to travel in the official 4x4. Sweet. I could have flown up north to meet Haidula there, but figured the ride up would allow us to get to know each other better and to have the chance to review the study protocol. I forgot to mention that the first leg of the trip was a 12 hour drive. Yikes. It would just be Haidula, myself, and the ministry driver Kiwasha. 12 hours. 6am to 6pm. Plenty of time to find out how we would get along on the rest of the study trip, which would last about two weeks. That initial drive turned out to be a great decision though, and by the time we made it to the first clinic, we were the best of buddies, which the health workers could immediately sense. The nurses had automatic trust and comfort with me, when they saw I had a good working relationship with Haidula. It was a tremendous advantage and allowed for candid dialogue with the nurses, and more accurate information for the study. I felt so lucky to have that connection established with them, and lots of credit to Haidula. A huge first step.
During those long trips, I had the chance to befriend our driver, Kiwasha, as well. We shared snacks, stories, and music. We would listen to his Herero mixes and then would switch over to my tunes. I tried to limit my music, because I thought he wouldn't want to listen it, but he actually kept asking for more! (He had Peter, Bjorn & John and Fleet Foxes on repeat. Too funny watching this old African man bob his head to those guys). A highlight to the drives without a doubt. Another road trip memory that sticks out in my mind is when Haidula offered me a âsnackâ she prepared. I said yes please, and then I see her take out a whole fish. Didnât see that coming. I of course didnât want to offend her right at the start of our time together, so there I was in the front seat of the ministry 4x4, eating a foot-long fish with my hands. Next, I washed it down with a lemon from her garden. Sure, why not.Â
As a matter of fact, most of the meals we ate were on the road, which gave me the chance to try some of the local fair. Here is Haidula, at a road side vendor loading us up. She knows how to find the quality items:
Here we bought some meat, spinach, and mahango. Mahango, or pap, is the traditional starch source for most northern Namibians, and is like a porridge. Like most starches it is as good as the sauce you smother it in. Kiwasha was our taste tester, and below, he is picking out some more fish.Â
First the perusal:
Then the sampling:
Then a satisfied purchase:
For our travel route, we would go to the furthest clinic first, in the extreme Northeast of the country, in the small strip of the Caprivi region. This takes us basically to the heart of southern Africa. Like we do, hold out your left hand, palm flat and open, fingers pointing down and thumb sticking out to the right. That is basically the shape of Namibia, and the thumb is Caprivi.
I was really excited to get out to Caprivi because it is a real unique area of Namibia. The strip has its own distinctive history before and through Namibiaâs battle for independence. More on Caprivi when I have a more extensive trip there. This time around I was limited in time because of the tight clinic visit schedule.
Due to its northeastern location, wedged between the Zambezi and Kwando Rivers, Caprivi is more densely vegetated compared to its neighboring regions, which adds to its charm:
It was also exciting to see the village homes nestled between the trees:
The northeast of Namibia is filled with traditional homesteads having these characteristic thatched roofs. They were representative of the area, and I was impressed with their strong construction!
We left early in the morning, so we could try to reach Katima Mulilo, the Caprivi capital by sundown. You do not want to be stuck on the road at night in Namibia, it is definitely frowned upon because of the danger in hitting an animal. (Hitting a warthog at 80 mph is like crashing into a brick wall, and has totaled many vehicles here). This danger was intensified in Caprivi because of the dense vegetation and risk of larger animals crossing the road...
 As we entered the strip, we kept seeing warning signs for elephants. Midday you would probably not see any, since they will most likely be eating or drinking at a water source. But since sundown was approaching, there was a chance we could see some elephants crossing the street to go back to their home after their drinking and dining sessions for the day.Â
One of my favorite road signs, all along the strip:
I was on high alert and excited, but Kiwasha was not. He knows the true danger associated with the wild elephants, and if you crossed the wrong one, they have the strength to just toss the vehicle on its side. My eyes were burning, but on we drove and no sight of our giant friends. However as soon as we were ready to leave the thin strip to the district around Katima, we caught my favorite animals!
My first look at wild elephants:
It was a whole family, complete with some "toddlers". Kiwasha, was not going to hang around. We were already gambling with sundown, so had to keep moving. Still had the opportunity to snap some shots:
It was a special moment, and I think I will never get tired of seeing elephants in the wild. I think they are such amazing and dignified animals, I could watch them for days. Here is my last glimpse, at my first look at elephants in Namibia:
Another added bonus of visiting Caprivi, is that my good friend, Lande, is stationed in Katima for the Spanish Red Cross. I had the chance to crash at his place while up there, and to grab a beer on the edge of the Zembezi River (no hippo or croc sightings, but next time around!...). If we cant squeeze in a trip this month, next year Lande and I will venture over to Zambia and Zimbabwe to catch a glimpse of (and get drenched by) Victoria Falls. Canât wait, it is a must.Â
So, back to business. Our first health facility was Bukalo. This was located deep in Caprivi and was a big and busy clinic, servicing a large population. Â
On the map below, Bukalo is represented by the red pin furthest to the right. On this map, they actually label the areas at risk of flooding in blue, and you can get an idea of how much of the Caprivi tip can get submerged:Â
âBigâ clinic meant 3 observation rooms, a waiting room inside, and 3 nurses on staff. I liked the nurses instantly. They were so kind, inviting, and respectful. I was also quite surprised to see that two of the three nurses were males. Good for Namibia. There was actually a decent representation of male nurses I saw on my trip, and was happy to see this adopted and accepted in the country. How progressive. (Human resources is an extreme issue in Namibia, being the second least dense population in the world, and the health facilities need all the help they can get. One of the biggest deterrents to quality of care is simply the lack of health care workers.)
So first thing, after all our greetings, was to go over the reasoning for the study, why their clinic was chosen, and to review the protocol and methodology. We wanted them to feel proud that their health facility was chosen, that it will represent the whole region, and the information they would provide would not only help their individual clinic but all clinics in Namibia. They were definitely excited, and again, made my work that much easier.
We arrived at Bukalo on a Monday though, and that is definitely the busiest clinic day. To not disturb the flow of patients, we decided to come back early the next morning to do the practice rounds. These were a ton of fun, and the nurses were so attentive to the study protocol, I couldnât have been happier with their involvement. At Bukalo, with our extra time in the morning, we trained every nurse on the study and all switched being a practice malaria patient. Here is the head nurse, Meme Masurle, and nurse Jason going through a practice round:
We went through the mock visits, but also re-trained the nurses on using the RDTs. Here is Meme and Jason having fun with the training:
I would play the malaria patient most of the time, and canât tell you how many times my fingers were pricked those few weeks. They did a great job though, and at least I know for certain I donât have malaria!
Here is a breakdown on the study methodology:
Clinic attendees will be explained the study while in the waiting room. When the patients with fever or history of fever within the past 2 days come to see the clinic clinician they will be asked if they would like to take part in the study. If they agree they will sign or thumb print the attached consent form. All patients will have their axillary (armpit) temperature recorded. During the normal screening, the clinician will also complete a brief questionnaire including demographic data, malaria risk and history of the current illness. Following the questionnaire all patients will be tested with a RDT. The results of the tests will be noted in the case report form and the patient treated according to results. These RDTs were kept for us, in plastic bags with some silica gel beads to preserve the blood samples. Here is my colleague Stark laughing at our ridiculous task of pre-loading 500 bags with silica gel. This took us a whole afternoon, the week before I left for the trip:
We will have our colleagues at the University of Namibia investigate the RDTs, using some lab techniques to examine the parasite genome and to see which malaria parasite species we were dealing with, and also to serve as a quality assurance check on the RDTs, to determine if the patient was in fact positive or negative. Since we were using the patientsâ blood for further studies, we wanted to ensure the health workers began using consent forms, mostly as I way to explain to the patients what exactly the study was about and how their blood will be used. This is a common practice in the States, but definitely was an extra step for these clinics. We didnât receive any objection to this though, and the nurses had fun doing the practice rounds of the consent process. It was fun for me too, as the public health nerd!Â
Here is nurse Michael, and Haidula going through a mock consent process:
 Along with reviewing the protocol and practicing the study procedures, I would do a brief structured interview with the head nurse about diagnostic practices. The information gathered from the interviews will be examined to help identify barriers to diagnosis adherence and to estimate the additional capacity required to operationalize the "test all feversâ algorithm in this zone. I asked the nurses about their view on malaria diagnosis practices, their experience with malaria over the years, opinions of RDTs and their effectiveness, what they should do if the fever is not due to malaria, the structure of the work day, how many patients they see on average per day, if they feel over or under worked, if they receive pressure from patients to treat fever for malaria, etc. I would also do a quick rundown on what they look for during their examinations (signs and symptoms that would make them the most concerned for the patient), and would check the clinic for their supply of diagnostic tools. The interview process was one of my favorite parts of the study and I really enjoyed hearing the nurses' perspectives.Â
I canât be making comments on the results of this study yet, since we are still compiling the data, but what I can say is that I was quite impressed with the nursesâ malaria diagnosis knowledge, and overall skill. I think all the clinics main limitations came in differential diagnosis, i.e. handling fever cases that are NOT malaria. Sometimes this was simply due to not having the proper tools or support. A few clinics just needed basic items like stethoscopes to diagnose their patients properly when they are confirmed negative for malaria.
After our quick Caprivi trip, off we went to the neighboring Kavango region. This was another interesting part of Namibia, as its Northern border is aligned with the Kavango River, separating that side of Namibia from Angola. The capital is Rundu, which is right on the river.
For some reason, seeing this long body of water made it hit home that I was in Africa. You could see people on the shore washing their children, the vegetation was different, and the sounds were fuller with the calls of birds and animals.
I loved that right across the river was Angola. It was so close, I could hear the Portuguese being spoken by the women cleaning their clothes:
It was certainly a contrast to the arid countryside found in ž of Namibia. Not to mention, my lodge there had some amazing sunsets. My pictures cannot give this sun justice. It was such a giant red orb sinking over Angola, I would sit and watch its decent every evening:
I have guaranteed eye damage from staring too long. My pictures cant capture this experience, but hopefully you can get an appreciation of the colors and tone of the evenings I had in Rundu:
In Kavango we had our smallest clinic, and largest health center. These were hours outside of Rundu, in the middle of the Nyangana and Ndonga districts, at the top of Namibia.
Here are a few shots from the villages in the area:
For the Portuguese family: Como a ilha Terceira, hĂĄ mais vacas do que pessoas!
The heath center, Rupara, even had in-patient capabilities, an ambulance, and 6 nurses on staff at one time. This is the largest health facility for hundreds of miles. This setup is a massive machine. In complete contrast was our little Ndonga clinic. This was run by one nurse, our sweet old Kaulura. She has been working as a nurse for over 40 years, and was such a cute little lady. All smiles. This protocol was a bit overwhelming for her, so we gave her an additional visit to have some more practice. I regret not taking a picture, since she was one of my favorites, but it didnât feel appropriate in the moment. Maybe during my follow up visit this month, weâll see... One precious thing Iâll never forget, was how she reacted to our stipend we provided. When we said that her clinic was chosen and that we were going to pay her extra (each head nurse received a small payment from CHAI for their service and extra work that comes along with the study), she became emotional. She was so honored to be chosen, and was so thankful for the extra funds, that she began to cry. She thanked God of course, claimed He brought me to her. She wouldnât let go of my hand for the rest of the visit, which was tough for me, since all my friends know how much I talk with my hands. Wonât ever forget it.  She wants to do such a good job on the study, doesnât want to let us down, but I am already so proud of her work, just hope we can get Kaulura the extra support she needs. She sees, on average, 50 patients per day, in her little, one room clinic. This clinic just had space for her desk and the patient bed, and that is it. All the patients wait outside in a line, tolerantly. What a sight. She is completely overworked, yet did not complain, just stated it as a matter of fact. We are trying to see if we can get a rotation from the district to help her, at least on the busy days early in the week. Just by choosing her clinic for this study, Kaulura is getting noticed more at the district level, especially after we debriefed the local health department staff. No matter the results of the study, I feel good knowing she will receive a bit more attention and appreciation.
We closed on the Dx Algorithm Study with our trip to the Onesi health center in the Omusati region. This area I am familiar with, since it is close to the districts where I do my cross-border work with Angola, as well as a region I visited during the flooding assessment.
Onesi was another busy health facility with a great staff. Here it is, under a Namibian baobab tree:
 There was a nice young nurse from Kenya stationed there who had worked with CHAI on an HIV project in East Africa. He was happy to be a part of another CHAI study, and hopes to go to school for epidemiology! He was full of questions, and I really enjoyed his enthusiasm. It reminded me of my first spark in public health and felt good to encourage him.
The head nurse, Mary, was such a lovely lady and she worked outside the box. She even had her own mini project, where she would teach mothers how to grow and cook the local foods. I was so impressed, and she felt proud. She deserves credit for showing initiative.
Here is a picture of Meme Mary with her teaching sample jars:
Onesi so far has had the most fevers in the last few months, at 82, but only 3 positive for malaria! So far so good. We expected low numbers during the last few months, because it was the winter low season. Now as the temp rises, we will see more cases. This study trip was in July (told you I am behind on these posts) which was in the middle of the Namibia winter. As I just mentioned, this is the low malaria season but we decided to begin the study at this time so that we can give the nurses proper training when their days are less hampered with cases. By the time the height of the season would arrive, they would have a good understanding and comfort with the study protocol. Another benefit of starting this study in the winter, was to show the clinic nurses how many fevers will come in that are NOT malaria.Â
This trip was long with all the driving (I think we drove about 2000 miles, over 3000 Km, in one week) in between each region, visits to the district offices for preliminary meetings and debriefings, not to mention the actual time to reach the clinics. At the minimum, we spent one full day at each health facility to observe the patient care, perform our interviews, do the practice rounds for the study, and to assess their diagnostic tools and capabilities. It was an exhausting trip, but completely worth it.
I only had a chance to see 4 clinics during the Dx Algorithm Study, so very hard to generalize to all clinics in Namibia. Some could be doing better, some could be doing worse, but it least it gave me another opportunity to experience Namibia's health care system first-hand. The knowledge I gained from that trip has already been so valuable and will continue to influence my next steps here. This month and next I will be conducting another similar diagnosis study in some new clinics, and as this gained knowledge helps guide my personal public health growth, it will more importantly help steer the national malaria program in the right direction and to help us chose the right projects and interventions that will lead to the greatest impact in malaria elimination. I hope this post gives an idea of the kind of work I am dong here. We will have many more similar field trips, but this will hold the greatest weight for me. It was my first exposure to the Northeast endemic zones and the first time I was really directing a study. A special moment for work, and life, and I look forward to the next battles against malaria.Â
"Much good work is lost for the lack of a little more."
-Â Harriman
Another glimpse of DeadvleiÂ
Another glimpse of Sossusvlei

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The journey to Sossusvlei â part 2: giant dunes and dead trees.
Sossusvlei: dramatic, strange, beautiful. One of the top places I have seen, it is home to some of the largest sand dunes in the world. Also, the reddest! They are auburn in color due to the oxidized iron found in the sand. To round off the statistics, these ginger giants happen to be some of the oldest in the world as well (the average age being 5 million years old, some reaching 50 million). The older the dune, the more intense the red. They are simply spectacular. Â
The name Sossusvlei is of mixed origin, and roughly means "dead end marsh". Vlei is the Afrikaans word for "marsh", while sossus is Nama for "no return" or "dead end". Here is a satellite shot to have an idea of the region. In the image, where the desert is parted and the white gash remains, is Sossusvlei.
It was like being transported to another planet where everything defies reality; the colors, the scale, the physical contradictions of life in the desert. It is one of the âmustsâ when coming to Namibia, with no rationalization necessary. Not only was it one of the more beautiful and unique landscapes I have ever experienced, but it was also one of the most liberating places to explore. It is hard to believe that such a place exists, and it is forever burned into my brain and heart (and hard drive, now that I have 1/5 of it full of Sossusvlei photos).
We continue this installment with Day 2.
To appreciate the colors of the dunes (to get the best lighting and contrast), you have to start your trek at sunrise. Yes please! Also, you want to begin your excursion early before the intense sun slows you down. Sean and I (and Penelope) started our morning at 4:30, with a quick cookie and cup of tea. Off we went, racing against the rising sun:
I was slightly disappointed to see a line of cars waiting at the Sossusvlei national park gate when we arrived. From my last post, you hopefully got an idea of how few people we saw on the trek to reach here. Why am I seeing cars and bodies now?! Nevertheless, another part of me felt some slight bond to these groups. They also made the same pilgrimage, and all had some sort of excitement and appreciation for what they were about to see. At the gate, you could really feel the energy in the air. Or perhaps that was just impatienceâŚ
That being said, as soon as we strayed from some of the major sites within the park, you could truly disappear and not see another living soul. Human soul that is, because this desert was home to lots of life. It was a real privilege to witness some of the wild animals in this barren landscape. Here is our first friend we spotted, only 20 Km in through the gate.
Still hiding:
That's better:
This is the Gemsbok (Oryx), a national symbol of Namibia, represented on their coat of arms. They say the oryx embodies courage, elegance and pride. I couldnât agree more, and it is one of my favorite animals in Namibia. It tastes amazing too!
We timed the Sossusvlei trip after the flood season this year, allowing a very rare and unique experience; to see plants and pools of water in the desert! The tall grasses are what we sighted first, as they surrounded the dunes, creating golden carpets that crept up the sand walls. This gave some wonderful backdrops, especially when some ostriches graced our presence! I was able to catch a pair before they skipped away. Ostriches are fast and funny animals. âThey taste amazing tooâ. Â
Soon we made it to the famous âDune 45â. It is imaginatively named after itâs location; the 45 Km mark on the road into Sossusvlei. I was trying to track the distance in the car, which I soon realized was foolish, because you really cant miss it:
It is thought to be âthe most photographed dune in the worldâ, due to its distinctive S-shaped face, proximity to the road, and relatively easy climb. It is definitely one of the proud showstoppers in travel material about Namibia.Â
It is the initiation dune, to prepare you for the more challenging hikes deep in Sossusvlei. Dune 45 is actually one of the smaller dunes in the area, but be sure to look at it again in the photo above, in relation to the size of the trees... "Inconceivable!" (a quick shout-out to The Princess Bride).Â
Dune 45 had the highest concentration of tourists in the area but it did not take away from the enjoyment. Everyone had a giddy smile on their face, including myself, as they prepared to climb the dune. It was still quite early in the morning; consequently, the sand was still cool. So off the shoes went and the hike was done barefoot. A real treat, and I savored those steps.
The colors were even more vivid at the early hours. We were fortunate with the timing of our trip as well, seeing blue skies, dotted with clouds. Clear, sharp landscapes after the rainy season. If I were to take this trip now, in the dry winter, there would just be muted skies and too much wind.
Here is Sean, leading the way:
It is hard to capture the height of these sand mountains, especially the way the landscapes and colors bled into each other. There were some surreal views, and I let myself have the time to process and register the alien vistas.Â
Views from the top of Dune 45:
The way down:
After we saturated our brain with Dune 45, Penelope took us as far as we could go, arriving at the âparking areaâ before the road becomes all sand. "Sossusvlei" is actually the dried salt pan at the end of this sand route but they use the name to refer to all the surrounding area of dunes and Deadvlei (which we will get to in a bit). Â
The 2x4s canât go any further at this point, and if you are brave enough, you can venture on with a good 4x4. There are âland rover taxisâ that can pick you up for the final 5km of sand to reach the heart of the vlei. Sean and I decided to hike this last bit, get more of the âlost fool in the desertâ feel. Â Along the way we had the chance to experience more biology in this unique, post-flood Sossusvlei. You could see patches of flowers sprouting from the baked ground, and a small family of sprinkbok enjoying the green in the desert. âThey taste amazing tooâ. Last time Iâll say it, I swear.Â
One of the goals for the Sossusvlei trip was to hike the tallest dune in the area (one of the largest in the world) holding the nickname Big Daddy. It is about 380 meters high, meaning it would reach the top of the empire state building. Incredible. By the time we made it there that day, it was just too hot to attempt the hike. We did not want to rush the battle with the colossus either, so we would face Big Daddy first thing the next morningâŚ
Below is the "small" side of Big Daddy, with a few more ostriches thrown in for fun:
So we gave ourselves the chance to close out the afternoon with a peek at the haunting Deadvlei. It was more foreign than anywhere I have been, and it felt as if I was walking through some drug-induced, sci-fi dream.Â
Our first glimpse:
 To reach it, you have to hike over more dunes for about a mile, from the center of Sossusvlei. It is completely isolated and surrounded by the largest dunes in the area, including Big Daddy. Deadvlei used to be a lush oasis, but in the ancient past, those encroaching dunes cut it off from the then flooding Tsauchab river, consuming the area and draining the vlei of any life support. It is now home to just white clay, the massive red dune walls, and dead camel thorn trees, scorched black from the sun:
These camel thorns are all that remain. They are not petrified, just completely dried to the core, leaving them paralyzed in time. The trees have remained in these eerie positions for over 900 years...
What a vision. It is a ghostly wasteland, but a photographerâs paradise, and I will continue to post more of these pictures throughout my stay in Namibia.Â
The wall of Big Daddy in the background:
Solitude:Â
The heat of the sun was becoming intense, especially in the middle of the graveyard-oven that is Deadvlei, so we decided to close with a stop at the Sesriem Canyon. This was the added bonus for the day, in celebration of not getting lost in the desert. Sesriem is located close to the Sossusvlei gate, and would give us some shelter from the sun with its high rock walls:Â
That would do it for Day 2. A pleasantly packed day, we easily passed out when we made it back to the homestead for sundown:
Day 3, the finale.Â
Our final Sossusvlei day was all about Big Daddy. We were ready to jet straight to the dune that morning, but the deeper we went into the park, the foggier it became!
Fog is rarely seen here, but when it does appear, it usually dissipates with the morning sun. Today it was sticking around, which gave us some more atypical desert shots.
So by the time we made it to Big Daddy, he was completely hiding in the mist.
As we reached the east face of the dune (the easy side to climb), we were able to find the pool of water that should not exist. It was a magical sight, and we knew that this mini-oasis would soon disappear:
 We couldn't see much at this point, and were gambling that the clouds would open once we reached the top. We decided to go for it. Off we went, only able to follow the dune ridge. It was just silence. Amazing to see the dune disappear through the clouds, not knowing what we would witness when we emerged...
Big D was one of the most exhilarating hikes I have done, and I already cant wait to climb it again. Any friend that visits me will be dragged to this spot, sorry, no democracy on the dunes.  Â
We took some breaks along the way at some curves, but the hike was not too bad at all, probably thanks to our fog protection. As we continued, the clouds began to break and we were finally able to get a glimpse of our magnificent surroundings!
A hidden salt pan:
The Naukluft mountain range emerging in the distance:
About an hour later, there we were, on the top of Big D:Â
In the photo above, you can see Deadvlei to the left of Big Daddy, the pool to the right, and in the distance is the Sossusvlei pan. Also Sean in the middle, who agreed to stay put for this shot.Â
When the fog cleared at the top, we were surprised to find people! A pleasant, little German family gambled with the fog as well that morning, and we all shared in our excitement of conquering the dune:
(Weeks later I would run into the German dad at a store in Windhoek, with us both doing double-takes and laughing, seeing each other in work attire after meeting in desert-gear on top of a dune in Sossusvlei. As I have mentioned before, Namibia can feel like a small place!) Â
We stayed up top for awhile, taking in all the views (and eating lots of snacks). The surrounding sand seas were stunning, and I could get lost in those landscapes for hours.Â
When we snapped out of the Big Daddy trance, instead of following the gradual path back, we ran down the steep face to Deadvlei:Â
Here is Sean, planted in the wall:
I had to get one last glimpse of those trees before heading back to the cityâŚ
Here I am, all cheery after the hike:
It is actually a shame that most of the Namibians I come across have never been to Sossusvlei. The Namibians know what beauty is found inside their country, I just wish they had the chance to see some of these places with their own eyes. It is the reality here, but should not be an experience open to just visiting backpackers, rich, retired couples, or silly Portalians. There was one Namibian woman we met in Sesriem canyon though, that made it here for her first time. She was middle-aged and had lived in Namibia all her life. She was like a kid in a candy store, so excited and proud of her trip and her country. Rightfully so, and it was lovely to see. Tourism is the fastest growing sector in Namibia now, and as the country grows, it will be wonderful to see these sites open to more nationals. That tourism always comes at a price though, and part of the awesomeness of Sossusvlei is its beautiful desolation...Â
All in all, it was a perfect adventure, and I will never forget my first trek to (and through) Sossusvlei. I want to make it a point to come back several times during my Namibia stay, at least to mark the end of my time here. I donât think any of my words could give Sossusvlei justice, but I hope this installment gave you a sense of it's enchantment.
"The desert is beautiful," the little prince added. I have always loved the desert. One sits down on a desert sand dune, sees nothing, hears nothing. Yet through the silence something throbs, and gleams...
 "Yes," I said to the little prince. "The house, the stars, the desert--what gives them their beauty is something that is invisible!"
- Antoine de Saint-ExupÊry,  Le Petit Prince
The journey to Sossusvlei â part 1: cars and horses.
I have just returned from a rewarding road trip for work, and now time to play catch up on life: Emails, blog posts, grocery shopping. The order depends on the emptiness of my tummy. My work trip focused on a malaria diagnosis study we are conducting in rural clinics, and I was delighted with the warm reception, and impressed by the nursesâ abilities and enthusiasm for the study. Excitement on both our parts gives me confidence in getting some valuable results. I still need to let this work outing marinate for a bit (meaning I have to sort out the hundreds of pics and notes) so I will rewind and share another trip I took. This one is overdue.
From those work trips to weekend trips, I am grateful to already have many memorable moments and adventures in my brief time in Namibia. It is hard to really label the best so far; they are all unique, and are all important colors to my all-encompassing Namibia painting. However, one trip I feel could surpass the rest, and could mark as a favorite in life, was my trek to Sossusvlei (SO-sus-vlay). Here are some sneak previews:
 Dune 45
The deadvlei
It is another world completely, and the freedom to explore that space was incredible and liberating. There were just too many sights to process, and to give the Sossusvlei trip the justice it deserves, I had to separate it into multiple blog entries. The trek to reach Sossusvlei was an experience in itself, and is the subject of part 1.
Namibia is filled with some breathtaking and symbolic places. Inconveniently, they are separated by a vast countryside. That is a champagne problem though. Yes, the countryside is vast, but it is also beautiful. The inconvenient distance turns into an added bonus, affording travelers the opportunity to pass through areas they would not get the chance to appreciate otherwise. After I arrived to Namibia, I invested in a vehicle that could allow me to explore some of these hard to reach places. How could I not try? I think that was part of the excitement of the Sossusvlei trek, it was my first driving journey with Penelope (my car. Yes, I named her. She deserved it after she completed this test voyage). So, one day after my trip to the flood zones, I would be driving to a desert. Namibia is a land of stark contrasts, without a doubt.
My expat buddy, Sean, braved the trip with me and once we got off the main road from the city, it was a 7 hour, off-road adventure. Was certainly the longest trip I have ever done without seeing any pavement. Just gravel, sand, and mud. Lots of mud. We were stuck in a few downpours on the way, and in the shot below, I was lucky enough to take my camera out in time to catch one wall of water as it approached:
 There is something quite invigorating about driving on an unfamiliar dirt road, in the middle of a storm, on the way to a place you have only seen from pages in National Geographic. All the senses were on high alert. It was exciting testing Penelopeâs limits, and I was very proud of her for getting us there.Â
Here she is, a tad dirty. And me, a tad giddy:
The winding road took us South, away from water, and away from people. As I have mentioned to some of you before, Namibia has the second lowest population density in the world, only behind Mongolia. 2 million people total for the entire country. That is like the equivalent of the metropolitan area of Boston scattered over a space the size of two Californias. I saw more mountain ranges on the road than people and in those 7 hours, I could still use my fingers to count all the cars I saw.
 After the slow, rainy drive, we were rewarded with some perfect skies for the rest of our trip:Â
The only real âtownâ we passed through was Solitaire. I put town in quotes, because 1) I over-quote, and 2) it really is just a gas station with a few scattered buildings around it. That being said, Solitaire is still an enjoyable, quirky spot. A very happy vibe floats through the air here, maybe due to all the excited people that have successfully made it that far, all realizing that they will be reaching Sossusvlei soon enough. All dusty smiles from everyone. Solitaireâs charm also comes from its time-warping skills, and probably looks quite similar to what it was like in the 60s. Flung around town were some classic car wrecks, which, in combination with their surroundings, made for some pleasant pictures:
I want to fix up this truck. Who's with me?Â
The pretty cacti helped Solitaire's aesthetics too:
Quick credit to Sean: Since our trip took place right after my flood tour, Sean was awesome enough to do all the food shopping. We had my favorite snack (dried mango. It probably should have its own section in my personal food pyramid), biltong (South African beef jerky. An essential road trip item), tons of emergency water, bread, more meat, and not to mention the smelliest cheese I have ever experienced. The cheese was tolerable and actually quite delicious on day 1, but after a desert-day later, it was toxic. I think I can still smell it. Sean is still laughing.
So, on we went, Sean, Penelope, the cheese, and I, to the great unknown:
By this point, the views were getting more and more spectacular, as we approached the territory where Sossusvlei hides. Most of the pics in this blog post come from the Namib-Naukluft National Park, which is creatively named by the Namib desert and Naukluft mountain range that it encompasses. This area makes it the largest game park in Africa and the 4th largest in the world. It is massive, epic, and stunning. Overwhelmingly large, it will take many visits to explore.
So we blasted through the Namib-Naukluft and finally came to the place we would call home during our trip, the Dessert Homestead. I loved this place, and will definitely take my visitors. The homestead consisted of private wood/clay huts lined up near the old, rustic farmhouse that served as dining room and meeting spot. All the food we had was homemade. The vegetables came right from their gardens and the breads right from the oven. The smells were amazing. At least better than Seanâs cheese.
We were welcomed with some passion fruit juice (another lifeline of mine) and could not have been happier to arrive. The views that swallowed us were the Naukluft mountain range and the fields of gold that wrapped them. Sting would be impressed, and would write a sequel-song. Here are some of the homestead sights:
Home away from home, away from home:
Hooray malaria nets! Good job, homestead:Â
Backyard:Â
 After the long drive, I didnât have much time to rest and soak in our new home. The farm arranges sunset horseback rides, and could you say no to that? So 20 min after our arrival, we traded in Penelope for sea biscuit.
We were quite impressed with our Namibian horses, and I must admit, I was rather surprised at their quality. Well done, Namibia. My horse and I bonded, probably over our mutual love of the open fields, and had a great stroll together.
It was such a shift from our adrenaline-pumping, loud drive. To take in the scenes from the gentle pace of the horse was a perfect way to cap off the day. As I gazed around, I kept imagining what lay beyond the mountain ridges, in anticipation of my trek through Sossusvlei the next day, and I tried to grasp the true extent of the vast space that encircled me.
The ride was about two hours, which gave me enough time to experiment with my camera, albeit alittle comical on a horse (I think most of my shots were sideways, blurry, and pointed at the grass). I wanted to get the right tone and mood of the ride, and here were some of my attempts:
 Warning: cheesy reflection time. While I was ridiculously trying to take those pictures while riding a horse, I started to wake up. There I was, straining so hard to etch the experience in my mind (and to capture it all in a picture) that I was letting it all float by. Attempting to process the moment only aided in accelerating it; the exact opposite of which I was trying to do. I forgot to just let it all happen, and just allow myself to enjoy the ride. In one of my favorite travel books, Blue Highways, the Author William Least Heat-Moon says âOther than to amuse himself, why should a man pretend to know where he's going or understand what he sees?â
Even with our access to photographs, blogs, novels, and videos, it is funny what memories decide to stick around. Some random happenings stay vivid and distinct, while so many favorite moments become clouded images with lost details. I wish we could control all the memories we want to keep. However, even in the losing battle against memory and time, some feelings and impressions hold true. I knew even as I was having the internal struggle of âseizing the momentâ that the dayâs views and thoughts will inevitably fade, and will begin to dilute and blend into one collective impression. At the end of it all, I guess all our experiences and observations will also merge and ripen over the years. They help make and remake us though, and maybe those impressions and feelings are the things that should be treasured the most, not every aching detail.Â
Wish I could have shared that ride and sunset with all of you, and hope these last pictures help capture the impressions I felt, not just create a record of events.
 I keep that in mind as we finally made it to our destination; a table and chairs in the middle the open field, complete with snacks and drinks. A perfect arrangement set by the homestead staff to enhance the perfect day.Â
 We arrived just as the sun was coating the landscape in honey, and it was superb.
Whether I really appreciated the experience to its fullest, I felt fortunate enough to try. I let myself just watch that sunset, take some pictures, pet that horse, and remember that life, even as it relentlessly moves forward, is sweet.
A photograph is usually looked at - seldom looked into. -Ansel Adams
On the road... #13
Sunset #3 - Windhoek
harnas = animal bliss
Time to tame an entry. As uplifting and pleasant as my last post was, it is good for me to change gears with this blog every so often. Donât get me wrong, my last post, regarding the flooding, is the keystone to my time here in Namibia. It is where I question the significance of my work, the erratic nature of public health, and the futility of humanitarian work in Africa. I can only get so much of that before my head overheats. Now letâs go play with animals.
I am in Africa. I forget that sometimes with the ease of life in Windhoek. Then I get bursts of reminders when I visit the northern villages, eat some worms or zebra, or scale some sanddunes with ostriches running below me. And that is a big African reminder. Animals. Lots of them. I think I have seen more diversity in wild life here in 3 months than in all my years combined. And more to come. I havenât even been to the biggest game reserve in the North (It is called Etosha, and I am waiting for the right time of the year to explore it. You can just self-drive-safari through the national park, watching animals like elephants and giraffes just relaxing by the water holes, sipping drinks, and avoiding rhinos. Maybe I am waiting for some Boston visitors to venture there? hint hint). All in good time, and to build up to the grand scale of Etosha, I had a nice practice round with my trip to Harnas.
Harnas is a farm? A zoo? An animal playground? Wild life sanctuary? Sure. It is hard to categorize Harnas, but I do know that it is special. It is a wildlife foundation where hurt, orphaned, or outcast animals can be rehabilitated and trained to be released again into the wild. Fantastic. Namibia is a great supporter of this, and in fact, was one of the first countries to write animal conservation right into its constitution. The country realizes the value and beauty of its wildlife and seeks to preserve this precious ecosystem. Well done, Nam. Harnas is one of the leading organizations responsible for this preservation and its aim is âto protect all forms of life, ensuring endurance and sustainabilityâ. A âharnasâ in Afrikaans means âa protective breastplate or armor worn into battleâ, and it is a symbol for the foundationâs mission. It focuses on the local big cats: Lions, cheetahs, and the more rare leopard, but also serves to protect us âanimalsâ. On their land they have a farm and school, keeping the surrounding people mentally and physically nourished. They also have a volunteer program where people from all over the world can come and live with, learn about, and help take care of the animals.
Harnas has its fences but as I mentioned, their system is designed for animals not ready for the wild yet. The rehabilitating animals are moved into bigger and bigger areas as the animals get stronger. It reaches the point of ridiculously large areas, acres and acres for the predators to learn to hunt and survive with some prey thrown in. Also, there are areas of the property where the animals and humans simply hang out together. Crazy. The space is just too vast to see it all, and there are more than 43 mammal, 13 bird, and 6 reptile species free to roam the grounds.
Two Oryx and a Springbok. Some of my favorite meals:
What are you doing there...
Timon! Harnas is located at the edge of the Kalahari, where meerkats live:Â
Namibian hornbill. Zazu:
I have to give credit where credit is due, and I would not have gone to Harnas if my two guests that weekend, Nicole and Allison, did not request it.Â
Both were colleagues/friends with one of my colleagues/friends, and now we might become colleagues/friends ourselves. After our bonding over large meals and large animals, I think we have the friendship part all set. We are now working on the colleague part. It might happen too, since Nicole and Allison were visiting to work with the First Lady of Namibia on one of her projects. Thanks to them, I had the honor of meeting Mrs. Pohamba, the First Lady, in person.
She is a lovely woman who was a midwife before her presidential days, and that is where her heart remains. She is in the process of rebuilding and setting up new birthing shelters and farms for some communities in the North. Nicole is helping to facilitate this. She works for an organization that works with First Ladies around the world to empower and assist them in projects to concentrate their influence and capabilities into constructive development in their home countries. Sweet. Allison has the traveler spirit after her many adventures in life, and the international health itch. She might be working with Nicole on some of these future projects, so she happily came along for the ride. After Nicole and Allison are back in the states, I will be the man on the ground to keep the energy flowing and serve as intermediary for the First Ladyâs organization and Nicoleâs back in the states (Iâll just squeeze that in between malaria and safaris).
So the least I could do for Nicole and Allison was to grant their wish to see some big cats. So we jumped in my car and did a crazy night drive for about 4 hours east, to Harnas, close to the Botswana border. Highlight of the trip was getting a phone call from the foundation saying: âWhen you arrive at the gate, please stay in the car, we just released some leopardsâŚ.â.  Then as we proceeded, I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up in a crowd of ostriches. They just stared at me, probably thinking, âsmooth move pal, let us restâ.
So the next morning we went on a feeding tour! First task: letâs go give our old leftover remains of dinner slop to the baboons:Â
Ok. Our guide (also named Etosha) drove on, while our volunteer girls in the back tossed the slop over the fence while we watched the baboons go monkey-brains all over the food. Too much fun.
Next stop, the lion pens. What a highlight. I am a sucker for the lions. Long live the king.
I suggest my veggie buddies should probably scroll by the next few pics⌠Does anyone remember Jurassic park when they release the goat to lure out the t-rex? Ya, I was getting flashes of that as the guide lugged donkey legs over the pen fence and watched the lions come out of the bush to rip into the meat:
He finished that leg off in 3 mins:
This guy took his time:
Lions. Are. Awesome. Period. And cheetahs are, well, awesome. The next part of the experience was so exhilarating. I was wired. We had the chance to drive our truck right into the cheetah territory! What?
Our guide Etosha warned us with, âyes, just be intimidating if the cats get aggressiveâ. Right. But they have claws, Etosha. âits ok, I have a stick.â Gulp.
âOh and yes, do not turn your back on the animalsâ, as the cheetahs begin to hop on and off our vehicle and come from every direction on the road.
Cheetahs, cheetahs everywhere:
Hi there:
Maybe 30 cheetahs?? Yikes. One of the most thrilling things I have done so far. Loved seeing those beautiful cats in action:
On our drive to all the lion grounds, we had the chance to see some other fun animals, like our little mono friend here:
Wild dog, a rarity in Namibia:
 I think one of the more striking cats is the caracal, with their sharp tapered ears. Slick:
 (One was just found in a Windhoek mall. Wish I had the chance to see one of these guys running through the shops! They are quite aggressive though, and had to be handled with caution. Thatâs where Harnas comes in, kind of like an African version of animal control).
Couldnât complete a trip to Harnas without trying to get a glimpse of the leopards. Stunning, stunning creatures. So stunning and so dangerous. The Harnas owner, Derek, says that the leopard is the only animal he will not mess with. (Back to the Jurassic Park references, the conversations I had with him reminded me of the Australian hunter guy talk about his fascination with velociraptors). Derek would get right into the lionsâ territory but never the leopards.
In order for us to see the big cat in action, Etosha would take pieces of meat and try tossing them onto the branches of the leopardâs favorite tree. And the leopard cooperated:
And look at this agility!
To finish off the day, we were going to have a âlion roarâ sundowner (happy hour). The guides take us right up to one of the lion pens where we stick around drinking some choice beverages as we await the lion calls.
As the day comes to an end, the lions will begin a cycle of roars, to communicate with each other, indicating their location (and probably to discuss current events and to boast who killed the most springbok that day). The sound is intense. The roars are so powerful and deep. I was quite impressed. The girls have this on tape, and cant wait to get another listen.
Before the lion roar drink though, we were allowed a special treat... Definitely a no-no....
...We had such a great day with our guides, and since we were the only folks around by the time evening rolled by, we had the honor and thrill to pet some of the lions!
We passed out like happy kids thinking of jungle creatures. The next morning we capped off our Harnas adventure with the indulgence of getting up close and personal with our cheetah friends:
 Harnas was a such a wonderful experience, and I definitely plan on taking more guests up there. And now we have built a strong relationship with the owners since we discussed the possibility of having the foundation collaborate with the First Ladyâs farms in the North. Derek was quite interested, and we have already set up a meeting with him and the First Ladyâs organization. I hope through this, Harnas will get more of a spotlight and praise for their successes, and that more awareness will grow of this special place. Namibia should be proud. Â
"A nation's progress can be judged by how they treat their animals." - Gandhi.Â

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