From Ocean to Ocean

By Caroline Pratt

Appreciating the Durban skyline

Still recovering from the busy month of October, I was exhausted and excited about the last few trips of the semester. While all of the CGEE trips are great, some independent travel has made my study abroad experience so much more impactful. Last weekend I traveled to Durban, South Africa. One of the other students and I caught a plane after class on Friday and made our way to a city so different from Windhoek. Durban, a common tourist destination for South Africans, was like no other South African city we had visited so far. It was so diverse and full of surfers and beach goers. Walking around, I felt just like I was walking down the boardwalk of California. While we were just there for the weekend, we filled our time with people watching, eating the local cuisines like Bunny Chow (half a loaf of bread filled with curry, one of the most filling meals of my life), and spending time on the beautiful Indian ocean. We also visited the Moses Mabhida Stadium, constructed for the 2010 world cup, and the Ushaka Marine world, the largest aquarium in Africa. It was incredible to have the freedom the explore the city independently and see an entirely different part of South Africa, far different than what we had seen in Joburg, the Eastern Cape, or Cape Town.
 

Coming back on Monday, there was no time to waste with classes and internship Tuesday and Wednesday before the entire group left for Swakopmund. One of my highlights of the week though was visiting the local Mosque in religion. Being Catholic and never having the experience of going to a Mosque before, it was eye opening to see a place of worship that functioned very differently than my own. We spent most of the lecture learning about the history of Islam in Namibia and about the teachings of Islam. With the Muslim community making up such a small percentage of the Namibia population, it was cool to see how they functioned as a minority religion.

 



Becca and I enjoying the Swakopmund Atlantic Ocean

Come Thursday the group headed to Swakopmund, a coastal town on the Atlantic Ocean, known for its German architecture and beautiful beaches. On our first day, we took a tour around town where we saw the many lasting memorabilia to German colonialism. In the center of town, we saw a giant sculpture commemorating the fallen German soldiers and went to the glamourous German cemetery, located just next to the large resting place of the Herero and Nama that died during the genocide, with graves unmarked. In the very corner of the cemetery is the monument to the Hereros and Namas that was removed a few years prior because it ‘smelled’ and was moved back after it received some push back. We then saw the townships and where most of the population of Swakop lives. Laidlaw Peringanda, our tour guide and artists/activist, did a great job of providing a holistic view of Swakop and we saw it for what it was instead of the German tourist town that looks like it could be straight out of the German section of Epcot.

The second day of our trip we spent learning all about foreign investment in Namibia and conservation. We visited Sea Works, a Namibian run fishing factory. We learned about all of the laws and regulations put in place to ensure Namibia benefits from the industry such as 51% of all industry must be Namibian owned. Unfortunately, we went while the factory was closed because Namibia has a law that there can be no fishing done during the month of October. This was great though because it allowed time for employees to return home and still received compensation. Later that day we went to the Namibian Dolphin Project where the two employees were working to do research and help the local industries. 

Group photo during our ATV Dune trip in Swakopmund

On our free day, the entire team went ATVing all around the dunes and I spent the rest of the day enjoying life on the Atlantic. It was truly a week to remember, from the Indian ocean to the Atlantic in just seven days. Study abroad is something.

Week Seven: To Swim in the Storm

By: Annie Dierberger

The view from standing on the dock.
The desert lying just beyond the ocean in the distance.

It was the first Thursday we arrived in Swakopmund, a beautiful city on the coast of Western Namibia, and our frantically absorbing eyes matched the tapping excitement of our feet. For the previous two weeks we had been daydreaming about our trip to Swakopmund, an escape from classes and a routine that we had yearned for at the start of the trip but now craved the absolute abruptness of adventure. That night for dinner we sat in Jetty 1905, a restaurant that sat on the edge of a long wooden dock amidst the ocean. Through the glass of the wall behind us the waves crashed violently below a sky of grey that seemed to disguise itself into the ocean. The weather was dark and ominous and being seated in the middle of the mayhem while classical music played around us felt like someone picking flowers in a warzone. I followed by gaze back to the murmur of conversation within the guests and then up to the bustling movements of the waitresses and waiters. There was a different kind of pandemonium happening inside, a one thickly veiled in misconception. The bright lighting and clinking of glasses seemed to assure me that the roaring ocean just below us was just a figment of my imagination. I swiveled behind me and sure enough, there it was. I looked around the room to see if anyone else was noticing what was happening just outside of the thin glass but there eyes seemed stuck within the confines of the luxury around them. It wouldn’t be until Sunday afternoon until I thought of this night again.

Within the next couple of days we would take full advantage of our fleeting vacation around us. Many people in Windhoek had told us about the town’s stunning beauty but seeing the startling contrast of the vast ocean on one side and the blazing desert on the other was truly magnificent.

Us climbing Dune 7

On Saturday we ventured out and climbed Dune 7, no let me rephrase that, we crawled like confused infants up Dune 7 and then continued to act like children at the top. As we all tumbled down as ungracefully as possible and acquired what seemed to be most of the sand of the desert in our hair and mouth, life at the moment was playing our own sorts of classical music. Sure it was mixed with our shrilling shrieks and belly flopping grunts, but it was a song of bliss nonetheless. As I looked around and saw all of my friends, once tentative strangers in the airport but now close companions, all laughing with giant grins on all of their faces, I couldn’t help but feeling fortunate for our friendship. The tune continued playing as we went ATV’ing the next day in the dunes. All eight of us traveling in a line through miles of sand, and our R.A. Attila trailing dangerously far behind with his scarf billowing through the wind, his upright posture and slow speed making him look like an elderly person on a motorized scooter, weaving through the streets of Paris.

That night we all went to bed smiling from a satisfactory day, a day that was filled with events offered on the front page pamphlet of Swakopmund. The following day we would experience things that weren’t commercialized for the average visitor, things that required a detour off of the main road. It began with a tour through Modesa, the main township in Swakopmund. For those who are unaware what a township is, I will regretfully inform you that they are a commonality throughout Africa. Townships were segregated areas of living for basically everyone who didn’t have white skin during the Apartheid era and yes, they still exist today. The houses consist of three or four rooms and the farther in the township you venture, the smaller the houses become till your eyes are squinting from both the sun and the reflecting tin of shacks. SWAPO flags fly proudly and people greet you warmly, but viewing the conditions that were emplaced forty years ago still continue in the present brings a certain sadness that melts into anger. We were shown the empty houses that sit in the distance, substantially larger and according to the people, substantially so far more expensive that no one can even afford to live in them. How cruel that an empty promise can be your next door neighbor and how different the music can begun to be heard. Unfortunately, throughout this trip, it’s been the same realization: that while there is beauty that surrounds us, there is immense despair in both the history and the present. That here, like in life, you can choose to ignore the harsh reality of things if you wish, and listen to that classical music while completely avoiding the storm outside. And that the sad truth is... many people do.

That Sunday afternoon I thought back to the first Thursday we arrived in Swakopmund, sitting in the restaurant we sat stretched on a long dock amidst the ocean. I thought about people and how they differ. How there are those who choose to ignore the storm that is roaring just beside them. How there are those who intensify and add havoc, and those who see it but only talk about it. William Blake once said, “Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.” I believe it’s a bit like sitting amidst the ocean studying the waves and their intricacies and then doing the same within the scorching desert. They are there to show the gap of difference between their existence and it’s up to us to bring these places that act as two different worlds together. That instead of having one road that shows the pleasant and another which shows the pain, we must walk the same one together. That there is a song that all should hear and it is the song of justice, so please excuse me while I stop talking, unplug the classical music from the wall and dive headfirst into this ocean instead.