7- Namibian family

But not everything here is animal, and I have decided to leave this chapter to talk about the people from Namibia that I met during the trip.

There are not many of them, actually. Namibia is the second most sparsely populated country after Mongolia. With an incredible amount of 3 inhabitants per square kilometer.

After Karasburg it was like that, because in the Karas region it is 0.5 inhabitants per square kilometre.

We met the farmers in the area. Michael O'Conell, a multi-task man, who had worked as a mechanic and as a farmer, was a handyman who could fix a car, sell a sheep or build a house. A life of work and after it, he hopes to be able to retire in a short time, and I hope he can get that well-deserved rest, because pensions in Namibia don't pay for much and they need to have some savings.

Henry and his wife Ouna were also in the area.

And the Pretorius. Nico and Cheryl Pretorius. He was a tall, sturdy man with hands that made a fool of anyone who shook them. A man who has lived all his life in the country, with a multitude of stories to tell, just like any other farmer.

And Cheryl, a lovely woman. Delighted to have her place in the world, in which she lives and enjoys, a great expert in the flora and fauna of the environment who undoubtedly gave us a list of plants and reptiles that she had seen. You could see how she was fascinated and spoke as if the mammals and even the plants and reptiles in the area were her friends, and she described the sounds, and the appearance of amphibians and reptiles that we could not see but that made us want to see them just by listening to her. Oh, and how she cooked... without a doubt, the best " Malva pudding" in Namibia. Hospitable and wonderful. This couple had three children, MJ, Jaqueline and Max, just as hardworking and nice as their parents.

And of course, the workers. With such large farms and so much daily work, the farmers need the support of the workers, many of them from Nama tribes. Certainly more difficult to know because of the language difference, as they speak mostly the language of the Nama and Afrikaans, and some English. I won't forget to mention Wilfred, Jan, Monica and Gabriel.

The ones we got to know a little more were Jan and Gabriel, the first one with a childish malice laughing at the things we did wrong, but with a young and lively spirit. I keep engraved in my memory the big smile from ear to ear when he received his little daughter coming from school in Warmbad, arriving at a house consisting of walls made of zinc sheets. And his daughter was in an educational system that is far from European, but which fills with pride a father who wants his daughter to be able to study and get a job.

Típica casa de zinc de los barrios marginales de Namas

(Foto de internet: Katutura, Windhoek)

And Gabriel, with his poor English but who, step by step, managed to understand each other perfectly, helped by signs and the little Afrikaans we learned. Always with a smile for us, with a kindness captured in his gestures. I also do not forget those times when he asked me to help him change the time on his mobile phone, or when we helped him without being asked, not used to have someone helping him without asking, which he did not used to either. Those thanks that really seemed from the heart and not a pure formality.

And there is something that in my head defines all of them. And that is kindness and tenacity. All of them hard workers, leaving the sweat of their brow every day. Always willing to help us, Cheryl and Nico telling us what they knew that would be useful to us, the workers in the everyday things that were hard for us at first like the running the generators, solar panels, vehicles, recycling and other things on the farm.

All with a willingness to share their little piece of land that is southern Namibia with us outsiders.

And there is something that marked me and surprised me a lot about the farmers in the area, especially the Pretorius. They are all forced to work hard in the current situation. The great drought that they have been suffering for 6 years now, makes it easy for the cattle to get lost, to weaken, to get into bad conditions, as well as the native fauna. That is why they have the obligation to work more. Nico made a promise that he continues to keep to this day. He hasn't drunk beer since the drought hit.

But what marked me was not only this, but that, despite these adverse conditions, they have a mentality that from my point of view as a biologist seems incredibly correct. They don't want to overexploit the land, they want to preserve it. That way of extensive farming in which they look after the welfare of the animals - that is what it should be all over the world. Living with the flora and fauna.

They want that land to reach their children, and their grandchildren, and to work it in the same way so that it is preserved in the future.

A very different point of view from the one marked in the current world market in rich countries.

They love their land, and everything that lives on it. Their plants and their animals. Of course, they also have conflicts like in Europe. The jackals and caracals eat their cattle. And of course they kill them too, but they try harder to put in place deterrents to prevent entry into their enclosure. And yes, I understand them. I understand their condition, and the great losses they take from their already laborious lives... I understand why they do that. Because it's a real problem for them, they don't have a government to compensate them for a dead sheep.

No doubt something that many farmers in Europe should learn from, with so many complaints while we have many more facilities.

And I will also say that I love Namibian meat. I haven't eaten sheep until now. In Spain you eat mostly lamb. But here, they can't afford that waste. You only kill a sheep over 10 kg.

I like to know that I see how they live, and how they die. And that they do not suffer any torture, but a quick and effective death, in which no part of the animal is wasted. I like to know that I eat what they take care of, and I feel sorry for the vegetarians because of ethics, but I don't feel one inch of guilt.

And I've saved my thoughts on the Morkels for last. The family who took us onto their land as guests.

While it's true that the first month we didn't get to meet them, they were kind to us from the start.

Pete, a busy man. One of the best vets in Africa, traveling back and forth and not stopping for more than three days straight at home. Even so, when he came back he was always a good host, telling us little stories, inviting us to dinner, and taking an interest in us.

And Estelle, what to say about her. Our hostess, with her kindness and affection, which at first sight might make one think of her as a delicate woman, a lady in distress. But nothing could be further from the truth. She is a strong, determined, hard-working African woman. The talks in the evenings, the Afrikaans lessons, her incredible cake... are things that I will not carry in my suitcase, but things that I will keep in my memory. Without a doubt, all the effort we made to make the move with her, all the miles and time was the least we could do for all the hospitality she offered us.

Without a doubt, it is not difficult to become attached to these people, after having spoken, worked and enjoyed them, like on the day of the Bazaar.

One day per year event, when people from the surrounding area gather in Warmbad to raise funds for their church. They set up a food market, from vegetables and fruit to sweets and cakes to fresh meat from the braai. I am not a believer, but I am totally in agreement with that kind of funding of their religion, without any help from the government, just from themselves and their friends.

It is a very special day that everyone enjoys, as they usually do not have time to join their friends with the work that their farms require, but they enjoy that day with everyone, including us. The very nice people were interested in us and included us in the party.

From left to right: Germán, Gabriel, Monica and me.