The south of Africa’s exotic landscapes and incredible wildlife have provided me with an endless source of inspiration. The more I write, the more I recall about what we saw and experienced.
I fell in love with the traditional baskets and – something I never, ever do – I sought them out and purchased some to bring home. It’s a rare desire for me. My rule of thumb when we’re traveling is to keep reminding myself: “Jadi, you own an apartment, not a big house! Where are you going to store anything you bring home?” So, I limit myself to one beautiful item, and try to make it an object that’s useful.
But, the baskets. I bought the first one at a Living Village, excusing the purchase by telling Uwe I wanted to support local arts and artists of the Kavango.
I picked up and held at least half those baskets one by one, trying to decide. There was no one else there so I could take my time.
Later, when I was seeking out small stands with traditional baskets, I told each shop keeper, “I’m sorry, but I’m a slow shopper…. I’m waiting to hear which of your baskets speaks to me.” They all smiled when I said this. I think they liked the idea of a tourist who was willing to wait until a piece of handmade work reached out to her with something to say.
I’d connected with the history and artistry and continuity and passing on of tradition – and love – that each basket contains. At some point very early in our trip, Uwe and I fell in love with these countries and this part of the world and its people. Most places and people are wonderful, of course; but this area of southern Africa touched us in a deep immediate way.
The Living Villages in Namibia are staffed by local San people who want to keep the old traditions from fading from memory. A joint Namibia/German project, the Living Villages
Sometimes traveling we feel like we bear witness to a culture that’s changing so fast it will soon be gone. The Mbunza Living Museum got me interested in the region’s basketry – a tradition that’s still very much alive.
I bought my first basket here. 5 more followed.
NOTES: www.lcfn.info/mbunza ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photos of our trips and his photography may be viewed at viewpics.de.
I am a Best American Essays-nominated writer. My books are Broken In: A Novel in Stories, Tsunami Cowboys, Grounded, The Trail Back Out, and The Taste of Your Name. My most recent book
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The feeling came to me as a revelation. When I climbed shakily out of what I considered a toy tin helicopter after our ride over the Okavango Delta, I was startled to realize I was feeling something unfamiliar:
It was love at first sight. When Uwe and I were in southern Africa I sent my sisters ‘Zebra of the Day’ snapshots.
We spotted them in the Okavango Delta from above in a helicopter.
Zebras are sociable, and intelligent, and cannot be tamed. Each zebra’s stripes are as distinctly unique as finger prints.
By far the best pieces of scenery were the hippos that live in exactly this stretch of the river.
Verdant areas where the showers of the last two days had filled pools.
Pods of hippos seen from above looked like floating lily pads.
When I was looking through Uwe’s photographs for this post, for the first time I saw this pic of two men carrying attachable doors across the runway. So there ARE doors if you insist on having them.
In Botswana it took two hours in a jeep on terrible roads to even get to Moremi Game Reserve. It was worth it: in the park we spotted a big pack of wild dogs.
Africa’s wild dog should probably be called the wily dog. They’re social and really smart and farmers hate them. The wild dog’s intelligence, speed (African wild dogs can run at speeds of more than 44 miles or 70 kilometers per hour), and hunting talents makes them a real threat for livestock.
Their sociable nature means food is shared with the entire pack. Farmers set out poisoned meats, the wild dogs return and regurgitate the food to feed the pups and other adults, and everyone gets poisoned. They’re one of the most endangered species on the planet.
A few days later we splurged on a doorless helicopter ride over the Okavango Delta. Uwe wanted to photograph migrating herds from the air, and I just wanted not to faint or throw up.*
