What led me to buy the first basket…

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 promoted community-based tourism.

boys practice with hewing small boats; as adults, they’ll know how to make the real ones
clay for cooking vessels and toys
prepping reeds

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.

My first basket on the left, from the Mbunza Living Museum. Pattern: Tears of the giraffe

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 The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.

Follow these links for Amazon.com or Amazon.de.

 

Dumb as a Box of Rocks

The ostrich is as about as smart as a box of rocks.

RUN! Etosha National Park, Namibia
Hey! Where’d the lion go? Etosha National Park, Namibia

This bird is ridiculous! Oh, how the ostrich makes me laugh… just the sight of something so big, and awkward, and silly-looking cracks me up.

Maybe we’ll be safer here. Etosha National Park, Namibia

And stupid: the brain of an ostrich is roughly the size of a human eyeball.

The ostrich does make a pretty sculpture, though. Oudtshoorn, South Africa

And healthy, as well as tasty: ostrich meat has zero cholesterol. *

And striking, with all those feathers and angular limbs. When you see an ostrich running, their limbs go all akimbo.

Basket on the right: traditional Botswana basket pattern Running Ostrich

And lethal. Those spurs on the ostrich’s legs can be deadly. The spurs are found on males, who uses them in mating competitions or to defend territory. The ostrich needs them, because he can’t rely on superior brain power. Remember the comment about brains? An ostrich’s brain is the size of a human eyeball. And that’s a fact worth repeating, because it makes me start laughing all over again.

Garden Route, South Africa

God was in a great mood the day She invented this bird.

One dumb cluck. Sandwich Harbour, Namibia

NOTES: * Ostrich eggs, however, are cholesterol bombs. ©2024 Jadi Campbell. Photos ©2023 Uwe Hartmann. Uwe’s photography and his photos of our trips can 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 The Taste of Your Name was a finalist for the 2025 Compass Press Book Award.

Follow these links for Amazon.com or Amazon.de.

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