Namibia, from the beginning…

A diverted flight through Jo’burg sees me land in Windhoek (Vind-hook), the capital of Namibia. A country with a populace of 2 million but a 52% rate of unemployment. The hour long drive from the airport to Cardboard Box Backpackers is filled with large, flat open scrubland more akin to the Australian outback than I would have thought, with sparse brush, red earth and endlessly straight tarmac roads, devoid of anything but wilderness.

Time passes and I am soon lounging by the pool, contemplating what to do for my evening meal, brave the streets or take on the hostel’s kitchen and bar service? I sit for some two hours in which time a Brit has come and sat by me, which we later discover is the same person I have been emailing in regards to this Enkosini Adventure Program I am soon to be embarking upon. She too is a volunteer with the program and we soon find another that will be joining us. The three of us proceed to sample the local beer and having been strongly discouraged from venturing out of the compound of the hostel, we boldly attempt our hand at the local braii (bbq), which consists of kudoo steak and springbok boerewurst. Mmm… chewy… yet surprisingly delicious.

For the uninitiated, Enkosini is just one of a few leaching companies that have latched onto the incredible wildlife program known as Harnas. One can volunteer with them for 2 weeks to a year, working hands on with (occasionally tame) African wildlife. I would be at their mercy for the next 4 weeks along with 20 or 30 other lucky souls, some of whom (please ignore the note of jealousy), had been there for 2 months already.

After a leisurely 4 hour wait the next morning, twenty-four 18 to 30 something year olds finally head out on the 6 hour drive that would get us to the farm in the north east of the country. A tiny dot on the surface of the planet that is so far in the middle of no-where that it doesn’t even have a postal address. This would be our home for the next 28 days, an oasis mostly devoid of outside influences. Thanks to our drivers taking full advantage of “Africa Time” we arrive in the Volunteer village several hours later than expected, that is, near nightfall. None of that really mattered though, as we were here. A place of many possibilities, clichéd yet still inspirational speeches, unforgettable people, unbelievable experiences and yes, I will say it, life changing moments, both man-made and animal induced. Being chased by a warthog for example, or freaking out the cleaning staff when I inform them that one of the adult, male baboons have escaped…