Monty's Year at Gobabeb Training and Research Centre, Namibia

Archive for October, 2010

The People of the Kuiseb: Topnaars, Gobabeb and the Namib-Naukluft National Park

Entrance into the Namib - Naukluft Park via the poorly maintained "river road"

There are two ways to drive to Gobabeb Training and Research Centre from Walvis Bay, the nearest town.

The quickest and most popular route takes one across the gravel plain.  The directions are easy enough: take the tarred road until it ends, drive another 40 kms east, and then drive straight south for 65 kms.  After about 2 hours (depending on the quality of your vehicle and your confidence driving on Namibia’s roads), you’ll see Gobabeb’s distinctive water-tower on the far horizon – the first sign of life, human or otherwise, since leaving town.

The other way to Gobabeb couldn’t be more different.  While both roads are almost entirely encompassed within the Namib-Naukluft National Park, the second route cuts the diagonal, following the long oasis of vegetation tapping the water hidden under the sands of the ephemeral Kuiseb River.  Skirting along this natural barrier of the Namib’s sand sea, the road meanders through blocks of beautifully pure colors: blue sky, orange dunes, green treetops, and alternating sections of black and white bedrock.  Yet, to me, the most striking part of this route is the fact that the neglected gravel road is more often traveled by donkey-cart than by car.

The "river road" cuts the diagonal of the longer but quicker route across the desolate gravel plain.

You see, the last 100 kms or so of the Kuiseb River’s narrow path through the Namib is the traditional land of the Topnaar people.  While a lot of the Namib-Naukluft Park is infrequently visited, this section is strongly influenced, if not dominated, by humans.  While the population of the Kuiseb Basin in not large – estimates vary from 300 – 800 depending on who you ask – their relatively large numbers of cattle, goats, and donkey’s have a significant footprint.

The Topnaar are a cultural group of Nama speaking Khoikhoi people, which factors along with their naturally isolated physical location, to marginalize them from the more dominant Namibian ethnic groups.  Traveling up-river, Rooibank is the first settlement in a long line of small villages, some of which are home to no more than one or two families.  Following Roibank comes Armstraat, Dawebdraai 1, Dawebdraii 2, !Ubas, Ururas 2, Ururas 1, Steekgras, Utuseb, Swartbank, Klipneus, Soutrivier, Gobabeb (and it’s ever changing make-up of strange foreigners), then Natab 2 and Natab 1, and finally Homeb.  With the glaring exceptions of Gobabeb and the primary school at Utuseb, these communities largely lack running water or electricity.  A few sad solar panels speak to what could be, but for the most part they have been poorly maintained.


.                Sebedeus’ step father at their home in Klipneus.
There is a mechanical pump, but it has been broken for the last 9 years.   When Sebedeus was 5, a group of drunk South African soldiers stormed his village, shot up his family’s home and livestock.

The Topnaar people’s history is fuzzy at best, but it is known that they have lived in the Kuiseb basin for hundred years.  Traditionally hunting game and harvesting the melons of the wild !nara plants that thrive here, the people were forbidden to hunt after the establishment of the Namib – Naukluft National Park in the 1960’s.  Today people survive by mixing what little cash they can meagre together with a subsistence lifestyle focused around !nara harvesting and livestock ranching.

Ouma Anna, one of the Kuiseb's matriarchs, at Ouma Lydia's funeral. When Ouma Anna was younger, she was almost killed while riding her bike home by South African soldiers having "target practice."

Gobabeb’s aura as an outpost of humanity in a featureless and pristine wilderness, as romantic as it is, is also deceptive.  To approach the station along this road, instead of it’s alternative, is to confront an inconvenient truth.  These people, their issues and realities, as well as unsightly piles of trash imported from a foreign economy of metal, glass, and plastic, are shunted from view from most casual visitors to the park.  After all, desperately poor people are not something tourists like to face on an excursion into the “wilderness.”  It’s uncomfortable and challenges deep seeded perceptions of what the Namib is and should be.

The first pit toilet along the Kuiseb - built last week in anticipation of Ouma Lydia's funeral at Armstraat.

While life is hard for the Topnaars, and access to basic information about the world is difficult if not impossible to come by, for most, life is arguably better than it was just 25 years ago.  At least now, after independence and the end of Apartheid, the South African Army no longer uses their homes, livestock , and bodies for target practice.

Many Topnaar do have hope for the future, though.  The booming uranium mining industry could potentially bring unskilled jobs.  Or maybe some of the politically controlled cash flow generated from the tourism industry will eventually trickle down to create practical improvements for people’s quality of life.  Or, perhaps, just maybe, education and use of culturally sensitive, alternative technologies will improve the quality of life for these people, while at the same time preserving some semblance of their way of life and sustaining the sensitive environment they’ve called home for centuries.



Quarterly Report #1

My first quarterly report for Grinnell.

Nathan Pavlovic’s first quarterly report.


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Namib Geckos

A barking gecko hatchling on the interdune. Adults grow to be larger.

The Namib is largely a silent place.  When the wind isn’t blowing even a library’s white noise would probably seem obtrusive.  Yet on warm evenings, just after sunset, a reliable cacophony of noise erupts from the quiet. Percussive and repeated clicks burst from all directions in machine-gun rapidity: barking geckos. Sounding a bit like two pebbles being clapped together in quick succession, penetrative calls accentuate the surrounding holes of silence even more.

In the early evening only a few isolated individuals sound off from the surrounding sand and gravel, but this quickly crescendos to a powerful chorus of males rudely interrupting one another.  Competing for the ears of choosy females, the males sit at the mouth of their burrows and use the natural hollow of sand there project and amplify their calls.  Ironically, they are just as elusive as they are loud.  Upon the approach of footsteps or a light, they will shy back underground.  Unique to the Namib, three separate species can be distinguished by the pitch and number of “clicks” in their call (ranging from 4 – 16).

Many other gecko species are found around Gobabeb, but perhaps the most interesting is the Palmato “web-footed” gecko. This charismatic species is found in the dune sea and has webbed feet, a unique trait that allows it to burrow into compacted sand. A nocturnal creature, it comes out to feed on dune ants and termites after dark. Even then it is vulnerable to predators, not least of which is the white lady spider… (see previous post).

A palmato gecko beginning a new burrow. It uses it's front webbed feet to loosen compacted sand, and shovels away the sand with it's back feet.

Palmato gecko