Single-Serve Pack of Derm (8/11)

Following a quick breakfast, we boarded the Cessna and soon arrived in Pooras, to hang with the Himba and search for the elusive Desert Elephant.

Upon landing, we embarked on a brief game drive past SKS’s somewhat deserted and more basic Pooras camp along a dry riverbed. Our fine-feathered friends were out in full force, including tuft-headed Go-Aways, Montero’s and yellow-billed hornbills, chats, helmeted (to protect their pea brains) guinea fowl, and francolin. By the way, Nancy is preparing a more enlightened guide to our bird sightings in a separate post, because, in Tyrone’s Guide to African Game, SIZE DOES MATTER-- if it’s smaller than a breadbox, then his interest wanes disproportionately.

Which is why Rick awoke from his slumber, when Father Eratsu (a collared desert elephant)

turned a corner and came lumbering into full view among the trees along the linear oasis. We were now batting .200 on big game for the tripJ. He walked slowly between two Land Rovers, as he made his way through the river bed.

We continued our drive away from the oasis to a small Himba village. These hunter gatherers still carry on many of the traditions and are good friends Skeleton Coast Schoemans. Andre and his brothers help support the Himba tribesmen with tourist visits and occasional livestock from Andre’s ranch. In return, the Himba agree support the local tourist trade, by NOT hunting local game and by demonstrating their traditional ways to gringos like us (but, NOT for tourists like John Ashcroft).

We were greeted enthusiastically by two young Himbas,

who played a game of Beep-Beep (honk-the-nose) with Nancy, tag with Rick,

and grab-the-blond with Anne.

Meanwhile, the bare-breasted women (clearly the 60s lives on in Pooras)

demonstrated their jewelry-making (ankle bracelents) and hygiene traditions. Most of the men were out with the cows and the children were attending school in the village.

As we learned later, the men regularly wash themselves with water while out herding the cattle, but the women protect and clean themselves by rubbing a freshly concocted mixture of ground ochre, camphor, and butterfat into their skin

and charcoal ashes into the armpits and private parts. Dan and Rick were only privy to the former, while Nancy and Anne declined the offer for an African Ayurvedic spa day.

We trolled the compound, peaking in on small, crowded huts made from twigs, bark, and dung, home to sleeping babies and napping seniors, as an old man played music by the ritual fire.

We contributed to the Himba’s economic development fund by buying a few trinkets at their makeshift gift shop,

before reboarding our flight back to Leyland for lunch and said a sad goodbye to Jacques, Leon, and the Leyland Drift camp staff. Back in flight, Rick spotted Father Eratsu for a final farewell from 2,000 feet before Andre banked hard over a sand dune, imploring Rick to capture the late afternoon shadow of a compliant oryx atop a dune.

Our flight up the Skeleton coastline received Dan’s Good Plane-Viewing Seal of Approval, as we passed thousands of flippered floaters waddling and wading on the shore.

Eventually, we arrived near our final campground, along the Kunene River. After a one-hour drive through rolling hills towards our camp, a luscious, tree-lined river valley lay before us as the sun was setting.

However, a very steep (38 degrees) downhill drive through a rocky, sandy, and winding road lay between us and the river. Facing a beautiful setting, but a treacherous-looking approach, Dan decided to hike to the camp, while Anne, Nancy, and Rick put their trust in Andre and held on for dear life and we bumped and ground (gears) our way to the basin, with Dan far ahead.

Once in the valley, we passed fields of maize, planted by tented Himba tribesmen, before arriving at the Kunene camp for a quick shower, a hot dinner, and a toast to celebrate our amazing Skeleton Coast Safari with our gracious host.