“Headed for Namibia,” I texted a friend.
Instantly, he replied, with a link to nine varieties of venomous snakes inhabiting Namibia. The communication left me with the distinct impression I’d be tripping over nesting pythons, wrestling extended families of puff-adders, fending off multiple varieties of mambas at every turn.
Ours was the only flight coming into Hosea Kutako International Airport, Windhoek, for a few hours. The immigration officials appeared rather pleased to stamp the Boeing 737-load of us in. I was more than pleased to be admitted after the 20 minute walk from the parked Airlink aircraft to the airport buildings. The African sun blazes, I tell you.
Airlink, I understand is a rather new South African carrier, an airline I have found to be friendly and efficient. It’s interesting that even on the quick domestic hauls — at least the flights I’ve enjoyed— Airlink finds it possible and profitable to serve all passengers delightfully boxed meals in recently sealed time-stamped containers each with fresh fruit and an “African dessert.” The part I most enjoy is washing it down with a traditionally served hot cup of tea – while there remains a selection of wines freely available.
Namibia, formerly South West Africa until 1990, is large, mostly desert, and Windhoek, one of the major cities is a two hour flight almost directly north South Africa’s “Mother City,” Cape Town. My immediate impression: Windhoek is as vibrant and modern as any large metropolitan city anywhere in the west, while rural Namibia is as rural as I have known on this fabulous continent.
The “Foundations of Counseling Ministries” students and facilitating staff whom I am teaching for the week make a full classroom of 20 hailing from 7 nations: Kenya, Zimbabwe, Namibia, Netherlands, Switzerland, South Africa, and Tanzania. Each student is in a different part of his or her journey towards a degree from The University of The Nations.
Next week I will be back in South Africa and in my home town. I will attend the wedding of my great niece and speak at a few public gatherings, one of which will be a live, three hour discussion with Terry Angelos, the best selling author of “White Trash” subtitled “My Year As a High Class Call Girl.” The memoir is as graphic and tough to read as it is redemptive and full of hope and joy.
If you follow my “On The Road” series of columns, you may have noticed that this time I have not written about the long flight from Newark to Cape Town or the inconveniences that come with international travel.
Here’s why: the teacher for the week in a parallel class offered on this Namibian rural campus, which is 840 acres of sprawling bush with a settlement of houses and classrooms sitting somewhere in the middle, arrived between 2 and 3am on Monday after a 9 hour public bus ride — think Greyhound — from a town in northern Namibia.
Bishop Leonard was up and teaching within a few hours.
I am over complaining about the inconveniences of Boeing and Airbus travel, thank you, Bishop Leonard.
At least for now.