No return ticket, no medical aid – and on the way to Namibia in search of Lady Luck. Actually I had a good feeling; I wasn’t ill or struggling with a cold, no, rather full of pleasant anticipation, since this was the advent of a new life. On that day, with all my stuff ready and packed, I still went to say goodbye here and there, although my parents would have surely preferred me to spend a little more time with them. But everything was so exciting and, with the many friends in my hometown Zella-Mehlis, I could hardly say farewell to all of them – just an ultra-brief visit could be squeezed in here and there. Three or four of them came calling on their own, but we barely had 5 minutes before the May family had to get into the car and speed toward Frankfurt. My father was unable to come along, and so it was I, my mother, my brother and my friend Mex.
On arrival at the airport we quickly espied the Air Namibia counter. I only held a one-way ticket which, if I remember correctly, cost around 730 Deutschmarks at the time. Then a shock: My luggage was overweight, and I was compelled to pay an additional 350 marks. This meant that the flight came to over 1000 marks – and I only had 6000 Deutschmarks on me. That was all I possessed for a new beginning, plus a couple of contact addresses in Namibia. Yet it never even occurred to me that I could be making a mistake.
The book - photos
Now things would have to take their course. Clutching my luggage I rushed along the passageway to the exit, when, suddenly, an airline official called out after me: “Mr May, Mr May, come back, there’s someone on the phone for you!” I could hardly believe it: All my friends had come after me in two cars, but got stuck in a traffic jam and could now only bid me farewell on the phone. It was so nice to hear their voices for long last, but also mixed with an element of sadness – I think some of them had trouble holding back their tears. As for me, I didn’t share their depression unduly – my excitement, my anticipation of the new life that I was trying to carve out just at this moment, silenced everything else. My head was spinning: There was no going back!
Now the plane was 5 minutes late already because of me! Hardly seated, I came forward with a further request: I was looking for the Beier family from our neighbouring village. They were also bound for Namibia and intended to visit relations there. The obliging steward called them out on the intercom system, but, sadly, they were not on the aircraft.
Only then did I begin to relax. At that time one was still allowed to smoke on board. So I joined some youths in the first row, and we had a smoke together and a sip of Windhoek Lager. To me it seemed as if the time of flight passed at breathtaking speed. What an adventure for me: Travelling at nearly 1000kph for 9000 kilometres, and then arriving at the end of the world, so to speak.
Then the aircraft landed at Hosea Kutako International Airport outside Windhoek, the Namibian capital. I disembarked; the weather was pleasantly warm. Now I had to find Paul, my contact person. Since I had no paper to write on I took along a vomit bag and jotted my name on it. Paul and I had been in contact by phone and fax for a year. My folks and I intended to embark on a new project with him. He had advertised the scheme on a German television network.
I was very quick in finding Paul and could happily phone my parents to report that everything had gone well. Paul and I drove to Windhoek straightaway, to Paul’s mother-in-law. I was astounded how familiar everything seemed. I had actually been in Namibia once before, but this was my first time of staying with German-speaking people in Windhoek.
I told Paul right away that I was actually looking for a contact person in town, namely Gustav van der Merwe, a South African in the police service. The Namibian Embassy in Bonn had given me his address, because I planned to apply for a post in the police force in order to earn some money.
So we first travelled to Paul’s parents – Wilhelm and Maria – on a small, remote farm. I couldn’t very well anticipate what lay in store for me there.
We arrived early, and I felt taken back to the year 1935. It was difficult to fathom how Germans could be surviving with such simple means so far from home. On being introduced to Paul’s father he said, laconically: “Oh, a German again.” My skin was of European paleness and one could immediately see that I did not hail from Namibia. The introduction was brief, and then Paul showed me to my room. It was some distance from the main building and, in effect, more of a storeroom.
In a matter of hours the way of life I had been used to in Germany was no longer existent. The first experience was an unpleasantly strong nose-bleeding. I looked around. My habitat looked like a deserted workshop, but that didn’t worry me – I had firmly decided that, wherever my travels would take me and however rocky the path ahead might be, I would proceed. Thus I coolly ignored the drawbacks. After all, the expansive savannahs I had viewed from the aircraft windows, were of fascinating allure.
However my nose-bleeding got worse by the minute. I hurried over to Wilhelm and Maria. They tried to pacify me and said it was only normal – with my nose and its mucuous membranes being too tender as yet – and then added: “We are actually glad about every drop of German blood moistening this soil.” I shuddered a bit; hardly had I expected that they would regard this as some gift from my side. I am bleeding, and they find it a good thing?!
At a some later stage Paul and I were to drive to Swakopmund, which town I only knew from hearsay. I had never been there myself. In the past we merely saw it on the map, and then the ocean, beaches and fish came to mind. At that time I had no inkling what was to be in store for me in Swakopmund later on.
The day on the farm passed; travel stress had taken its toll, and I was no longer in top form. Yet I was so wound up that I couldn’t sleep. So I lay on the bed and tried to bring order into my topsy-turvy brain, thought about what I had come across so far, my family and ..., when, out of the blue, a troubling thought struck me: I hadn’t visited the toilet once the whole day – though I’d been drinking lots of fluid! First the nose-bleed, and now this! I tried to calm down, when suddenly something scurried up the wall. A gecko, perhaps? Oh well, I thought to myself, this is probably normal in Africa. Then I felt something running over my skin. There was a rattle in the cupboard and somehow there seemed to be strange noises everywhere. That was too much! I pulled the blanket from its cover, slid into the cover, drew it over my head and tried getting to sleep.
I awoke early next morning, when Wilhelm knocked on my door. He was past 80 and still very sprightly. Within hours I had been catapulted into a life on the farm although, actually, I had intended to relax a bit at first. For breakfast maize broth was served – a dish I had never savoured before. It’s called mieliepap in Namibia (and South Africa) and, coming with lots of sugar and jam, doesn’t taste bad at all. I was reminded of the semolina pudding back home, which I had been fond of all my life. So the food didn’t seem to pose too great a problem, although I am a rather particular eater. I cannot tolerate everything and thus I found it very comforting to start off with a kind of semolina pudding.
Back in my habitat I mixed some sherbet powder with water. Up to now I had still not been able to urinate. I began feeling most uneasy. Though Wilhelm had no explanation either he maintained that it was probably quite normal. The day itself was most eventful. I cannot recollect every little detail, but Wilhelm showed me what he cultivated in the line of vegetables and vine. He had some 200 very old grapevines. The grave of his father was on the farm too. He showed me where the employees were housed, the tools he used and what they generally did on the farm. The volume of information was such that I could not remember everything.
Watching the sunset in the savannah at nightfall imbued one with a feeling of freedom and adventurousness. My new life had already begun. On sitting outside, alone, and having a smoke, no troublesome thoughts of being in the wrong place or embarking on a risky venture crossed my mind. No, I just went ahead there from one sunrise to the next.
Then came the third day and was only around noon that I felt the need of passing water. I had already contemplated to look up a doctor, but the next settlement was 200 kilometres distant. Just imagine: There are people who lived at this place all their life. They had grown up differently as we had in Germany; they are hardy folks who did not brood over unusual matters, such as I encountered just then... But finally I could go to the toilet. What a relief! Now I could fully concentrate on other things once more.
I remained on the farm for two weeks and heard all about a new, alien, and yet – in view of former colonialism – so familiar land. You find many German-speaking folks there. One also had access to German radio services, but I never missed TV or similar diversions during the whole time of my stay.
Wilhelm showed me lots of things: I made contact to black Africans for the first time and heard a strange tongue. It is a click-sound language which I, as a European, had never encountered yet. The Khoi-San (Bushmen) speak it in extreme form; other Namibian people, the Damara, and the Nama too, use clicks in their speech, but softly-pronounced words also occur. Madisa, for example, means hello. So I broadened my knowledge from day to day. And one can say that, at present, I know more about Namibia than I knew about Germany when I left my homeland. And that after a mere 10 years in Africa.
Now I’d like to narrate how I came to all this, why I chose this path and what else happened to me from childhood onwards. It is quite a deep-reaching story; perhaps I can provide some sort of guiding- light to the readers or effect a change of track for them by showing what can be achieved in life, even if one is only possessed of scant means.
This is, then, how I started off in Namibia. Innocent, ignorant, but brimful with a pioneering spirit to look for and pursue my luck. I paved the way for this at an early stage, though, during my youth, when I wasn’t satisfied with my situation at the time. One has to try and earn one’s freedom, and it is imperative to follow one’s own path.
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Manuela am 13.2.17 um 21:40 Uhr
Hallo Hendrik, hab in einem Ritt Dein Buch gelesen und hoffe auf eine Fortsetzung. Bleib Dir treu und weiterhin viel Freude bei der Erfüllung Deiner Träume
Henrik May
Phone: +264 (0) 81 4720343 henrik@ski-namibia.com
PO BOX 8140
Swakopmund / Namibia
Anne + Julius at 07.02.20 Dieses Jahr waren wir nicht wie gewohnt in Skandinavien zum Skifahren, sondern verbrachten einen tollen Urlaub in Namibia. Unvergesslich war dabei unser Sandski-Erlebnis mit Henrik, der eine tolle und durchaus anspruchsvolle Tour mit uns geplant hatte. ... ...to the comment
Anne + Julius at 07.02.20 Dieses Jahr waren wir nicht wie gewohnt in Skandinavien zum Skifahren, sondern verbrachten einen tollen Urlaub in Namibia. Unvergesslich war dabei unser Sandski-Erlebnis mit Henrik, der eine tolle und durchaus anspruchsvolle Tour mit uns geplant hatte. ... ...to the comment
Wüstenskifahrer Henrik May at 02.06.18 Auf der Suche nach dem perfekten Wüstenskischuh bin ich auf Orthopädie Schuhmachermeister Bernd Alf in Suhl gestoßen. Durch seine Professionelle und freundliche Beratung für richtige Schuhwahl und Anpassung spezieller Einlagen konnten meine Defizite ... ...to the comment
Manuela at 13.02.17 Hallo Hendrik, hab in einem Ritt Dein Buch gelesen und hoffe auf eine Fortsetzung. Bleib Dir treu und weiterhin viel Freude bei der Erfüllung Deiner Träume ...to the comment
Henrik May at 02.09.16 Im+Sand+ein+Pionier:https://t.co/bbQsilhj8m ...
Jens at 12.07.16 Das ist ja mal eine coole Idee - muss ich ausprobieren, wenn ich mal wieder in Namibia bin :-) ...to the comment
Sig at 11.07.16 Is it a Sand dune? 50 degrees are impossible, sand properties allow for approx. 34 degrees @ slip face .
Might look steeper but eyes/brain are cheating ...to the comment
Henrik May at 25.03.16 The Amazing Race in Namiba https://t.co/XwWCYdoi0M ...
Henrik May at 25.03.16 Skifahren geht auch in der Wüste! https://t.co/aIcsSZlsq7 ...
Henrik May at 25.03.16 Skifahren geht auch in der Wüste! https://t.co/ceturEtoty ...
Henrik May at 14.03.16 Ich habe ein @YouTube-Video positiv bewertet: https://t.co/EZLsyA3zLt 2016 US Telemark Nationals ...
Henrik May at 19.12.15 Ich habe ein @YouTube-Video positiv bewertet: https://t.co/YTi9K4vQ9c Der wirklich allerletzte Wüsten-Tannenbaum... ...
Henrik May at 17.12.15 Ich habe ein @YouTube-Video positiv bewertet: https://t.co/YTi9K4vQ9c Der wirklich allerletzte Wüsten-Tannenbaum... ...
Henrik May at 26.11.15 Gut.Morg. Erik sehr toll Du bist News Profi u. aus der legendären 8.März wünsche Dir hoffentlich (cont) https://t.co/GnSgdNsM2m ...
Henrik May at 26.11.15 Guten Morgen Erik sehr toll Du bist News profi und aus der legendären 8.März wünsche Dir (cont) https://t.co/wrgRBRod4Z ...