Broken buses and bladders

2/16/09
20:45

You know when you go camping and you make a simple dinner of Mac and Cheese, but it’s the best meal you’ve ever had? Well try having a not-so-simple feast of Pasta Bolognese after a three hour bus ride that turned out to be nine hours long, having to sit on a cooler for half of that bus ride because your bus broke down and all the passengers were divvied up into other already packed buses, and setting up tents in the rain and then finally eating at 10 o’clock at night. Let me just say it was the best meal of my entire life. I may have already crowned the nachos in Madrid ‘Best Meal of My Life’, but they are no match for my first Namibian dinner.

Let me start from the beginning of the story. 

The ship docked in Namibia at about 8, at which time there was a diplomatic briefing for all the passengers. There were two American speakers who now live and work in Namibia, one of whom had something to do with safety and security in Namibia. He told us about the crime situation in Namibia, which is high, and gave us some tips about traveling safely. He concluded his speech with his own personal story of Namibian crime: a man tried to break into his house at 4 in the morning and he stabbed the speaker in the arm with a screwdriver, but the speaker held him off with a wicker chair until the intruder finally fled. So we were all totally ready to have an intense wicker chair fight of our own and live to tell about it.

Despite this violent and rather scary picture that was painted right before we disembarked, Namibia was by far the most welcoming country I have been to thus far.  A choir of girls stood at the gangway singing and dancing for us after the diplomatic briefing ended. The girls ranged from 6 to 16, at least that’s my guesstimate for their ages. They stood in three rows and one girl sat and played a Congo drum. It was beautiful, heart-warming, just wonderful. I wish I could have a CD or something. And they were so uninhibited. The youngest girls would break form and shake it up in front for all of us on the ship. Everyone loved it. 

Once we were allowed off the ship we went down to talk to the girls. They were so nice. They introduced themselves and asked us questions. They were hugging people and smiling for pictures. One girl sang us that song by Rihanna that goes…You look so dumb right now. You know that one? I forgot the name. That girl was awesome. I have a video of her, don’t worry.

After spending some time with the choir, Caroline, Greg, and I headed over to Bus 5, the bus that was going to take us to Etosha National Park for the safari. Although this wasn’t a SAS-sponsored trip, nearly 140 SAS students were going on this safari. There were nine buses lined up at the port that could each seat 15 passengers “comfortably.” 

Upon getting settled into our bus seats our guide, Bennie, and his assistant, Manfred, told us that it would be a 5 to 6 hour drive. I had been told previously that the trip would be 3 to 4 hours long. Oh well, I thought, I’m going on a Namibian safari! Once the rest of Bus 5 showed up, Bennie told us that we should get ready for a long drive, about 6 to 7 hours. Wait…didn’t he just say 5 to 6?

In order to prepare for the long journey, Bennie stopped at the supermarket so we could get snacks and drinks. Then the adventure began.

We drove through the dunes of Walvis Bay, which reminded me of the time that Dad thought we should name Liv, Dune. Dune isn’t a name, Dad. The passengers of Bus 5 agree.

Bennie pointed out the resort where Brangelina stayed and had baby Shiloh.

And then we stopped for gas. It had been probably 20 to 30 minutes of driving. Then we drove some more. And stopped again. This time for a quick bagged lunch. Then we drove some more. Then we stopped…again. For gas and more snacks and a pee break. Then we drove some more. I saw a baboon sitting on a fence. Then we stopped again. This cycle continued for maybe two hours. We were caravanning with the other buses as well so we all stopped at the same places, which made the lines really long. At one pit stop we found out that all the other buses were passing around a bottle of vodka and getting shwasted. Our bus was playing Catch Phrase. Good ole Bus 5.

Then we drove some more. And then we started to slow. And then we slowed down more. And then we stopped moving.

Bus 5 broke down. 

Another bus flew past us and honked, mocking us in our sorry state. Then, thankfully, another bus pulled over. And another, and another, until we had about 5 buses parked on the side of the road. The SASers started pouring out of the buses and flooding the country road we were stalled on. It was a downright SAS party in the middle of the street in Namibia. Bus 5 decided to crack their first beer in light of the current situation.

After about 45 minutes of dinking around with Bus 5’s engine, the drivers finally decided that Bus 5 passengers should be dispersed amongst the other buses, 2 extra per bus. So we did that, except Caroline and I didn’t get a bus. So we wandered around carrying our backpacks and sleeping bags and snacks and two 5-liter bottles of water and two beers until Lucinda, a topnotch bus driver, offered to take on more passengers. Caroline sat up front in between Lucinda and her assistant Jason, while Greg and I sat on a cooler in the aisle. Cozy. 

Then we started driving again. Then we stopped. Again. Pee break. I sort of had to pee, but I decided to wait 20 minutes for the next stop because I didn’t have to go THAT bad. Well guess what…we didn’t stop again for an hour. AN HOUR. That hour was quite possibly the most painful hour of my life. I was dangerously close to peeing my pants. DANGEROUSLY. When we finally stopped I ran off the bus only to find…you guessed it, a line at the girl’s bathroom. I offered everyone twenty American dollars (since $20 Namibian is like $2 USD) to let me budge. Kindly, everyone let me go ahead for free.

The story isn’t over and believe me it gets better, but I am utterly exhausted and perhaps seasick? So bed for me.