Airplanes, Guitars, and Cutoms Officials

I’ve finally arrived in Namibia….sort of. I landed at Chief Hosea Kutako International Airport in Windhoek, Namibia at 3:30PM, a mere 31.5 hours after I left my friend Matt’s apartment in Budapest. Everyone got into Windhoek yesterday but I couldn’t get in until today because of the wedding. The plan was to have a guy pick me up from the airport and drive me to the Sossuvlei sand dunes where everyone was camping. Unfortunately, when I landed in Windhoek, I received a text message from Ben saying that he wasn’t able to secure transportation but that I should call him when I landed. Luckily, I was able to convince a woman working at one of the airport booths to give me the security code to the wireless network so I could shoot onto Skype and give Ben a call. Just as I logged on I got another message that said the following: “we may be leaving cell coverage. I send u email with instructions. good luck.” Great message: concise, clear, and the use of the phrase “good luck” gave me a boost of inspiration. I tried to call anyway but got an automated voice saying that the phone was off. The voice went into several different languages, including a language that involved lots of clicking. Ben’s email instructed me to head over to the Roof of Africa hostel near downtown, but like any good adventure traveler I ignored his advice and rifled through my guide book to make sure I found the liveliest hostel in town (one of the themes of this trip is “fun first, safety second”). The hostel I found was booked up anyway so here I am at the Rooftop of Africa sitting at the bar, sipping a crisp Windhoek Lager, which is apparently the only beer in Africa that is still brewed according to German purity laws, and listening to the sweet sounds of Elvis. They’ve got a great Elvis album full of love songs playing on the stereo. Who knew Namibians were so romantic?

I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go next. Ben emailed me telling me to head 4 hours west to the beach city of Swakopmund. For now my plan is to spend the night at the hostel and catch a bus to Swakopmund in the morning. The receptionist at the hostel told me the bus schedule is “whenever the bus is full.” Very innovative scheduling model. I hope the airplane schedule out of here doesn’t follow this policy. Talking about airplanes, I got switched around to another airline flying from Cape Town to Johannesburg. The British Airways flight was incredibly delayed so they put me on a local carrier called Kululu. This airline is known for their bright green aircraft painted with Zebras. The woman who transferred my ticket had a real pained look on her face while she was pecking away at the computer. I thought she was going to strap me to the wing of the plane with duct tape. I would’ve needed a helmet to protect me from the bugs since it would’ve be painful to have huge African bugs smash into me at 300 mph. Since I didn’t pack a helmet, no wing, no duct tape.

Continuing on the airplane topic, I’ve noticed a trend among customs officials in Africa. I feel somewhat comfortable referring to this as a trend since I was in Tanzania, Kenya, and Ethiopia in December and this happened to me as well. Whenever I clear customs, I always get hassled over the contents of my guitar case. I’m always asked to open the case and show the inspector the guitar. One inspector in Ethiopia put the guitar around his neck and started playing it. Earlier today, the inspector in Johannesburg asked me to take the guitar out and sing for him. I thought to myself “good luck.” I delivered a very inspired, seductive version of “Love Me Tender.” He waved me on through but I kept on singing. You can’t separate a man and his guitar, just like you can’t separate a customs official and his ability to be annoying.

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