To all the friendly faces we’ve met in Namibia,
I have used about a month to process the fact that we had already left Namibia, after 3 weeks of researching, interviewing, making friends, and sightseeing. I didn’t think it had been enough by the time our trip ended. When I first arrived in Windhoek, I was exhausted, excited, and who would have imagined how hard it would get when it was time to depart. I didn’t feel much when I waved my goodbyes. I guess that’s because I was used to it.
There are many places to where I have not been, but among the four countries I have traveled to and lived in, Namibia stood out because of its raw, massive land, its culture, and its people and the genuineness and kindness in them.
I stood on the Namibian soil once and left promising myself that some day, I would return.
During our stay, we had our calendar filled with interviews, b-toll shooting appointments, including all the miscellaneous, grocery shopping, dinner making and such. Although it seemed busy, we managed to go for a hike or head to a bar as our occasional treats.
Or we pretended to be like real tourists taking lots and lots of pictures everywhere we went. One time I was almost too into the role and got yelled at for photographing on private territory without permission. I deserved it. I apologized and walked away.
My fondest memory was being introduced to all the successful, inspiring PLU alumni, especially the main narrator of our documentary, Edwin Tjiramba, and his family. Edwin invited us to his farm on a rural land, which I forgot the name of. The combination of sand, the sky, and trees were simply breathtaking.
I remembered that the kids took us to the river. By the river we sat and played with sand until sunset. The afternoon sun softly shined on the kids’ smiley faces. We enjoyed the time as much as they did building sand castles or rolling in the mud.
As I was typing this, I felt a sudden urge of taking the next flight going back to Windhoek. I miss those kids. I miss all the kind people we spent time with. I miss being called Chi-Chi, the Namibian sounding name I was given. And I miss the warm hugs we would receive as we greeted one another.
Goodbye is only temporary. Goodbye means we will meet again. But until then… Goodbye, Namibia.