A Finn Time in Nakambale

My birthday week coincided with Easter, which meant a long weekend break from school. Over the holiday, I went to Nakambale with Nicola, the German volunteer who also works at my site. Nakambale, located about 140 km from Outapi, was the site of the first mission to Ovamboland, founded by a Finn named Martin Rautanen. He came to Ovamboland around 1870 and spent the rest of his life here, probably because he had never seen so much sun in his life. Rautanen built a church and a mission school, and translated the bible into Oshiwambo. Today, the church and the graveyard remain standing. The old mission house has been rebuilt and turned into a museum detailing missionary life and Ovambo culture circa 1870. There is also a small campsite and a dilapidated traditional homestead.

When we first got there, Nicola and I were just hoping that it would be open, because we weren’t able to book in advance. Luckily we met Maggie, the extremely friendly manager, who showed us around and told us we could throw our tent down anywhere. The rest of the people camping there were mostly Finns, plus a couple of old Ovambo guys who were rebuilding the homestead. There were Finnish missionary students here on holiday, and another group of Finnish museum students doing an internship in Namibia. I had only met one Finn in my life prior to this weekend, and then I met ten of them. Life sure can be Finny sometimes. (Sorry, but I can't help myself. While volunteering here for low wages, I've been punnyless).

The museum museum was pretty interesting. It was built in the old mission house where Martin lived with his wife and his five children (or six, I can’t remember now) children, of whom only three made it to adulthood. Half of the exhibits were about mission life, which looked pretty similar to a pioneer lifestyle in the U.S. in the 1800s. Most of the furniture was practical and solid, made from rough-hewn wood. The missus used an old, foot-powered Singer sewing machine, and the wagon that brought the Rautanens to Ovamboland looked similar to a pioneer era prairie schooner.


The more interesting part of the museum depicted the Ovambos in the late 1800s. Just over 100 years ago, the people in Ovamboland looked very different than they do today. Back then, they dressed in animal skins, the women wore headdresses, and neither gender covered their chests. The land was more heavily forested and full of game; as a result, hunting with bows and arrows was important. Today, many Ovambos wear trousers or jeans, with t-shirts sporting images of favorite musicians such as Gazza and The Dogg.
What surprised me in the pictures was the similarity between the Ovambos of yesterday and the Himbas of today. The Himba are a very traditional tribe of pastoral herders who live in a very dry and rocky area just west of Ovamboland. Even today the men dress in animal skins, the women wear headdresses but are bare-chested, and the families live in small huts. In short, they look today like the Ovambos of yesteryear. Why did the Ovambos modernize while the Himbas did not? Why do the Ovambos drive 4x4 Toyota pickups while the Himbas still follow their cattle? Was it just that missionaries came to Ovamboland first? Did the remote nature of Himba territory impede diffusion of Western culture? Or are there other factors at work?

Still pondering these questions, Nicola and I left the museum and wandered towards the old graveyard and church. Then, the sunset came. I sat down and let the flaming sun fill my soul. When I was a little child watching sunsets over the water in Wisconsin, their beauty made me feel a connection to a higher power. Since then, I always try to catch a sunset if possible because of their beauty and their spirituality. The spiritual feeling is not always there, but sometimes it is. This night, after a good day of exploring, I was grateful to feel it again. It was a fitting way to observe Easter and Passover.

When we woke the next morning, Nicola celebrated Easter by eating a piece of boring cake with a chunk of chocolate on it. I celebrated by running for 85 minutes. After that we took a short walk, found a bar named for my hometown team, and prepared to go home. As we started to pack up, however, we were interrupted – by a wedding!