By Roxanne Reid
We were passing through Kamanjab in Namibia’s Kunene district when we saw a Himba woman in traditional dress pulling a wheelie suitcase to the bus stop as if she was in an international airport – a strange jumble of two very different cultures. Now we were on our way to meet a whole village of Himba women and children but my dilemma over the clash of cultures was still prickling at the back of my mind.
We were passing through Kamanjab in Namibia’s Kunene district when we saw a Himba woman in traditional dress pulling a wheelie suitcase to the bus stop as if she was in an international airport – a strange jumble of two very different cultures. Now we were on our way to meet a whole village of Himba women and children but my dilemma over the clash of cultures was still prickling at the back of my mind.
We found the village in the Anabeb Conservancy surrounded by mopane trees, which the Himba use for stomach pain or diarrhoea, boiling the leaves then drinking the water. ‘For headache they burn elephant dung and sniff the smoke, for back pain they tie the mustard bush around their middle,’ said our Himba guide Ueera Kasaona. Traditional medicine is the first recourse when someone is sick; if that doesn’t work then they’ll consult a traditional healer. The clinic is the last resort.
 |  |
The settlement we visited was about a kilometre from a spring and we watched the women returning with their plastic jugs filled. At this homestead a headman lived with his three wives and their children. ‘The family chooses the first wife and they like to choose cousins because that way the cattle used for the bride price stay in the family,’ said Ueera.
He told us he wasn’t married; the bride price was three cows and he couldn’t afford even the cheapest cows that go for N$3000 apiece. (He did have a girlfriend and two children.) One of the three cows goes to the bride’s mother, one to her father and the last is slaughtered for the wedding feast. ‘One man might have 500 to 600 head of cattle and if he’s this rich he can have five or six wives,’ Ueera noted.
He told us he wasn’t married; the bride price was three cows and he couldn’t afford even the cheapest cows that go for N$3000 apiece. (He did have a girlfriend and two children.) One of the three cows goes to the bride’s mother, one to her father and the last is slaughtered for the wedding feast. ‘One man might have 500 to 600 head of cattle and if he’s this rich he can have five or six wives,’ Ueera noted.
The interaction
There’s an undeniable beauty and elegance about the Himba women that’s quite seductive, and probably explains why they’re in such demand among photographers both professional and amateur. For me it was more to learn about their culture, how to tell a girl from a woman, a mother from a woman who hasn’t yet had children.
There’s an undeniable beauty and elegance about the Himba women that’s quite seductive, and probably explains why they’re in such demand among photographers both professional and amateur. For me it was more to learn about their culture, how to tell a girl from a woman, a mother from a woman who hasn’t yet had children.
But the women and I had no common language and had to rely solely on Ueera to translate. He was great at telling us about some of the items of clothing the women wore and what they signified, but it was frustrating not to be able to connect with them directly, to ask them how they coped with the heat or the scarcity of water, what worried them or what made them happy.
There was no language barrier with the children, who only wanted to high-five us and giggle and play, so it was easy to make a connection even without words. Some of them hid inside a grain storage hut on stilts, laughing when we caught them peeping out at us.
One of the women invited us to duck inside her hut so she could show us how she applied the red ochre mix to her skin. Knowing that traditionally this concoction is made using ochre and butterfat, it was a surprise to see her take the red earth from a small cow-horn box, sprinkle some into the palm of one hand and then take a glob of Vaseline out of a plastic jar to mix in with it before smoothing some onto her arm and mine.
It wasn’t the only example of how modern life is nibbling away at traditions that are hundreds of years old. Whereas in the old days they used to make their elegant hair extensions themselves from cow’s tails, Ueera told us that nowadays they buy them readymade from the market in Opuwo. We also saw bracelets decorated with intricate etchings but made of PVC piping.
Given the scarcity of water in this dry land, women don’t use it for washing. To clean her body, clothes and blankets, our hostess showed us how she used the perfumed smoke of burning aromatic plants and resins mixed with fat. She either bent over the perfumed smoke or covered herself with a blanket to trap the smoke underneath for a full smoke bath.
Given the scarcity of water in this dry land, women don’t use it for washing. To clean her body, clothes and blankets, our hostess showed us how she used the perfumed smoke of burning aromatic plants and resins mixed with fat. She either bent over the perfumed smoke or covered herself with a blanket to trap the smoke underneath for a full smoke bath.
Some herbs are mixed with fat and spread on a woman’s neck a lot more liberally than we in the West would apply perfume. To clean a blanket, she put a conical basket over the smoke and lay the blanket on top of that, moving it around every now and then so all areas were refreshed by the fragrant smoke.
The day was searingly hot. We watched a woman skinning a baby goat that had died earlier that morning and it was already beginning to smell. It was a reminder not to romanticise their lives; no matter how elegant and beautiful the Himba women are, their life in this hot, dry area is a hard one.
The day was searingly hot. We watched a woman skinning a baby goat that had died earlier that morning and it was already beginning to smell. It was a reminder not to romanticise their lives; no matter how elegant and beautiful the Himba women are, their life in this hot, dry area is a hard one.
The dilemma
We’d brought maize meal as a gift to exchange for their hospitality, and we bought some craft items the women had made to remember our visit by. But I’m conflicted. Such cultural interactions can be handled sensitively and with respect, but seeing firsthand how some of ancient traditions – think Vaseline and Indian-made hair braids – are already changing in the face of outside influence, I wonder whether the food and income we brought was enough to counterbalance the invasion of privacy, the inevitability of change.
‘Every culture has been eroded by somebody or something else,’ says Neil Shaw, project manager at a local non-profit organisation that helps rural entrepreneurs revitalise their communities through tourism that provides authentic experiences for travellers.
We’d brought maize meal as a gift to exchange for their hospitality, and we bought some craft items the women had made to remember our visit by. But I’m conflicted. Such cultural interactions can be handled sensitively and with respect, but seeing firsthand how some of ancient traditions – think Vaseline and Indian-made hair braids – are already changing in the face of outside influence, I wonder whether the food and income we brought was enough to counterbalance the invasion of privacy, the inevitability of change.
‘Every culture has been eroded by somebody or something else,’ says Neil Shaw, project manager at a local non-profit organisation that helps rural entrepreneurs revitalise their communities through tourism that provides authentic experiences for travellers.
 |  |
‘Europeans don’t live how they lived 1000 years ago so why should we expect Himbas or any African culture to live exactly as their ancestors did?’ he asks. ‘That’s why I’m in favour of the principles upheld by the Living Culture Foundation Namibia, which supports traditional cultures in reclaiming their cultures in an entrepreneurial way without undermining their integrity and dignity.’
He’s referring to what they call living museums dotted around Namibia where the locals act out the traditional customs of their ancestors. ‘In the evenings it’s their choice to don a pair of jeans and watch a little TV. Why should this be any different for the Himba, or others?’
I understand what he’s saying and I hope that change can be on their terms, not imposed by what might be unwanted contact with outsiders. Isolation is what has kept the Himba culture and traditions intact over hundreds of years. Now it’s being chipped away little by little. So forgive me if I worry that my yearning to connect through such cultural interactions – whatever my intentions – might destroy the very thing that I find so beautiful, so different, so valuable. I’m not conceited enough to believe that everything Western civilisation can offer them is necessarily an improvement.
What do you think? Let me know in the comments below.
He’s referring to what they call living museums dotted around Namibia where the locals act out the traditional customs of their ancestors. ‘In the evenings it’s their choice to don a pair of jeans and watch a little TV. Why should this be any different for the Himba, or others?’
I understand what he’s saying and I hope that change can be on their terms, not imposed by what might be unwanted contact with outsiders. Isolation is what has kept the Himba culture and traditions intact over hundreds of years. Now it’s being chipped away little by little. So forgive me if I worry that my yearning to connect through such cultural interactions – whatever my intentions – might destroy the very thing that I find so beautiful, so different, so valuable. I’m not conceited enough to believe that everything Western civilisation can offer them is necessarily an improvement.
What do you think? Let me know in the comments below.
The Himba point of view
The Himbas have been the subject of countless photographs. A few years ago they turned the tables and decided to get behind the lens themselves to portray their life. The result was a short film called ‘The Himbas are Shooting!’ and you can see a trailer here.
Like it? Pin this image!
The Himbas have been the subject of countless photographs. A few years ago they turned the tables and decided to get behind the lens themselves to portray their life. The result was a short film called ‘The Himbas are Shooting!’ and you can see a trailer here.
Like it? Pin this image!
You may also enjoy
The Himba: the supermodels of Kunene
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
The Himba: the supermodels of Kunene
Copyright © Roxanne Reid - No words or photographs on this site may be used without permission from roxannereid.co.za
