Where do Buchter Girls come from?

“The Buchter Girls” as we are known this year or “The Buchter Volunteers” as we are all known in general are sent annually by an educational charity called Project Trust and have been coming to Luderitz since 1987 Project Trust is a Scottish based charity and sends school leavers all over the world to work on community based projects, usually in schools, community centres or hospitals.

To get a place with Project Trust volunteers undergo a selection process followed by a year of fundraising and a week of training all on a small Hebridean island off the coast of Scotland.

         So how did this years Buchter Girls get a place with Project Trust and how did we wind up in Luderitz?

At the knobbly kneed age of just-turned-16, one chilly English morning, I travelled from rainy Wiltshire in Southern England for 17 hours on the train to Oban in Scotland. Closely followed by a 3 hour ferry journey to the equally rainy Isle of Coll- a small Hebridean island just off the coast of Oban. A windy island with more sheep than people. 4 days passed of interviews, essays, presentation and outdoor activities such as digging potato lazy beds ( I felt particularly well prepared for a year in Luderitz following the latter task…!) The course was concluded with a Ceilidh – a traditional Scottish dance. Then of course followed the 3 hour ferry ride and 17 hour train journey home for a nail biting three day wait. A wait to find out if my potato digging had been adept enough to cinch me a place with Project Trust. It would seem my potatoes were well enough cultivated and I was accepted with a place to work in China for 12 months starting in August. Before going abroad each volunteer must fundraise a daunting £4950 for the charity- the equivalent of about $51000 Namibian Dollars. And so followed a year of writing hundreds of letters to Trust Funds, organising fundraising events and taking part in mad sponsored activities all highly necessary to reach the final sum.

         It was not until May last year that I found out in August I would not in fact be going to China in August but sunny Africa instead – Luderitz to be precise. Here in Luderitz volunteers have been running the Buchter News since 1987 today we also work at Brightstart Montessori school and The Valombola crèche in Area 7. We also have the opportunity to work on Secondary Projects, Jess has been working with the ECVC and recently organised a beach clean up or the OVC’s and I have been teaching Grade 12 History once a week at the High School.

         So there we go that’s our tale, that’s where Buchter Girls come from. From Coll to Luderitz, and all it took was a 17 hour train journey, a 3 hour Ferry ride, a selection course a training course and $51,000NAM of fundraising! All for a year in Luderitz – worth every penny. 

What do your shoes say about you?

A relatively wise man recently warned me: “Whatever you do, just make sure you don’t wear out a pair of shoes here, otherwise you’ll end up staying in Luderitz forever!”

As I pondered these words of caution I looked down to my feet at my battered old shoes; wrinkled leathery skin creased into smiles at the toes, laces thinned by time, simple souls softened by sand - well on their way to being “worn out.”

         I realised these tattered old shoes tell a story. Every step I have taken in Luderitz since arriving 7 months ago has been mapped out in the material covering my feet. That awkward stone that I carried through town all the way to the Valombola crèche in Area 7 one unsuspecting Tuesday morning has been noted down in the fine indentation at the heel. The countless times I have tripped over that step outside Brightstart have been meticulously recorded and have slowly worked the soles loose from the shoe leaving a slight gaping mouth at the toe. The stitching has come undone at the sides unravelling just a little more with each step. Tales etched in thread.

My point is - (not that I am in dire need of new shoes and am fishing for a donation...!) but that we do not only leave footsteps behind us, we carry them with us always in our footwear, the places we have been are trapped in a tapestry of leather, canvas and rubber. Distances are inscribed in thickness of your soles. The indentations and imperfections beg the question: “Buchters! What do your shoes say about you?”

Your shoes hide no secrets, have you been relying on your car too much lately? Your shoes are looking just a little bit too pristine, the toes are in need of laughter lines. Did you avoid the puddles on Luderitz’s token rainy day this year? The leather is thirsty. Do you avoid the sandy pavements and stick to the tar? The soles are in need of cushioning.

         My own shoes? Well they have splashed through many puddles, embedded themselves in piles of sand and they have certainly seen a lot of walking, - for 7 months to the High School and back once a week, to Valombola and back twice a week (not to mention tripping over Brightstart’s front step more times than I can count...) Many kind Buchters have stopped and offered lifts during these weekly walks, thank you to those of you who have done so – I appreciate it, especially on those windy days! But my steps have a story to tell, I have already worn out three pairs of shoes here, and I am glad to have done so. My shoes have been well used; they were made for walking and have certainly not been sitting idle in my wardrobe!

But to return to our earlier mentioned wise mans warning, I replied: “Not to worry, there is a fine shoe repairer at the Waterfront. I know him well...!”

Who are Luderitz's Learners?

A typical scene at Luderitz Secondary School:

The bell rings and learners file into the classroom as a teacher stands by the black board, chalk poised, ready to begin.

But who are the learners? Do they consist only of those behind desks?

Coming from the UK where we would use the term “students”, I find this term “learners” unusual. It seems to draw a line between teacher and pupil implying that each in the class room has a sole function. Either to learn or to teach.

Having spent 14 years behind a desk and the last 7 months standing by the black board, chalk poised ready to begin, I can conclude that this couldn’t be further from the truth. I have learnt more in the last 7 months as a “teacher” than all my 14 years as a “learner” put together.

I have learnt to love the early morning walks to school, on the road out of Luderitz to Valombola kindergarten, the way the sun rises behind the mist warming the ground the desert unfurls, we are waking up.

I have learnt that whilst here I will always have sand in my shoes.

I have learnt to pick up the “Luderitz Lilt” a gentle tilt of tongue towards the end of a sentence, or the addition of a “hey?” to make a simple statement a question.

I have learnt that walking down the street people smile and wave (not always the case in the UK.)

I have learnt that here in Luderitz, wearing sunglasses is necessary almost all the time to shield you from the onslaught of sandy wind.

I have learnt many things which have shocked me over the last 7 months, and many things which have made me smile.

Whether whilst in the classroom we are the ones holding chalk or the ones sitting behind a desk and whilst on the street we are wearing sunglasses or feeling the perpetual crunch of sand in our shoes, we are all learners and always will be.

To all those students in your last year of High School preparing for Metric exams, feeling relieved that your years as a learner are finally drawing to a end, then I’m afraid I have some bad news for you. As Winston Churchill would say:

“This is not the end.

Nor is it the beginning of the end.

It is however the end of the beginning.”

What brings you here?

People come to Africa for all sorts of reasons. Usually though it seems to be that they are searching for something. Maybe Diamond Fever has taken hold and they seek the tantalising touch of instant fortune. Or perhaps simply they look for a breathtaking landscape or incredible game. Some search deeper, hoping to find something in one of the world’s only remaining continents which still holds space to think. They come looking for themselves.

         Luderitz is certainly one such place, without a doubt people travel here in full pursuit of Something. Once upon a time, hordes of men flocked to Luderitz and turned to madness searching for diamonds in our surrounding desert. Tourists fly here to find the landscape and animals they came looking for, satisfied, they take snapshots of their “Africa experience” and head home.

         This town is wrapped with spacious seas to the west and sparkling    Sperrgebiet to the east. Stretching sands uninterrupted for miles. You can breathe here. Space and stunning views certainly big enough to both lose and find yourself at the same time.

People often ask me, “What brings you here?” “Why come to Luderitz?” Or, “what are you hoping to find here?”

I am still looking for an answer to that myself. If it was for fortune, I came to the wrong place.

Diamonds dried up long ago.

I’ve certainly uncovered incredible landscapes and seen animals I never thought I would. But does that necessitate a year here?

I think not.

If I came to find myself, I have not succeeded. 6 months, 26 weeks and 182 days down, and I am already totally and utterly lost to this place. I fear I will never be found.

This doesn’t worry me.

I came to Luderitz, to this windy corner of the Namib, looking not for a quick fix of fortune or a glimse of game, but simply in search of stories. I have already found some, I will make some more and hopefully leave a few behind. The people I have met, places I have visited and incidents that followed have begun to weave a rich tapestry of tales. I know I’ll have plenty of stories to tell when I return to England in August, but I want more.

         With half a year down and half a year still to go, the clock is ticking unforgiving as ever. Over the next 6 months, 26 weeks and 182 days, as I lose myself more and more in this windy town I want to do things and see things that are worth writing down, passing on and remembering. I suppose what brings me here, the thing I am looking for at present is an interesting past which I will enjoy remembering in the future. 

The Real Thing

Life in Luderitz at times can feel almost European: the smart waterfront, rows of shops and unpredictable weather, but I must ask, can this relatively modern town be “The Real Africa?”

         Six weeks ago we left Luderitz and travelled north along the Caprivi strip. Stepping into the Caprivi felt like we had stepped back in time. With each mile the relatively developed world of southern Namibia slipped further away, transforming into the developing world of the northern Caprivi. Bricks and Mortar were gradually replaced with mud and sticks to make circular huts with immaculate thatch roofing. Women wrapped in brightly coloured scarves and layers of beads, carrying impossibly heavy loads on their heads with perfect balance and a kind of graceful lyricism. Collecting water, cooking, cleaning and farming, the sun beats down whilst the men sit and watch, smoking outside Shebeens drinking the dodgy but lethal local brew of Shake-Shake. This is their way of life. It feels like nothing has changed for the last 100 years. The villages of the Caprivi are all utterly different to Luderitz. Here amongst the huts and heat it feels like the real Africa, but what is the real Africa? This idyllically archaic way of life, filled with predominately patriarchal societies and tropical warmth? Surely it is patronising to believe that the entire continent consists of mud huts, sun and colourfully adorned women?

We must return to Luderitz.

As we drive along the poker-cue-straight road between Aus and Luderitz, with the glittering Sperrgebiet stretching as far as the eye can see, I realise that the Caprivi’s lush tropical greenery cannot single-handedly be The Real Africa, but nor can Luderitz’s dry desert moonscape alone be “The Real Thing”. Africa is a tumultuous mix of developed and developing societies side by side, and in Namibia’s case, these societies exist within the same country. Namibia’s beauty lies in its changing faces, the diversity of dunes and tropics side by side. Round each corner you will be faced with a completely different landscape filled with unique people and cultures. Simply cross regions and you seem to cross centuries. A melting pot of time zones, shifting landscapes and clamour of cultures, it is this assorted jumble of old and new all together which, to me, is “The Real Africa.” •