Opuwo was our last stop before heading into the remote desert of Northwest Namibia for two weeks. We spent several nights in this clean, but very dry and dusty campsite in the middle of town. During the days we had lists of essentials to do and collect. Chain block, check. Liquor store, check. Warm pants from Pep, check. New music downloaded, check. Airtime on the Sat Phone, check. When we weren’t preparing to go into the desert, we would play with the camp owner’s kids 3 and 7 years old.
The kids kept us busy. The youngest one would pepper us with his knowledge about car parts and would reply to everything with “I told you so.” His father would later tell us that he was too clever for his own good and had driven his truck into the front gate just 6 weeks earlier.
We listened to music, played soccer with an empty 2-liter plastic bottle, and ran around with their water guns. These water guns had a specific purpose. They boys never sprayed each other – only the dirt. They would fill them and fiercely empty the canisters into the ground making mud. When the earth was suitably saturated, we’d roll the mud into balls, let them dry and then smash them. And that is how you make mud bubbles.
Uwe and I made fire, preparing for dinner and gently positioned maybe 6 or 7 mud bubbles on the braai grid to cook them over fire (dried out for maximum destruction). When the boys came around and saw what we were up to I sarcastically replied, “We are having them for dinner” and THEY told me I was crazy. My humor can be as dry as the mud bubbles and we carried on making dinner. The older one came to check on us and asked when we would eat the mud bubbles and declared if I would eat it, he would have one as well. Slathering mine in German mustard while he opted for chili – we bumped bubbles and I took a bite. Hands down the worst thing I have eaten in my life.