The journey began with Brendon, a 20 year old I met in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia.
His communication felt like pure talent, and within minutes he naturally became one of us.
Talking with him felt like talking to a young rapper, and I quickly got drawn in.
The weather was gentle, so we went to a supermarket, bought random local snacks, and sat on the roadside to eat.
We talked about nothing in particular while slowly chewing the snacks.
Those easy moments were the first thing that taught me the temperature of Namibia.
The next day, we got on a long distance bus and headed north.
A Young Rapper
On the way, we got off near Grootfontein to spend the night.
We reached a campsite in heavy rain, but no one was there.
As we tried to set up our tent in the mud, three guard dogs barked endlessly at us.
At 1 am, headlights cut through the darkness and lit us up.
It was the cheerful owner, drunk and accompanied by a young girl.
In the rain, we told him we were from Japan, and from that moment we were called ’’Japan’’.
"Hey Japan, come to my place!"
He invited us to his house, and we drank all night at his bar, toasting every time our eyes met.
The next morning, he asked us, "What's the plan for today?" We told him we wanted to meet the Himba people, so he drove us there himself.
The Victim
The Perpetrator
The Himba women we met in the village were overwhelming.
The red paste called Otjize is not decoration but armor to survive the harsh land.
It protects their skin from the sun and insects, and also reflects their sense of beauty.
On their heads, they wear a crown called Erembe made from sheepskin.
It is worn by married women or those who have given birth, together with braided hair ornaments.
Age and life stage appear in their style, with different hair and accessories.
You can tell their stage of life just by looking.
In this place where water is very limited, they do not bathe in water.
Instead, they use smoke from burning wood and clean their bodies with ash.
These knowledge built over time forms their strong identity and pride.
Red and the Crown
Ritual in Smoke
At the welcome dance, no instruments were needed.
Only feet hitting the ground and hands clapping through the air.
Drawn by that raw rhythm, I joined the circle and danced with them.
Even without words in that shared beat, I felt close to this unfamiliar land.
But a journey never stays clean.
Welcome Dance
Joining the Welcome Dance
We asked the owner how to go on a safari without our own car, and he arranged a driver for us.
On the way, the driver asked for full payment in advance.
When I doubted him, he said,
"If I run away, you can tell the owner."
Trusting the owner's recommendation, I handed him the money, but that was the start of trouble.
Safari
After enjoying the safari, I called him at the agreed time and his voice had changed.
"If you don't pay more, I'm not coming to pick you up."
Stranded in the barren wilderness, we were forced to choose between camping out in the wild or paying the extra money. That’s when a plainclothes police officer, who happened to be there, approached us.
After hearing our story, he snatched the phone and began shouting furiously at the driver.
He truly fought for us, complete strangers from another country.
Hours later, that same car finally reappeared.
The next two hours were intense.
Still fueled by rage, the driver sped through the pitch-black road at 140 km/h
The driver’s frustrated face and the empty darkness rushing past the window.
When we finally reached Tsumeb and stepped out of the car, the silence of the night was all around us. Yet, the image of that 140 km/h speed was burned into my mind and wouldn't leave. [There were more struggles after that, but I’ll leave it there.]
After that baptism of fire, we made our way to Swakopmund.
The Origin of Stripes
The Oasis
Chaos in the Silence
A strangely calm town lined with pastel-colored buildings, where the deep traces of its German colonial past still remain.
That’s where we met Waylon.
When I told him we were from Japan, he jumped in excitedly, "I love anime!" and told us he was currently obsessed with BLEACH.
When I told him I loved it too, he said,
"Let's go watch it at my place right now!"
and just like that, we headed to his room.
In his one-room apartment, with the dry Namibian breeze blowing through, we sat side by side, simply watching the Soul Reapers battle on the screen.
Thanks to this simple similarity, I caught a glimpse of what daily life is like for people my age in Namibia.
For this, I have to thank my brother for introducing me to BLEACH.
Swakopmund
CMY
（BLE）×2 ACH
Everyone I met in Namibia had a complex, many-sided brilliance.
There was no right or wrong, there was just the overwhelming power of "being human."
I was completely captivated by Namibia, a place that is so unpredictable and so deeply human.
Thank you, Namibia
