Candle in the Wind(hoek)

I still remember the day I took my trip to Windhoek like it was yesterday. I had spent the days preceding my departure at one of Africa’s greatest gay gatherings, the Mother City Queer Project (MCQP) in Cape Town. The year was 2011 and the theme was Maid In China. This was my first MCQP and it lived up to all of my expectations. My journey started in the morning of 19 December with a brisk walk from my hotel at the V&A to the Cape Town train station. Yes, you read it right; I took a 23-hour bus ride from Cape Town to Windhoek.

I honestly do not know what had possessed me to take a journey by bus alone instead of flying to Windhoek. I had not been in a bus since 2007 but something in me made me think it was a good idea to be on a bus for 23 hours instead of flying for two hours. My decision may have been informed by the fact that the bus ride was less than $100 vs. at least $300 by plane. After a few minutes of admin and finding my bus we were on our way. I was excited. I came prepared with my snacks, music and a power pack for when my iPod would give up on me. I was that super eager guy in row 22!

The most beautiful thing about this journey was meeting all the different people that were making their way from Cape Town to their homes for the Christmas holiday season. I met a lovely lady (we shall call her Grace) who had just completed her Masters degree at the University of Western Cape in economics from Windhoek who gave me a bit of a background on the country’s politics and economic policies. I also met gentlemen who were making their way to Angola and the DRC. I quite enjoyed the conversations with all these people and one particular one was with Grace when she was telling me about her decision to quit her job and go study full time after her divorce. Grace was also very kind to give me a blanket at night. I don’t know what I was thinking – I just assumed that the bus company would provide us with blankets like they do on planes. Now I (and you) know.

The gentlemen from Angola and DRC at one of our stops before crossing the Namibian border.

We arrived in Windhoek at 8 am after an uneventful ride after we crossed the Namibian border. Note to self: the next time you decide to take a bus ride that crosses any borders just make sure it is not over the Christmas period. I was very lucky that the bus stopped right outside my hotel in the city center, Hilton (don’t side-eye me, yes I took a bus to go stay in a 5* hotel). I must mention that that was by far the best hotel I stayed in during my travels. Their attention to detail was awesome. Perhaps I was happy with the fact that they allowed me to check in early AND have breakfast. I am tempted to say that this was the best part of my Windhoek stay.

This is all I traveled with. This is me awaiting my room to be ready at the lobby of the Hilton Hotel Windhoek

Scrumptious breakfast at the Hilton Windhoek

The city is very clean! It reminds me of a small German town I have never been to or a small version of Bloemfontein, a South African city. I searched the city for Namibian cuisine and all I was met with was German cuisine that was drenched in oil enough to deep fry a pea. Honestly my disappointment at this city came from the fact that it had no identity of its own. It was the tenth province of South Africa – I could still use my South African Rands throughout the city and dine out at the same South African chain restaurants.

I spent my days lounging my hotel's rooftop bar and sending my friends pictures of the cocktails I was having and the spectacular views of the sunset.

The nights were more eventful. I went to the local bars and clubs to meet people. I went for the One Namibian Dollar shots special at Fashion Bar in the outskirts of the city. Again, it didn’t feel like I left South Africa. The only saving grace was Chez Ntemba and their zouk/Kizomba music. I thoroughly enjoyed the Angolan and Congolese patrons (men) and their warm welcome and flirting (which I didn’t mind at all).

I also quite enjoyed seeing the beautiful OvaHimba ladies in their full traditional gear and their famous natural long hair. The OvaHimba are a tribe from the North of Namibia and are the last nomadic people of Namibia.

Calling the Kuchu

I have been meaning to write this since 2012. I have had so many versions hereof and I have discarded so many of them. I just never thought I would be able to articulate my experiences the way that I ought to. The funny thing is that whenever I tell people my story they are always fascinated and always want to hear more. So today is the day that I tell my story of being a gay traveller in Africa.

I think this is a perfect time to write this. The moment one says gay and Africa in the same sentence the first thing that comes to mind is death and all associated emotions. Admit it! I did too. My first thought was how I would have to act in order to be accepted. Being born and bred in South Africa I got accustomed to being myself and pay little attention to how my sexuality came across to people.

One particular moment that stands out was my trip from Nairobi, Kenya to Kampala, Uganda. I had always wanted to go to Kampala but I was, of course, scared to go there. I had planned my entire East African trip and left a few days opened for Kampala but didn’t book any flights and accommodation, just in case I changed my mind. The excitement of being in Mombasa and Nairobi and meeting kuchus (slang for gays) gave me the strength to go forth and book my flight to Kampala the next few days before heading to Tanzania.

I had a few problems (in my mind, of course). All of my clothes were quite ‘gay’. Just to paint a picture – I had this old man give me the eye of disapproval on my way to catch a matatu on Moi Avenue in Mombasa because my luminous orange short shorts probably hurt his eyes. I then decided that I needed to get clothes that made me look more (this word is debatable) butch *chuckle*. Off I went to the shops in Westgate, Nairobi! I managed to find some baggy pants and a blazer to wear to the airport so I can at least get my Visa. Now that I think of it, it was rather a dumb idea to think that clothes would make me look butch. But hey…

The morning of my trip came. I had mixed emotions! I was sweating up a storm. The clothes were too big and I was nervous. But I was excited to finally go and see Kampala and Makerere University, which for me should be the Havard of Africa. I sat next to a very unfriendly man that didn’t greet me back after I used my best KiSwahili to say hi to him. The fun began in Entebbe Airport, Uganda, when I had to go get my visa. I had my $50 in hand, my passport a big smile and a butch walk to match. Perhaps I should have left the smile behind. I greeted the lady at the desk in KiSwahili, I should have learnt some Buganda, and she was really nice and complemented my good KiSwahili. We chatted a bit about me being from Sauzi (South Africa) and I became quite comfortable. I completely forgot that I was meant to be straight acting. I picked my bags up and off I sashayed to get a taxi.

On the way to Entebbe I found myself disappointed at myself. Disappointed to have listened to the negative media about Africa. Western media! I actually cried! The drive from Entebbe was the most beautiful drive ever and I would not have experienced it had I not taken that step to not be afraid. I didn’t care what would happen to me when I get to Kampala. I was happy to have taken the bold step to see my continent. The sight of Victoria Lake took me back to my childhood when we learnt about the greatest lakes in Africa. And at that point I decided that I was going to write this to you and tell you to be brave and take that bold step in going to see the beautiful Africa.

My experiences in Africa have been nothing short of amazing. I have made friends that have become family. I have learnt to get out of my comfort zone – learnt a new language, gate crashed a wedding, took a boda boda (motorbike) that had no lights in the middle of the night from a club without a helmet, taken a matatu (local taxi) to Watumu from Mombasa without a map but the help of locals, stopped at a bar that looked busy and had a few beers, the list is endless. Not once have I felt discriminated. I understand that my experience may not be the same as everyone else’s.  

Bill Bryson summed it all up and said “to my mind, the greatest reward and luxury of travel is to be able to experience everyday things as if for the first time, to be in a position in which almost nothing is so familiar it is taken for granted.”  I look forward to sharing more of my travels in Africa with you.

By Mel M

Mel M is a young gay man with itchy feet and wanderlust tendencies. During most days he is an accountant and by night and other days he transforms into a travel addict that spends most of the time looking up destinations and being in those. His love for the African continent has had him travel to 12 African countries in two years and hasn't stopped. His travels aren't only limited to the African continent.