Community tourism is a growing phenomenon for its popularity with foreign tourists. By Catherine Sasman SWAKOPMUND It is not uncommon these days to see hordes of camera-slinging, bespectacled tourists roaming the dusty streets of Mondesa and the DRC, the two poorest townships at the coastal town of Swakopmund. They are there to breathe in a “real African experience”, away from their luxury hotel rooms and predictable buffet lunches. Tired of the usual “landscape and wild animals” experience, these tourists – wittingly or unwittingly – opt for a four-hour walk through the streets of the townships for the opportunity of an intimate peek into the houses and lives of people living there, to share just for a short while their cultures and traditions. “We market a truly Namibian cultural experience and give tourists the opportunity to meet Namibian people,” says Charlotte Shigwedha, owner of the Mondesa Township Tours. “Previously, culture and traditions were left out of the tourism experience. Now, we take tourists off the beaten track. This is tourism through an African perspective,” she emphasizes. The concept of “informal tourism” – describing the kind of tourism services offered in the supplier’s household normal facilities with payment expected – is on the increase and is a potential gold mine to be tapped more vigorously. This is according to Manfred Gaeb, the City of Windhoek’s Senior Tourism Officer. Community tourism in the country started off in Windhoek’s formerly disadvantaged neighbourhoods where locals use their facilities as catchment areas of tourists that habitually just pass through the city. “Community tourism is becoming huge,” he stresses. “It looks at empowering people.” The Council of the City of Windhoek has approved training for bed-and-breakfast establishments and other small restaurants in Khomasdal and Katutura. Due to the success of this form of grassroots tourism, the City also, upon request, can avail other towns and villages a “blueprint” of how to go about their initiatives. “The Katutura Heritage Route serves as a very good example,” says Gaeb. “A lot has been developed along the route, agreements have been designed by our legal division, and we have lots of experience in liaising with the private sector and other stakeholders.” Shigwedha took the cue of Windhoek, when she started out in 2002 at the behest of her former employers, Georges and Justine Locher, who ran the overland safari group, Gava Explorations. Fuelled by her 2002 Namibian Young Entrepreneur Award, Shigwedha, then 25, aimed to start up her own business. “I wanted to share all my experiences with my local community. I want to share with them every step of the way,” she now says. The township tours became an immediate hit with the mostly European tourists. The locals, however, took some time to get used to the prying and probing and photographing of these visiting Westerners. “At the beginning there was a lot of confusion. The locals asked, ‘What are these people doing here?’ and ‘Why do they come to the township?’ or ‘They take pictures of us to sell to magazines in their countries’,” explains Shigwedha. But after a series of open meetings in the townships, she says, people’s attitudes changed and they opened their homes and life stories to the visitors. “Now there is only joy and laughter among the tourists and the community. The tourists feel safe to walk through our streets, unlike in South Africa,” she says, adding, “We may be poor, but we have nothing to be ashamed of. We have a lot to offer. Namibia’s people have very rich and interesting lives.” The new initiative was also not very warmly received by other big tour operators. “They thought that we were stealing their clients. But this is a product that should be owned by previously disadvantaged people. Big operators should not steal the bread from our mouths,” remonstrates Shigwedha. Daily tours start at the entrance of Mondesa where the tourists are dropped off. “And then they walk our streets,” says Shigwedha. “We are trying to get them out of the buses that drive through the townships, with people taking pictures of us behind their shattered windows. We want them to immerse into the township.” And, she says, a close encounter with the locals is usually a life-changing experience for many visitors. “We have visitors who say they have never experienced something like this,” she says. “They have travelled the world, but have never been given the opportunity to see how people really live in the places they visit.” What makes the Mondesa township tours unique is that everything is stripped from the habitual touristy flair. Here, people do what they usually do. They dress as they usually would. And they eat and drink what they usually would have. Nothing is a set-up. Trailing Shigwedha as she goes on her usual route through the streets, one gets the impression of merely having dropped in for a warm and familiar house visit. Taxi driver, Eliander Kamwandi, is usually called upon to drive visitors to the entrance of the township, or around Swakopmund and Walvis Bay. His taxi, points out Shigwedha, is spic and span, and always on time. “I am very concerned about my customers,” says Kamwandi. “People do not know the place and I take them where they want to go and explain to them where we go.” The first stop is Shigwedha’s parental home. “I wanted to personalize the trip, and that is why I included our house.” The house is a two-bed roomed home from the old apartheid-era architecture. Outside her brother, Frans, works on his car engines, and children are playing in the sandy yard. “The tourists are always amazed that nine people could live here,” she laughs. “And they are even more amazed to learn that we have not had electricity until independence, and that the toilet stands removed from the house.” The family opens up to the tourists and tells them some of the town’s history, the struggle days, their day-to-day experiences, how to pound mahangu. Her younger sister, Sendme (Sammy, 19), has joined the business as a tour guide. “I couldn’t find any other work. I have since started to build my own contacts and references. I see a future in this business and would like to take this concept nationally. But I first need a driver’s licence,” she smiles. The next stop is at the Surprise Arts and Craft Centre, owned and run by Sylvia Guriras. The centre is at a corner of the house, and is distinctive by its beautifully-drawn animals and plants. Guriras emerges from behind a silvery curtain when she notices her visitors. “I easily get up to 85 travellers per day,” she says. They come and buy hand-embroidered bags, CDs from local artists, and other local trinkets. “I want to be successful one day and share my knowledge with people,” she muses. At the house of Angelika Kaijo, visitors get enticed by the old folklore of the Hereros. Kaijo, who started out with Shigwedha in 2002, shows her guests how Herero fat is made in a calabash, and how the Herero powder used by women is made from an assortment of leaves and roots. And then, of course, there is always wonderment about the Herero dress and pointy headgear, the otjikaiva. She used to sell Herero dolls – dubbed the Angelika dolls by her customers – but has since stopped because with domestic workers’ wages she finds the materials for the dolls too expensive. “I tried to get the children to wear the omutjira (the traditionally worn leather loincloth) around the house for local flair,” she says after clearly having failed at this attempt. But she wears her Herero dress at all times, chimes in Shigwedha. “It is not just for special occasions, you know.” Visitors to the makeshift home of Joseph and Josefina Kambrude are welcomed by the warm sounds of Joseph’s blow horn. The kudu horn is his instrument that he carries with him as he shows and points out things to the travellers. On one of the walls hangs a small blackboard with basic Nama words. Joseph usually takes his guests through the various clicking sounds of words. “I explain to them the difficulties of the language and teach them things such as greetings. Basically, I give them an overview of the language,” says Joseph. Josefina enriches the visit by showing off her gathered traditional Nama medicines. She is a traditional herbalist, and often finds great interest from tourists in the medical profession. In her bundle are tortoise and ostrich shells. “That is good for diarrhoea and spots on the skin,” she shows. An unassuming-looking thin stick called the swart storm (or black storm), adds Joseph, strengthens the kidneys and liver, and has a very potent, anti-toxic effect on the body. The Medical Council, says Josefina, certifies much of her medicines. They include the devil’s claw and the !nara root, which “flushes out the body”. But at this stage she does not sell these medicines, but merely keeps them on exhibition for her clients. “Our clients often strike up long-lasting friendships with the people they have met on our trips,” boasts Shigwedha. In his farewell, Joseph again lifts his horn from his lap and blows out a long ceremonial tune. “Goodbye and God bless,” he waves.