Treesleeper

Here’s the story I wrote for Katie’s cousin Tess, who turns 3 one week later than Katie. One day, Katie drove with her family down a long road through dust and heat. At last they reached the forest of the Treesleepers. There, everyone walked quietly, listening to the news of the wind and sucking on dry sweet berries picked from the bushes. In the dark, kids danced and clapped and sang around a leaping fire. Katie’s family slept in a tree that night, just as the Bushmen had done to protect their hunt from lions so long ago. The next morning, 2 girls appeared out of the bush: we bought a hat as a birthday present and gave them each an apple. From an old carver, we bought a family of elephants. The orange one is of Tamboti, the Treesleepers’ tree.
The real story is almost that magical: Treesleeper now ranks at the top of our list of places to stay in Namibia. Check out www.treesleeper.org if you’re ever going to be in that neck of the woods with a tent – or even if you’re not, because the pictures are evocative.
It came as a surprise to me to learn that the !Kung are not the only Bushmen in Africa, contrary to what I’d learned from National Geographic and the like. In fact, there are at least 5 San (Bushmen) ethnic groups in Namibia, each speaking a click language so distinct that the groups often cannot understand each other. These groups traditionally differed in their distribution and also their degree of nomadism. All, however, had adapted culturally to survive in areas of incredibly low rainfall, knowing not just natural water points and edible succulents, but remembering where ostrich eggs filled with water had been buried, or reading the news of water in paintings left on rocks by previous travelers. They hunted with small bows that were effective primarily because of poison arrows – the array of poisonous plant species offers a wealth of possibilities. The Hei//omn group lived in northern Namibia, where Tamboti trees are sparsely distributed: these are relatively tall, with no lower branches and a Y-split in the trunk big enough to hold a person out of reach of predators. If a hunter killed game late in the day or far from camp, he could haul it into a tamboti tree and himself afterwards. Sometimes the hunters would prop poles with pegs against the trunk for easier climbing. Somewhat safer in the tree, they could sleep, or at least survive through the night: Hei//omn means Treesleeper. Just beyond living memory, San hunters walked 150 km from Okaukuejo to Namutoni, areas that are now resorts within Etosha National Park. The eviction letter for the San came when the park was established in 1907. For a hundred years, their hunting and gathering existence slowly eroded – when land is off-limits or private, a nomadic culture is squeezed out. Some San were hired on farms (we heard stories of farmers promising food and income to willing workers, then bringing them to a new place from which they could not easily return home, and not following through). Some worked as exceptional trackers for the South African army during the 1980s independence struggle (which may explain current discrimination from other ethnic groups). Some have been jailed for poaching on private land (killing a cow is apparently a much more serious offence than killing a kudu, regardless of whose land). At independence in 1990, the village of Tsintsabis, perhaps 100 km east of Etosha, was opened for “resettlement” of people with no land of their own and so is largely composed of San inhabitants. Housing construction has been borrowed from ethnic groups to the north – San people never used to make thatch roofs or reinforce walls with cowdung/ termite mound clay. So has basketry – palm fronds from the Makalani are woven for laundry containers or food storage. Each year, maize seeds are distributed for planting – at this time of year, it was difficult to judge the success, although the harvest was reported to be high. There were village chickens, but not laying (chickens are non-ruminants, so we immediately began trying to diagnose the egg problem, or at least trying to dispel the myth that a rooster was required to get eggs). A program of providing 2 goats per family to start herds had a short-term result of increasing goat meat in the village diet, but a similar program for cows (starting with fewer families, and requiring “repayment” in the form of passing along cows to the next family) seemed to be a bit more successful. Still, the older people in the village wondered what was the point of agriculture when the bush still held so much food that was simply there for the taking.
We took advantage of every opportunity offered at Treesleeper to learn about history and culture: We walked to the village with a guide, bringing some food as a thank-you present to the families that met with us. We walked through the bush with a guide, learning some of the plants that were traditionally used and watching in amazement as a twirling stick turned into fire in a matter of minutes. We saw a set of dances performed by teenagers who are part of the Traditional Dance group at their school in town – we only wished there had been a CD available of their clapping and singing, because it was some of the best music we’ve heard in Namibia. Maybe it helps if you’ve walked down a long, winding trail in the dark and into a clearing of firelight, huts, and smiling faces. We slept in trees. Okay, well, Abby and Teddy pitched their tent on the 10-foot platform built against a strangler fig. Katie, Alan and I still slept in the Kombi. Also in contrast to the original Treesleepers, we had a private flush (!) toilet and hot shower (solar heater thoughtfully donated by the US ambassador).
Treesleeper is entirely run by San – most seem in their mid-20s and are computer-savvy and exceptionally good with tourists. We enjoyed the staff immensely. The design and implementation of the camp were apparently facilitated by a visiting graduate student (wow!) in anthropology, who helped turn an idea into a business plan worthy of financial support from the Dutch government. Large groups of young people from overseas (we’ve encountered several that we’d never heard of before: Raleigh International, World Challenge…) helped build the campsites. The camp had about 600 visitors in 2007, which looks to be doubling this year. In general, Namibia is recognized as a world leader in Community-based Natural Resources Management, which has empowered local groups to diversify their activities and therefore strengthen the economic return from their (otherwise arid, pretty unproductive) land. Community rest camps or campsites are a prime example, because they attract tourists. Tourists go places where they can see wildlife and striking natural features. So, communities shift emphasis towards conservation of natural resources, rather than just using land to grow sheep, cows, and goats. Treesleeper Camp has carved out a different sort of niche: this has been necessary because, in fact, this community has not been granted conservancy land, but only a lease on 10 ha. Against all odds, Treesleeper has emerged as a luxury camp with this tourist attraction: the opportunity to visit a cultural group, not as a voyeur or spectator, but as a participant in their development.