In Namibia the distances are dust. They are calculated eye, or that they have at least they do the birds when they cross the long wooden troughs and salt with the fear of being wrong and reach a place. No time in Namibia, it's not possible, do not allow the dead days that have always come. And how do then? "There is no way, nothing is done so that nothing happens. So everything happens ", we answered eyes.
And the lines are strokes on the map, roads through which you never have. Because to the sides of us there is so much desert that it seems impossible to survive the instinct of wanting to always find an end. Impossible, it is impossible, dictates logic. And you are looking for it in the Gaznate of the Eternal Caprivi, Caprice of the monoton, Until the wild lands appear. Then, In Ethosa, The world gets rid of life and death, in circle, as if it could afford to miss his old habit of dividing each other. What will be of destiny without that basic norm? And Namibia looks the other way and hides from man.
The smell of Salitre announces a cemetery
After, When the big dry lake is behind the back, The horizon is twisted in a plain in which the shadows are buried. Because the flat breaks in shapes and the road becomes a sway without burrows or wind. It seems that you advance towards infinity, Because Namibia is an infinite circle. And in your head sea and bone names rumble and the smell of saltpeter announces a cemetery.
But before night falls without warning and you take a detour that leads anywhere. None. Can you imagine a long detour that does not have a purpose? And doubts if there will be entrance and if you will want to go out later. And neither one nor the other happens. Because in the beginning the cicadas sing with useless vehemence until the night silent and in the forced silence things lack inertia. Everything stops without desire while nature distrusts its face in beauty. In that Hotel in Espejo, Damara land, A manless man repeated that everything is measured in dust. “Do you see where the wind raises clouds on earth? There everything ends. Dust says, You just have to look ". And you look and see the sand to heaven and understand that there will be no way to leave.
We headed to the south, to a place that has no owner
Then the morning sun rises, Painting the Universe in Ocher, And you enter a dense and dry path to the heart of the ocean. And there they lie the skeletons of those who did not understand that in Namibia the laws are dictated by the cork fog and its bones spread on the beach before the indifferent gaze of the crows. And everything is still in another line that is divided. One leads to the north, Earth of mud men. There, A few years ago, I understood that the world could really be alien. But we headed to the south, to a place that has no owner and in which the memory does not belong to you.
And to the right the waves beaten the consciences without name. The sea seems to arrive, Hard and enraged, to an shore from which traffickers and sirens fled before so much shout of the tides. So you advance until the desert swallows you. First, and whale Bay, under a storm of white dunes that fills your eyes with sand. Do not pile, Only your soul is squeezed by contemplating them and not being able to cover their reverse. After, Already on the way, Everything so quickly that it takes to discover that you do not go through a desert, You cross one hundred.
We asked a man who held a shadow how much was left for the red dunes
And in a bar we ask a man who held a shadow how much was left for the red dunes and told us that there were “two clouds of dust, Maybe three ". And so we continue its indications and we got there, Where should not come back. They were huge mountains of fine red sand that climbed to the north with changing shapes. Some pointed to the east and made strange runners to later lost in the west. How is such a perfect disorder possible?, We deciphered so much anarchy.
We need to take out a compass that we hid at the beginning of the trip with shame in case they asked us if we were going back. After looking twice what that arrow indicated we understood everything and let the wind move again the horizon. We sat, We looked west where the sun hid after cardamom dunes and began to count the time left for him. The clock indicated precisely that there were still two nights and six clouds of dust.
