Walking With The San People
It’s a very warm day in the Kalahari, Namibia. The heat ripples in the distance over the semiarid landscape, while the cicadas chirp their penetrating song. Noon has arrived, as all life moves away from the sun, resting in the shade.
Underneath an Acacia tree sits a bushman, dozing as midday goes by. A rustling sound of a falling seed pod wakes him. On the other side of his little village, some of his clan people are getting ready to go hunting. His people, known as the San, are the oldest inhabitants of Southern Africa, living in this part of the world as nomadic hunters and gatherers for at least 20.000 years.
The women are sitting in front of a grass-made hut, fabricating crafts out of nature’s resources, which include leather products, hunting equipment and jewellery out of ostrich eggshells. Chatting with each other, they are conversing in a language filled with clicking sounds. The San people are small in size and generally use leather-made clothing from the game they killed. Women would carry their babies on their backs until they are old enough to walk.
After fetching his lightly built bow and arrow from his hut, he joins the hunting group, now ready to head out into the sandy bush. Silently, they walk in a line always against the wind to hide their scent. One of the hunters checks the wind direction by trickling sand. Time passes by as they read and track the barely visible footprints of various animals in the sand. Unlike modern civilisations they are never in a hurry to succeed, taking as much time as the sun will give them light.
Finally, they find a fresh footprint of a springbok antelope. With their remarkable spoor reading skill, they can tell the health, gender, age and freshness of each print. Cautiously, they whisper to each other to discuss the features of their prey, accompanied by the burning sun.
While tracking, one of the bushmen finds a Milk Root, also known as Bi! bulb. These root plants harbour water and are one of the many creative ways the San have adopted to stop their thirst. He scrapes the bulb into a pulpy consistency. To separate the liquid from the rest, the pulp is crushed into their palms and then squeezed. While doing so, they hold their thumbs toward their mouths above their heads to help the water trickle down their mouth. Techniques like these form part of their vast knowledge of how to survive in such a harsh and dry environment.
Scattered drought-resistant shrubs and trees help them camouflage as they stealthily cross the dry-grass-covered landscape. Unexpectedly, a grass-nibbling springbok appears behind a thorny bush. It hasn’t noticed the trackers. Slowly, one of the skilful hunters gets closer to secure a better shooting position. Blending in behind a branch he leans forward, positioning his bow and arrow, aiming for a perfect shot. The antelope takes another step. Suddenly, a soft swoosh and the prey is hit! Surprised by the shot it jumps and sprints away to escape the danger. Poisoned by the venom applied to the arrow, sooner or later it will come to fall. Excited by the good shot, the hunters follow the track.
As the sun travels towards the horizon, they finally find their prey. Joyful, they start chattering about their kill, inspecting its features. They lift the carcass and head back to the village to celebrate a successful day. For the San people hunting is more than just about survival, it’s part of their culture, a tradition and a sport that awards them a status and a name. Steadily they walk through the sandy landscape using nature as their map. Dusk has arrived as the village campfire appears in the distance.
Cheerfully, they are greeted by the villagers congratulating the hunters on their prey. Meat is always shared with every clan member and everyone will help with the meal preparation. There is use for everything and nothing goes to waste, even the bones serve as tools such as the tip of the arrow.
Far away a jackal calls, as they start grilling the meat on the fire, which is the heart of the village, a communal centre deeply valued in the San culture. Around it, they often perform a dance, a prayer-like ritual that addresses the spirits of the ancestors and the gods. The smell of grilled meat still lingers in the air, as the women and children start singing and clapping their hands to the rhythm. Step by step, the men dance around the fire, wearing anklets made out of cocoons that rattle to the rhythmic song. Some of the dancers would enter a trance-like state, as the music becomes more frantic. As the night progresses, fatigue would replace the music. One by one falling asleep next to the fire, tucked in by the night sky.
Like many groups living far from the mainstream, the San people still live an isolated life, but modern times have started to close up on them. Many have moved to cities in hope of achieving a better life and their children have started to become educated. More and more they are pushed off their land to make space for industry-related development. Is there hope that the world would stop looking away so that they could have a voice?
