Mariental doesn't see many tourists, except those zipping by in safari rigs heading back to the capital, Windhoek.

After hitching a ride north from Keetmanshoop with two very relaxed and festive (and generous) Spaniards, John and I hauled out at Mariental for 3 days. "Why?" is what most people we saw there wanted to know.

"We came for a visit with Alexander."
"Because"...a friend of mine who recently came to Namibia to teach English had two students who later came to Mariental High School. My friend taught them in grade 6 two years ago in their home town in the hinterlands, many miles from Mariental. We came for a visit with Alexander, 14, and Wilfred, 12.

After a bit of wandering and asking around we found MHS and, eventually, the dorm where the boys live. We met them and about 20 of their classmates, all of whom were bright-eyed with curiosity about America and why we chose to come to Namibia and what we thought of their country.

"He wants to come to America and be a farmer."
They told us all about where they were from and which language they speak...usually two or more of the country's five or so native languages. One of the more charismatic boys' names, in his language, meant "What will we do with him?" More than anything, What Will We Do With Him wants to come to America and be a farmer.

Alexander wants to study science and also come to America. They seemed to all want a degree and an American address. But lack of money and scholarships makes the chances of either of these slim. Though if will and cleverness count for anything, some of them may find a way

"I got nothin' that's worth a thing?"
I'm reminded of a song by one of my favorite singer-songwriters about a trip he took to Mexico and the many beggars (and one thief) he came across there. The line goes, "Heaven help 'em but don't they know that I got nothin' that's worth a thing?" The way I think he means it, I agree with him, but for a moment of every day here I'm so thankful for this U.S. Passport I keep hidden in a pouch under my shirt. Sometimes it feels like a winning lottery ticket.

By the morning we left Mariental, it seemed like we knew half the town: same "good morning" grin by the same security guard at the same breakfast diner where the owner would ask if it got cold in our tent the night before. One more week and I might have had a chance at being mayor.

"John's Mariental Thoughts."
If karma really is a zero-sum game, Matt and I may well end up naked on the streets soon. We've been the recipients of some serious kindness in the last few days.

After listening to an insane old man's screaming and a tourist's malaria-like coughing for our bus ride back to Keetmanshoop from Luderitz, we arrived and found the municipal campground. By the way, we've bought a cheap tent and plan to camp whenever we can to save money. It also gives a nice sense of security that you have a place to sleep in your pack. No huge worry if all the hotels are full.

"This was a first for both of us."
So about that karma. We got up the next morning to head north to Mariental, a tiny town halfway to the capital of Windhoek. There were supposedly minibus taxis that left for Mariental when they fill, but we decided to hitch. With the exception of my Appalachian Trail days, this was a first for both of us.

We stood on the road for about an hour without much luck. There's just so little traffic in Namibia. This is a major road, but cars probably pass on an average of once every minute.

"... and help us cram our stuff into the car."
We then decided to walk to the junction where a side road joins the main road. At a roadside stall selling tourist trinkets, we found Oos and Maria doing some shopping. Two Spaniards... one living in Windhoek and the other visiting. They were driving a tiny VW Golf, but were more than happy to clear out the back seat and help us cram our stuff into the car.

Matt and I managed some Spanish with them and they even told us they were stopping on their way at the Quivertree Forest. It's a unique group of dozens of trees that generally only grow by themselves. Actually they're not technically trees, but that's another story.

"It added to the fiesta atmosphere."
It was like a little party there in the VW Golf. Maria put in a CD of Mana, a Mexican band I'd come to like while traveling in Latin America. She would enthusiastically seat-dance while Oos flashed his headlights and waved at most cars that passed. The waving isn't so unusual here, but it added to the fiesta atmosphere.

After a couple of hours they drove us into Mariental and back to the outskirts when we realized we'd passed where we wanted to go. They said bye and refused our offer of 50 Namibian dollars for the ride. Great people.

"Two outgoing, bright local kids..."
They'd driven us back to the outskirts because we thought there was a gas station there where you could camp for free. Not so, we were told. But a nice lady at another gas station we walked to enlisted the help of Khala and Petra... two outgoing, bright local kids in their late teens. They walked us back across town to the River Chalets, where everyone had heard they allowed camping.

"Oh Dear. We're full," the woman there told us. And she really was troubled by not being able to offer us a place to camp. After taking quite some time telling us where in town we may be able to camp, she decided that just wouldn't do. She observed that it was getting dark and we'd need to pitch our tent soon.

"How gracious and trusting."
She instructed us to follow her to the back of her own house, where we would camp by her swimming pool. She would then leave the back door unlocked and we could use her toddler's bathroom in the house. I would later mistake her daughter's room for the bathroom and find myself face to face with this little girl walking the other way. How gracious and trusting.

And just as things couldn't get more surreal... as we're getting ready for bed we hear a familiar bass line approaching. It's a car stereo playing something we thought we recognized. In the middle of the Namibian desert, we clearly made out a tune by Johnny Cash.

Matt's gonna plug in a story here about our search for a friend of a friend. We tracked down an old student of a friend of his, who'd now in high school in Mariental. Great story.