Pictures of the Canyon

Have you seen that the best paintings have shadow and light? Sometimes the pictures are all the more beautiful because of the shadows in them.

I think of the hike in this way. How can it be, that something so difficult, something for which you curse yourself while you are doing it, can also be so magical? The only way I could explain it, is through the "shadow" and "light". Just like my life... the light is all the more visible, because of the shadows.

As I looked through the photos, so many memories came back. I want to share some of what it means to hike the 85 km in this canyon.

There are many stories of the canyon. Things that make it fun while you are there, things to ponder as you walk. There is the story of 2 students who tried to complete the hike with a motor bike! (Of course it would be students who tried this stunt!) The old wreckage of the bike is down there, as evidence of the truth of this tale. What amazed me is - they managed to get a long way before the motor bike called it a day.

Then there is a grave! I kid you not. It is the grave of Lieutenant Thilo von Trotha . He was a German officer killed in a skirmish between the Germans and the local Nama people in 1905. He had been sent to make peace with them. While he was negotiating with them, another Lieutenant with 30 cavalry men entered the canyon in pursuit of cattle which had been stolen from them. Believing this to be a trap, the Nama's shot von Trotha. He was buried on the spot.

There are sulphur springs in the canyon too. The others claim to have seen them! I will have to go again ... I think I had my head down and was trying to complete the day's walk, when I passed those by.

One of the most surprising things for me, is that there are wild horses in the canyon too. We were privileged to see them.

Now the group we hiked with, has gone every year for the last 8 years. They have made their own traditions and they pull some crazy stunts along the way. On about day 3 there is a sand dune. They climb it, and then have a race to the bottom to see who gets there first. I sat and watched this in awed amazement. They have spare energy for this?????

They also have a small bottle of whiskey - hidden away. Every year, they go check if it is still there, then hide it away again.

The most famous - is their beach race. There is a place which looks like a beach. The contenders, with full kit of rucksacks on, line up and do a 100 meter sprint. This is so hotly contested, that it is filmed and photographed to determine the winner! Yes - certifiable, the lot of them. What do you think happens to your brains, cooked in the hot Namib sun?

I will continue in the next post, and expand on a day's hike. My time is up for today, and I guess yours too. Next week, we will be back to the reality of Cream Puff, the Prof and NMH. But sometimes - it is nice to take a slight detour.

Foot Woes

So, turns out that hiking the Fish River with just about brand new boots, is a bad idea!!! I had only pulled out my old hiking boots about a month before the hike, and discovered to my huge dismay that they were worn through… done for.


I went off and bought new ones. While walking around the shopping centre, with some “hiking purchases”, I had run into the Prof. What are the chances! He tried to peer around me to see what I had in my packet, and I, like a petulant child, just hid it away more so he could not see!!! This was none of his business. Of course he went to ask the children what I was up to.

Even though I had tried to walk the boots in before the hike– a few weeks is just not enough. My feet blistered so badly that there was not a single toe which did not need bandaging. On day 2 – when my feet where still intact, I bumped a baby toe so badly that the toe had no skin left. There is nothing for it – you have to walk.

My friends from work still joke and say I had such an easy time – I floated through the canyon. In a manner of speaking I did… on pain killers!

After a while, the hiking friends got smart. When I stopped talking, they gave me more pain killers – they knew the pain killers had worn off ! I think I drank more painkillers than I ate food. I popped pain killers the way Jelly Tot Man popped Jelly Tots!

The doctor booked me off work for 2 days when I got back, and for a week I could not put any shoes on my feet. Believe it or not – my feet recovered!


BUT - Walking the Fish River Canyon was one of the best therapies I could have done. Being out there in the wilderness gave space to clear my head. I came back with a soul restored, with new vision and a new way of thinking. My plans of grandeur – had been grand indeed. Best of all – I did it without the Prof. So, another sign of independence.

It might sound funny to say it now, but it was a big achievement. Marriage is like a garment which you wear, it is an identity. Divorce tears that identity away – and takes a piece of your soul with it. I needed to learn to function on my own. I needed a new “garment” . I didn’t much like the “divorce” identity either… so all these processes where part of building a new me – a new identity. I was learning to be an Yvonne apart from the Prof… I was learning whom God had intended I should have become.

Flying on wings of eagles

We are still hiking! There are more stories to tell.

Another friend I made, a wise man by the name of Des – an impressive age of 60 something and walking for the 8th time? (I think) - walked a ways with me.

Yvonne, he said, in many ways, walking the Fish River Canyon, is like the divorce you are going through. In the beginning – you have to walk all the way down to the bottom. You have to hit rock bottom like you do on day 1 of the hike (yes - you jolly well climb down for the whole day long! )

Then you start walking. You have to clamber over obstacles, you have long distances with tremendous heat, and desert conditions to endure, you walk many kilometres alone, you fight pain and fatigue. It is a battle won or lost in your mind. But along the way, there are friends. They cannot carry your burden, but they can walk a few miles with you, there are rest periods, beautiful scenery, and suddenly – one day (day 5 actually), you reach the other end. Then you have climbed out – and you will fly like an eagle. The same with your divorce.

He got me thinking, and I realized how right he was. I began to compare this hard hike to the journey of divorce.

Well, room left in today’s post – Jelly Tot Man. Marius works with me, and this was his first ever hike. A pretty intimidating first attempt I think.
Well, he had listened very carefully to Elisma – a veteran hiker – who works with us too. Elisma has hiked the Fish River about 8 times – yeah, crazy I know. She had told Marius to bring Jelly Tots along. They are a good source of fast energy, she told him.

He took this advice, very much to heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had Jelly Tots packed for every meal!

So, at a crucial time, when he needed energy, he ate a packet of these. This initially helped – sending his blood sugar sky high, then of course his body released insulin – to bring it back under control, sending blood sugar levels plummeting to lower than they were before. The moral of the story is: don't eat jelly tots for energy - they will drop you! Eat them together with something which releases sugar slowly!

The way you eat down there, is crucial. IF you get it wrong, then you can’t walk. Come to think of it - the way you THINK down there - is just as crucial - get that wrong, and you can't finish either!

So, Marius ended up with no energy and unable to continue. We fed him peanuts – slower releasing energy and sat with him until he felt better. At that stage he vowed, if he found any more jelly tots in his bag, he would throw them, all the way out the canyon. He never EVER wanted to see Jelly Tots again.

My kids loved this story and the name Jelly Tot Man was born! They still ask me - how is Jelly Tot Man? Say hi to Jelly Tot Man for us!

So ... How ya doing Jelly Tot Man!

Walking past the ghosts of yesteryear

Colleagues at work, were hiking the Fish River Canyon .

The Fish River Canyon … majestic beyond words, hauntingly desolate, remote and above all – difficult. When you are down there… you are there till the end, no turning back.

I was intrigued.

I had hiked the Fish River Canyon when I was about 19 – at the time, with the Prof. I almost said – with the Prof in tow – but hey – I must be honest and tell you it was the other way around.

I had gone on a few hikes before I met the Prof (who was a student at the time). We did this hike together, and it was not much fun. (Maybe I should have caught a hint right there and then. Hiking tells you a lot about a person. Either not enough – or I was not paying good attention.)

Be that as it may, it was difficult – when I did it that time. I was not very fit, and it took me all day to walk the approx 20 km which you hike per day.

But… here was opportunity knocking at my door. Remember the ridiculous ideas of grandeur? Well, here I could live some of that out. Along with those ideas, where some others too – like the fact that I would like to know that I could do this by myself – without the Prof. That I would have been able to do it then too – without the Prof.

The group got 2 cancellations – and so – Jelly Tot Man and I signed up to go. Jelly Tot man – works with me, and he actually got his name down there in the canyon. Later more about that.

So, in May, we set off on the long trek to Namibia. I knew a grand total of 2 people! Both from work.

I was going to walk this walk, to sort out my head. I was walking it alone, and I was going to do me some serious talking to the Lord. When I was done, I knew I would be done with a lot of baggage too.

God must have been smiling a huge smile, and said – uh uh – I don’t think so (about the walking alone part).

Down there in the canyon – I made a Pivotal Friend. I had had pivotal moments, but there, I met Jonathan.

Jonathan is a missionary, journalist, photographer… and he was in SA with his family, on missionary work from Malaysia. I think the photos I have posted here are Jonathan's.

What an unlikely friendship we struck up.

I walked slowly (nothing changed from when I first walked), and Jonathan walked fast, but was delayed by taking photos. We both love stories, we both love talking, and many times the group joked and said they heard us coming because of all the talking we did.

But that talking, was perhaps just the thing I needed. Jonathan challenged my thinking, and it was from him that I first heard of a counselor by the name of David Riddell.

I can still hear in my mind, Jonathan’s words: the King and Queen of every relationship is trust and negotiation. Trust comes through time, negotiation means that what I think is just as important as what you think. If we don’t agree, we talk it through to a settlement.

Then he would ask me – did you and the Prof “negotiate” to a settlement?
No – I said – I just kept quiet.

Well, David Riddell says – the bible does not say – keep the peace at any price, it says – speak the truth in love.

Then on another day, he would talk to me about emotional health. He would ask- do you know that each person has an “unbearable feeling”? The feeling is something they never want to feel, and for that feeling they will cover up and lie and do whatever it takes … not to feel it. So Yvonne, what is your unbearable feeling?

Down in that canyon, you can only go forwards or backwards, but you cannot run away – not even from yourself. My unbearable feeling – was to be left alone, to have no one… that unbearable feeling had probably kept me chained in that marriage.

And so we walked, and talked, and there were many wisdom's and treasures for me to learn.

Thank you dear friend, for all that you taught me, for the patient counseling, and for helping restore “family” into my little home.

The Reply

So nothing earth shattering happened! He replied with a very short email:

Hallo Yvonne

Sure, send me your contact details, then we can talk.

Hello – NO WAY. I didn’t want this guy having any contact details of mine. I eventually settled for giving him my cell number.

Thought about a name for him. Let’s call him NMH (Not Murderous Hubby), since I am still here, as well as Cream Puff and the Prof!

A few emails passed back a forth. He had a strange, short way of writing. His spelling was atrocious – as Mom was quick to point out. (Spelling is a HUGE issue for the Dutch!). Clearly this writing business was not for him. But he did persist with writing, as opposed to phoning – to my relief.

When my counselor found out that I had email contact with NMH, she almost certified me mad on the spot. You have just got out the fire yourself, she said. Now you will be dragged back into the middle of it.

In the mean time, The Professor found out that I had email contact with NMH. Wow – that caused fireworks too. He found out because NMH told him. They all had some kind of meeting, I was to find out later, where NMH told them what a mistake they were making. At some point during this meeting, NMH lost his temper, and threw a coffee cup at the Prof, smashing the cup against the wall and sending coffee flying in all directions. The Prof has never forgiven NMH for this insult!

Anyway, The Prof phoned me and warned me about this dangerous man too.

So, after giving it some thought, I wrote NMH another email and said: I am sorry, my counselor thinks it a bad idea that you and I have any contact. I thought I could help you, but clearly I am too close to this situation. I am sorry.

The reply came swiftly: no problem, I understand.

The Tipping Point

In the previous post I described 2 events which happened days apart. But a third incident happened which was to be the tipping point.

I took the children to their counseling session on Friday.
Before they even started their session, the counselor pulled me into her rooms and said – you will never guessed who phoned me today?
A friend of mine from the university! This friend, she continued, is extremely worried about HIS friend. His friend’s wife just left him, and moved into a Professor’s house ….. and as I listened to the story – I realized – I know this story from the other side. This is your story!
You should contact him, you could help him so much, you have come such a long way.

Looking at her for a dazed moment – I eventually asked in an almost whisper – what is he like – is he violent?

She just laughed and said – he is just an ordinary person.

The Letter

So, how do you write an email to your soon to be X husband’s, girlfriend’s husband.

CAREFULLY?....

I gave some thought to what I knew about him.
By now he must know of his wife’s affair. He had lost his wife and children, and who knew what would happen to his house. One of the things I had been told about him was that he had never even bought Cream Puff a dishwasher.

In light of a few things – this was as ridiculous a statement for The Prof to have made as any of his silliest remarks. The fact that I did have a dishwasher, was no thanks to the Prof. I once worked overtime and the person I worked the overtime for promised to pay me enough money to buy the dishwasher. This was the deal – so that I could get back the hours I lost with Marinda – who was still a baby at the time. In retrospect, the dishwasher business is even funnier for 2 other reasons: later I was to find out that Cream Puff had a full time housekeeper (i.e. no need for dishwasher), and the Prof has not bought the Cream Puff a dishwasher either.

Other than that, I knew that he was perhaps / perhaps not … a violent man.

That mischievousness in me started a pretend email:

Hi there
I am Yvonne, the Prof’s wife – you know – they guy who stole your wife away? Well, I am happy to tell you –you DON’T have HIV AIDS!!!!

Errr….no – I guess not.

I started another one.
Hey there
You will never guess who I am…. Yep – your wife’s lover’s soon to be X.


Errr… no – not that either.

I could go along the lines – hey there, are you murderous, angry and about to commit a family murder...

SIGH. I am seldom at a loss for words, but I guess I can be forgiven for this fix.

The eventual offering went very carefully along the lines of:

Hallo Cream Puff's Husband (no – of course I knew his name). I had better protect his id too.
I am Yvonne, and by now I am sure you know who I am. I am sorry for your heartache and mine. Perhaps it will help you to write? Writing has been a huge help for me. But if it is too awkward for you, I understand. Choose the path that suits you.

Well, I hesitated one final time over that send button, closed my eyes and clicked send.
THERE – it was done.

Paradigm Shifts

In an effort to catch out the Prof in his lies, I began driving past his house every time I had an opportunity.

On one such occasion, I saw a different car parked in the driveway. I realized this must be Cream Puff’s husband. Well, I thought coldly, according to all the stories I have heard about him – he must be committing a murder in there.

Well, you get on with it, I thought. I guess I will read about it all in the newspapers tomorrow. Needless to say, no such news paper articles followed.

Well, I thought, that must mean he was visiting his little children. This was the beginning of a mind set change for me. I had thought about this man, and wondered what he was going through. I had his details, his name, his photo, and his email address – all from my PI days back in December. Briefly, I considered writing again, as before, but once again I thought better of it.

A few days after this incident, I took the children to their piano lessons. The piano teacher said to me – you know Yvonne, you should write to Cream Puff’s husband. I once had a student who was in the same situation you are now, and she contacted the other party.

I had quite a number of problems with this – foremost being that Cream Puff’s husband was a murderer and violent man. No indications from his photos as to the truth or otherwise, of this. I told the piano teacher and she just laughed. Don’t you know Yvonne, that that same stuff is being said about you?

Hey, I thought – what IS begin said about me?