Free A Man from Another Land: How Finding My Roots Changed My Life by Isaiah Washington Page B

dressing, freaky dancing, and mate swapping. I wasn’t impressed. I thought that the gay clubs in New York did this
     much better. When we arrived there the door attendant gave us a number to place on our chest. If a stranger “fancied” you
     they could call out your number. “No way!” I thought to myself. I wondered, “What is wrong with these people? There is an
     AIDS epidemic here!”
    As we enjoyed the music and our drinks, my hosts told me the story of Gugu Dlamini, an AIDS activist who was beaten to death
     by her neighbors after revealing her HIV-positive status on Zulu television in 1998. Gugu Dlamini tried desperately to educate
     her people about their sexual behavior. (Many South African men refused to practice safe sex.) She was murdered for her efforts.
     Township denial, cultural resistance, fears, and ignorance had allowed the AIDS virus to reach an incredible high point in
     the country, amassing huge emotional and psychological turmoil that wasn’t being addressed within the community. Those discovered
     to have contracted HIV were banished from their homes, ostracized, beaten, or even killed. I made a mental note to research
     Dlamini’s name.
    Back at the hotel, I couldn’t sleep. I was keyed up from the long trip and anticipation of taking still another leg of the
     journey to Namibia in just a few hours. I repacked my bags for the flight to Epupa Falls the next morning. After another night
     of little sleep, I was up before the sun, at 4:00 a.m.
    It was quiet and heavenly still.
    Nothing was moving but the wind, or should I say its sibling, the breeze. Sunrise was still a few minutes away. We loaded
     up the truck that would take us to the airport and I realized that I’d left my Canon ELPH point-and-shoot in the rear seat
     of our driver’s truck the night before. “Lucky,” the driver said when we discovered it still there and intact.
    It was a short drive to Eros Airport. Craig Matthews and his assistant, Janet, arrived in their car, filled to capacity with
     provisions for the camp we would set up in Epupa Falls. Craig was a thin, muscular Englishman, who had worked photojournaling
     the Himba tribe for many years. He was fluent in the Himba language and served as liaison and consultant for our film. Since
     the tribe had no formal knowledge of television or radio equipment, Craig and Janet planned to stay in Epupa Falls to inform
     the tribe on the technical aspects of filmmaking.
    We unloaded Craig’s car only to discover that most of the food he and Janet brought for the camp, his television camera, a
     few pairs of Elaine’s shoes, and a few other assorted articles would have to be left behind. An unexpected traveler, the wife
     of one of our pilots, had shown up. Since all of the seats had been assigned we had to make adjustments.
    Amanda was our pilot for the first three-hour flight. She was very easygoing, confident, and reassuring to those in our group
     who were nervous about flying. As our single-prop Centurion II cranked up and taxied, wobbling down the runway, I had the
     sensation that I was outside of my body. My stomach tightened. I was nervous, I was excited, and I was in Africa! Elaine revealed
     to me how afraid she was of small planes. I don’t think I was much of a comfort to her; most of my experience was with much
     bigger planes, the United States Air Force T-38 and the F-4 Phantom. My anxiety was more about not knowing exactly what to
     feel.
    I took some great photographs of Cecil, the pilot of the other plane, carrying Amy and Janet, as he flew alongside the plane
     that carried Craig, Elaine, and me. I also got my first aerial view of the Himba dwellings. From the plane the villages or
omganda
(homesteads) looked like ant beds. The dung-and-tree-branch huts or
ondjuwo
(houses) were inside a circled fence made from the branches of the mopane tree, a necessary staple and building resource
     for the Himba people in Kaokoland.
    Amanda pointed out a mountain