So my site was announced today, and as it turns out, I will not have running water or a flush toilet, and electricity is questionable. I’ll be in a small village on the Kovango River that separates Angola from Namibia, teaching grades 8-10.
There will be hippos. And I will have my own place, so when y’all visit, I can accommodate you!!
One thing that many people don’t realize is that the Peace Corps is everywhere, and volunteers are engaged in many different aspects of education, and community and economical development. That means that yes, many PC volunteers end up in large towns, urban areas, and now in Nam, business sectors.
But alas, I will not be one of those volunteers. In fact, I will be fulfilling almost every stereotype of the PC volunteer in Africa. At the same time, I feel as if I have already somewhat started in that role; even though my accomodations are beyond exceptional for training, many of us are bucket bathing, we do laundry outside, can’t go out past dark, deal with racism, etc. But experiencing it and feeling so natural and perhaps even more natural than I did in my role in the States continues to remind me of the whole Other ordeal. Now that I no longer can idealize Africa to be what I thought it should be, for Nam to look like what I would expect southern Africa to look like, I am no longer able to pretend that Africa is some far-off land of suffering that needs the salvation of westerners. In fact, I feel quite the opposite.
Africans welcome our skills, our willingness to provide help. They do not consistently show praise of humanitarianism, and they don’t understand volunteerism persay, but every time you greet in Afrikaans or Rukwangali, even when a trainer greets me on the street and we are overheard by a vendor, the appreciation of integrating into the culture is on their faces. It is this kind of relieving feeling that, if even I am to make no concrete and sustainable impact during service, simply by being a white person showing up and taking interest, I have already made an impact. With the effects of apartheid everywhere, literally everywhere, bridging the gaps of racism even for a minute—even for one smile, is little victory enough to feel like I have a reason to be here. Not to mention, the people I have met are awesome, and fatcakes are both delicious and ridiculously easy to make.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Peace and Love
I'd like to throw a shoutout to PC Lesotho. As some have heard, there was what seems to be an attempted robbery in Lesotho, during which an amazing volunteer was fatally shot last weekend. My heart goes out to all of the PC family in southern Africa, and worldwide, as well as to Tom's family. As I understand, Tom was an education volunteer and became very close with his community as a coach, teacher, and leader. At times like these, I fail to comprehend how or why these things happen.
I am still at training in Okahandja. It's been a long week, and I'm currently curled up in bed, trying to decide what to do this weekend. I can hear the TV in the living room playing my Grey's Anatomy DVDs that my host dad put in. He's trying to catch up with Trace so that they can watch together by Sunday. They've both watched over 16 episodes in four days.
The kids started back at school this week. They go 7-1 then come home for the day. Don't interfere with a kid's lunch (two) hour(s). Those are sacred here. Otherwise, we've had extensive language training, today we went to an International Youth Day, where we embarrassed ourselves singing the US Nat'l anthemn off key, and the rest of our sessions have been largely depressing-- concerning rape, domestic violence in Nam, and corporal punishment. So it's been a trying week, but we ended it with pizza and beer at a local lodge that was way too nice for our volunteer stipend. Tomorrow might just top the week with a goat head (smiley) or at least traditional dancing with schoolkids OR even possible rugby practice with my 18yo cousin.
I had more stories but can't think of them now. Nam is pretty sweet. I get my site placement next Friday, and I am STOKED. I have also gotten some allergy medicine, but seeing as there hasn't been rain yet (so we're still in the dry/winter season), the air is paining me. But if that's all I've got to complain about, things are good.
Natulimoneni!!
SEND ME MAIL PLS!
I am still at training in Okahandja. It's been a long week, and I'm currently curled up in bed, trying to decide what to do this weekend. I can hear the TV in the living room playing my Grey's Anatomy DVDs that my host dad put in. He's trying to catch up with Trace so that they can watch together by Sunday. They've both watched over 16 episodes in four days.
The kids started back at school this week. They go 7-1 then come home for the day. Don't interfere with a kid's lunch (two) hour(s). Those are sacred here. Otherwise, we've had extensive language training, today we went to an International Youth Day, where we embarrassed ourselves singing the US Nat'l anthemn off key, and the rest of our sessions have been largely depressing-- concerning rape, domestic violence in Nam, and corporal punishment. So it's been a trying week, but we ended it with pizza and beer at a local lodge that was way too nice for our volunteer stipend. Tomorrow might just top the week with a goat head (smiley) or at least traditional dancing with schoolkids OR even possible rugby practice with my 18yo cousin.
I had more stories but can't think of them now. Nam is pretty sweet. I get my site placement next Friday, and I am STOKED. I have also gotten some allergy medicine, but seeing as there hasn't been rain yet (so we're still in the dry/winter season), the air is paining me. But if that's all I've got to complain about, things are good.
Natulimoneni!!
SEND ME MAIL PLS!
Hunhwa
I got blood on my Rainbows.
I’m a killer. A merciless blood hunter. A sinful, heartless murderer. Don’t read any farther if you become easily queasy.
Today, I killed a chicken.
It started out as a rumor. The Kavango kids were going to get their own chickens… but there are a couple of groups of us, plus we sometimes get mixed up with the Caprivians, and it was all speculation anyway. The chance that I’d get my hands on a chicken myself was unlikely. But rumor quickly turned into reality, and reality turned on its face and became fact. Not only were the Rukwangali students getting some chicken, but I was being called out as one of those chosen to commit the act.
I’m not one for saying no to a challenge.
They came in unassuming cardboard boxes. They didn’t make a fuss, just quietly awaited their fate in the brown shadows. First, a host country national showed us how it was done by grabbing up the first and seemingly effortlessly snubbing it. Then it was my fellow PCT Matt’s turn. Suddenly chicken squashing didn’t seem so effortless.
Apparently, in Kavango, it is considered inhumane to just chop a chicken’s head off and be done with it. No, to Okavangos, one should cut the artery and let it die before disconnecting the head.
Well, Matt got a dull knife. And he was not very efficient. Not only did it take him a while to tame the clucking chicken and position it, but he also made it look nearly impossible to get to the artery. And when he did, he couldn’t cut it. Needless to say, I became a little uneasy about being next.
But, I decided that if I was going to eat the chicken, and if I have spent all these years eating chicken, that I might as well make the effort to see how it gets to my plate. After all, someone has been doing it for me anyway all this time.
So, I stepped up to bat, grabbed the next chicken, steadied my feet on its wings and legs, and cut. And cut. And cut.
More proficient than Matt, I got to the artery fairly quickly, and I was told that I had cut it (as indicated by the great amount of blood spilling onto the sand and my feet). However, in my left hand, all of a sudden, the chicken’s head began to struggle, as if trying to swallow or cluck or maybe just get air. Now my hands were shaking, my stomach was curling, and my mind was shutting down. I snipped the artery immediately and put the bird out of its poor misery before continuing to snap off the rest of the head, place both in boiling water, defeathering, and cooking the animal.
Let’s just say it was an experience.
Other highlights of the day:
Eating a caterpillar. Ok, maybe a low of the day. It was disgusting, and I’m never doing that again. But when in Rome…
Starting the Namibian national anthem with a couple of people and having it turn into a boisterous group sing-a-long with over 60 people.
Being told multiple times that when I move to site, I’ll be living in the “real” Africa. AKA: hot, mosquitoes, hippos, hauling water from the river, etc.
Springboks vs Walabies live from South Africa at a bar with Namibian fans and a former Sharks player as a bartender.
Dancing to Katie Perry with Herero women.
Making fat cakes. Yes, they are as good as they sound.
I’m a killer. A merciless blood hunter. A sinful, heartless murderer. Don’t read any farther if you become easily queasy.
Today, I killed a chicken.
It started out as a rumor. The Kavango kids were going to get their own chickens… but there are a couple of groups of us, plus we sometimes get mixed up with the Caprivians, and it was all speculation anyway. The chance that I’d get my hands on a chicken myself was unlikely. But rumor quickly turned into reality, and reality turned on its face and became fact. Not only were the Rukwangali students getting some chicken, but I was being called out as one of those chosen to commit the act.
I’m not one for saying no to a challenge.
They came in unassuming cardboard boxes. They didn’t make a fuss, just quietly awaited their fate in the brown shadows. First, a host country national showed us how it was done by grabbing up the first and seemingly effortlessly snubbing it. Then it was my fellow PCT Matt’s turn. Suddenly chicken squashing didn’t seem so effortless.
Apparently, in Kavango, it is considered inhumane to just chop a chicken’s head off and be done with it. No, to Okavangos, one should cut the artery and let it die before disconnecting the head.
Well, Matt got a dull knife. And he was not very efficient. Not only did it take him a while to tame the clucking chicken and position it, but he also made it look nearly impossible to get to the artery. And when he did, he couldn’t cut it. Needless to say, I became a little uneasy about being next.
But, I decided that if I was going to eat the chicken, and if I have spent all these years eating chicken, that I might as well make the effort to see how it gets to my plate. After all, someone has been doing it for me anyway all this time.
So, I stepped up to bat, grabbed the next chicken, steadied my feet on its wings and legs, and cut. And cut. And cut.
More proficient than Matt, I got to the artery fairly quickly, and I was told that I had cut it (as indicated by the great amount of blood spilling onto the sand and my feet). However, in my left hand, all of a sudden, the chicken’s head began to struggle, as if trying to swallow or cluck or maybe just get air. Now my hands were shaking, my stomach was curling, and my mind was shutting down. I snipped the artery immediately and put the bird out of its poor misery before continuing to snap off the rest of the head, place both in boiling water, defeathering, and cooking the animal.
Let’s just say it was an experience.
Other highlights of the day:
Eating a caterpillar. Ok, maybe a low of the day. It was disgusting, and I’m never doing that again. But when in Rome…
Starting the Namibian national anthem with a couple of people and having it turn into a boisterous group sing-a-long with over 60 people.
Being told multiple times that when I move to site, I’ll be living in the “real” Africa. AKA: hot, mosquitoes, hippos, hauling water from the river, etc.
Springboks vs Walabies live from South Africa at a bar with Namibian fans and a former Sharks player as a bartender.
Dancing to Katie Perry with Herero women.
Making fat cakes. Yes, they are as good as they sound.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
ngapi
MOROKENI!!
Ngapi nawa?
Rukwangali is difficult, but it’s a ton of fun.
My host family is also exhausting, but fun.
I am living with an 8yo boy and a 10 yo girl and their mother. The father/husband drives the Nam train, and his shift changes. I think he’s working until 8 now, and I’m generally going to bed around then.
I also live with a dog named Taliban. He’s the guard dog. And he barks from the time he is let off the leash at around 7 p.m. until he is put back on, at around 6 a.m. As my host family has warned, his name says it all. Chico is our pet dog. Apparently it’s fairly rare to have a pet dog here, but almost everyone has a guard.
And yes, I go to bed at 8 p.m. The sun goes down at like 5, and after a few solid games of Uno with the kids, a meal that I help prepare or clean up after, and an hour of Shades of Sin (Brazilian soap opera that the country is addicted to), I can barely keep my eyes open. I try and stay up to practice language, but I’m not sure that anything sticks. There are a few occasional clicks in the language I’m learning, so don’t worry—I am getting the African experience, even with a TV in my house, my own bedroom that locks, hot water showers, and a washing machine.
Some in our group are taking bucket baths—heating their water on the stove and carrying it to the bathroom to bathe. But they say it aint so bad, and I believe that. There’s a good chance that many of these amenities will not be there when I move to site, so I’m soakin it up while I’m here. Hell, I’m eating Corn flakes with coffee and yogurt for breakfast, and today I had a Gatorade at lunch. Not that it’s all rainbow and fuzzies, but I really really like it here.
Well, I took my Mefloquine today, so I’m off to do some awesome dreaming. Mbwaa!
tulululu
Today was a big day. Not only did we get our language assignment, but we also met the families with whom we’ll be living for the next six weeks.
Language: I will be learning Rukwungandi, a local African dialect, and I’ll be in the northern area of the country, where 60% of Nam’s population lives in something like 15% of the land. The north boasts a much wetter and hotter climate than the south, and the language varies greatly by area.
Host family: I adore my host parents. The father is a train driver, and the mother stays at home with her 8- and 10- year old son and daughter. They live in a neighborhood near my training center and speak Afrikaans. I was kind of hoping to learn Afrikaans just because of its widespread use and similarity to other European languages, so I’m excited about being exposed to it during homestay. Regardless, the parents speak English really well, and I imagine the kids speak it even better. There will also be water and electricity and I only share my bathroom with the children. Sidenote: they have two dogs—one is a small pet dog named Chico and the other is a large guard dog named…. Wait for it… Taliban. I couldn’t make it up.
Well I’m exhausted (and this episode of Grey’s is ending), so I’m out. Goodnight from NAMIBIA, land of the brave!!!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Arrival/training
Hello from Nam!!
Let me just say, perhaps prematurely, that I love it here.
We flew into Windhoek on Wednesday afternoon, and within an hour we saw wild giraffes, baboons, and springbok. It was incredible.
There are 45 of us in my training group, including 9 who will be the first class to swear in for the business sector for the first time in this country. Their project is mostly within the education system—working with econ and business teachers to develop new curricula that will provide for sustainable improvement. Because roughly 50% of Nam’s population is unemployed, the government is placing a huge emphasis on small business development, so this group’s secondary projects will most likely deal with actual companies. Pretty cool stuff.
Standards in education have greatly improved since independence in 1990, but there is still a lot to be accomplished to get the country’s education standards and teacher qualification up, so the rest of the group is in the education sector (IT, math, science, and English).
My groupmates are from all over the U.S.—including Alaska, Oregon, California, Montana, Wyoming, and a good handful from Texas. Everyone is really great, and we’re all getting along well. It’s been surprising to see our different preferences in site placement, secondary projects, etc.
I am still working on jet lag and adjusting to the time, weather, etc. This winter weather is INCREDIBLE. The days get up into the 80s, and while it’s chilly at night, it’s not unbearable. I seem to be the only one in the group who insists on wearing four layers every morning and night, but what can I say? 50 degrees is cold! I think some of the snowbirds will have a rough time adapting to the summertime here, but I say bring it on!! The climate is extraordinarily dry, so I don’t begin to break a sweat hiking in 85F.
One cultural lesson for today—Namibians are very serious about greetings. If you do not say “Hello! How are you?” to just about anybody on the street, they will remember, and they will be offended if you run across them in the future. However, displays of affection are not culturally accepted. It’s great to say hello and shake hands, but very few people hug in public, and if a male ever hugs a female, it is assumed that he wants something in return. It’s kind of a bizarre adjustment. It’s not that the Nam people are cold, but they are much quieter and it’s a culture entirely based on respect (the population is 99% Christian).
Some highlights:
• Watching the vibrant red of an African sunset over the bush.
• Wild giraffes on the side of the road.
• Malaria medicine dreams.
• Herero festival.
• South Africa vs. New Zealand in Tri-Nations rugby, live, at a local bar over a cold Windhoek draught beer (and seeing guys wearing springbok jerseys in town during the match).
• Learning that some of us will be learning the local click language.
• Talking to/ playing with Nam kids in town.
• Tea time, twice daily.
• Hot showers, a warm bed, and potable water.
Basically, I hit the Peace Corps jackpot. I’m very excited for the next two years— meeting my learners, moving into a settled arrangement, traveling around southern Africa, etc. I hope everyone is doing well, and don’t forget—SEND MAIL!! I’ve taken to writing letters, so be looking out, or give me your address if I don’t already have it!!
Julie Gerdes, PCT
U.S. Peace Corps
P.O. Box 6862
Windhoek, Namibia
Let me just say, perhaps prematurely, that I love it here.
We flew into Windhoek on Wednesday afternoon, and within an hour we saw wild giraffes, baboons, and springbok. It was incredible.
There are 45 of us in my training group, including 9 who will be the first class to swear in for the business sector for the first time in this country. Their project is mostly within the education system—working with econ and business teachers to develop new curricula that will provide for sustainable improvement. Because roughly 50% of Nam’s population is unemployed, the government is placing a huge emphasis on small business development, so this group’s secondary projects will most likely deal with actual companies. Pretty cool stuff.
Standards in education have greatly improved since independence in 1990, but there is still a lot to be accomplished to get the country’s education standards and teacher qualification up, so the rest of the group is in the education sector (IT, math, science, and English).
My groupmates are from all over the U.S.—including Alaska, Oregon, California, Montana, Wyoming, and a good handful from Texas. Everyone is really great, and we’re all getting along well. It’s been surprising to see our different preferences in site placement, secondary projects, etc.
I am still working on jet lag and adjusting to the time, weather, etc. This winter weather is INCREDIBLE. The days get up into the 80s, and while it’s chilly at night, it’s not unbearable. I seem to be the only one in the group who insists on wearing four layers every morning and night, but what can I say? 50 degrees is cold! I think some of the snowbirds will have a rough time adapting to the summertime here, but I say bring it on!! The climate is extraordinarily dry, so I don’t begin to break a sweat hiking in 85F.
One cultural lesson for today—Namibians are very serious about greetings. If you do not say “Hello! How are you?” to just about anybody on the street, they will remember, and they will be offended if you run across them in the future. However, displays of affection are not culturally accepted. It’s great to say hello and shake hands, but very few people hug in public, and if a male ever hugs a female, it is assumed that he wants something in return. It’s kind of a bizarre adjustment. It’s not that the Nam people are cold, but they are much quieter and it’s a culture entirely based on respect (the population is 99% Christian).
Some highlights:
• Watching the vibrant red of an African sunset over the bush.
• Wild giraffes on the side of the road.
• Malaria medicine dreams.
• Herero festival.
• South Africa vs. New Zealand in Tri-Nations rugby, live, at a local bar over a cold Windhoek draught beer (and seeing guys wearing springbok jerseys in town during the match).
• Learning that some of us will be learning the local click language.
• Talking to/ playing with Nam kids in town.
• Tea time, twice daily.
• Hot showers, a warm bed, and potable water.
Basically, I hit the Peace Corps jackpot. I’m very excited for the next two years— meeting my learners, moving into a settled arrangement, traveling around southern Africa, etc. I hope everyone is doing well, and don’t forget—SEND MAIL!! I’ve taken to writing letters, so be looking out, or give me your address if I don’t already have it!!
Julie Gerdes, PCT
U.S. Peace Corps
P.O. Box 6862
Windhoek, Namibia
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A lil game
We're going to play a little game for my friends and fam. It's called "What I Know."
What I know:
Peace Corps
PO Box 6862
Ausspannplatz,
Windhoek, Namibia
If you have a silly postal office worker, it might help to write "Africa" at the end.
What I don't know:
What I know:
- I will have a cell phone.
- I will have Internet access.
- My skype name is julie.gerdes.
- My address from August-October 15 is
Peace Corps
PO Box 6862
Ausspannplatz,
Windhoek, Namibia
If you have a silly postal office worker, it might help to write "Africa" at the end.
- I will be teaching English for 70% of my work time.
- I will work in a primary or secondary school.
- I will be doing some kind of HIV/AIDS awareness and education.
- I will have shelter.
- There are 13 provinces in Namibia.
- For the first 3 months, I will be staying with a host family and working with other PCVs.
What I don't know:
- What my cell phone number is.
- How often I will have Internet access.
- How often I'll be on skype.
- What my address will be after October.
- Where I'll be living after October.
- What I will do for the other 30%.
- What grade(s) I will teach, how many students I'll have, or what specific subjects I will teach (lit, grammar and vocab, ESL, etc.)
- What kind of HIV/AIDS education program I will be running or working with.
- What kind of shelter I will have.
- Which province I will live in (desert? grassland? oceanside or landlocked? Angola or SA border?)
- How many Volunteers will be in my town (prob just me), where the next-closest PCV will be, who I will live with after the first 3 months.
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