Answers to Poverty and Related Issues

As chaotic and dissappointing as this time of year can be for a Namibian teacher, it can be equally entertaining and rewarding. Exam time is upon us, and our learners are experiencing their first real test as learners in their grade (okay, that’s not true because many are repeating). Anyway, my learners are always cracking me up, and exam time just gives them the opportunity to put down their hilarity on paper.

There are days that I lecture my kids, days that I yell at them, days I walk out on them for various reasons: there are 45 of them and I can’t get 20 of them to stop talking, not one did their homework, they are throwing objects across the room and beating each other up in class, my water is out again and I haven’t bathed or eaten in 24 hours, or usually a combination of these factors.

But even on those bad days, I can come always count on one or two learners changing my mind as I am about to call up Peace Corps and drop out because “these learners, tsk, they are just not serious. They are bewitched.”

One such bad day, with no water, a terrible stomach ache, and a virus on my hard drive that contained the exam I spent 3 days writing, I skipped school. It was my first time playing hookie as a teacher, but I felt at least 75% justified.

Anyway, that afternoon I walked into the 8A classroom for afternoon study to collect their work, and they had written “grammar quiz” on the board—an exercise I start them with every class. Underneath, they had written out an entire message in English, using Rukwangali pronunciation. My favourite was the signature—baibi tjokolat (baby chocolate, the name of a popular Afrikaans song that my learner Magdelena has adopted as her nickname).

My days are filled with youthful humour. My kids amaze me daily. Amidst the crap they deal with, they continue to find ways to entertain themselves, each other, and myself. Even at the ages of 16-25, they have this positive innocence that can only come from the total abandonment of stress and the adaptation to miserable conditions.

I share with you today some of that humour. On the exam, I included a poem by a South African poet about a grade school couple. At 18, the boy, Bennie, goes off to war, only to come home, find that his beloved Anna has taken a new boyfriend, and then much to the dismay of his mother, Ben promptly kills himself.

I gave the kids two options as writing prompts:

1.    Pretend you are Ben Alberts. You have just left your hometown to join the army and fight in a war. Write a letter to Anna explaining what you have seen and telling her why she is important to you.

2.    Pretend you are Anna. Ben has just left for war in another country and you have a new boyfriend. Write a letter to Ben explaining what happened and apologising for hurting him.

My favourites were generally when the boys wrote the second and vice-versa. Here are some excerpts:

Don’t feel bad my love. Just be free as I am because I am you wife you love.

But I want to tell you what I did wrong to you you know that it can hut you but don’t be sad or unhappy just be free....

Know I’m having a new boyfriend. But don’t feel bad. It doesn’t mean that I hate you or I break your hurt or our love is broke. No our love is steel there. You can look for a new women to merry.

Great all you friend nd you commander. be cool!!

Your girlfriend,

Anna

Dear My husbant,

I’m just tell you about what happen to me.

Nothing you can think about me again. I got another husband he’s rich not like you. You don’t have a car iven cattles you are not a men which I can think about it. I got a new one not like you which is giving money every day. You are expired I can’t think about you again.

The one which I has now is having every that you want bread, coffee, hungry Lion or bray pack every think that you want he can give you the way you want. Now he told me that hes going to buy for me a new WMB. And he going to buy a big house for us were we are going to sleep. Don’t think about me again think were are you going to get another women for you to get merieadge. If you going to come were I am you are going to see fire.

You friend

John K.


*I’m pretty sure WMB=BMW, although it could be confused with the local supermarket, whose initials are WMB...

 When the war starts people were not like the same they were some are shooting themselves People are sufuring but me I escape from the war with a helicopter

To kill a person is difficult. And to do this work you must be a real man who got good backbones... You took my one part heart and me also I got you pieces of broken hearts. And I love you 100% more than I love my car... I wish one day you will be my eva and I will be your Adam.

And me don’t play with me again I am talling you a truth me I get a new boyfriend and now I know want to talk with you even you are in the road or where ever you are wolking don’t greet me or touch me.

Dear: Ben Alberts

Hello! How are you? I want to tell you about our relationship is over now.

I want you to be my friend but is not my boyfriend because I am already get a new boyfriend because I am care about you you’we west my time to care about you you go long time ago you think I can wat you because you are my boyfriend you are not the only one boy in this world they lot of boys in this villages are think you’we already died on the war but if you are not died I cannot wat you because my parent told me that you can merry someone boy because you don’t think Ben is on earth you are already died because many people was died on war is that message that I want to told you to can know that are having another boy so that cannot think more thing about me don’t become sad like you’we here like someone died on your family bye see you.

Your lovely

Claudia

Ben me, I have a boyfriend here in our village not you I don’t loved you because you did not like this boy you have a bad behaviour.

Dear Ben Alberts.

hope and I with u are oky back to me am fine like water move in the river.

I want to tell you about why I can hurt you. I hurt you Because a get a new boy special boy who I can shos in my life not like u. The handsome boy who can I strust who can spoting me something that I want.

They buy for me clother, sock, and so on. not like you because you you do not give me money to buy my thing that I want. poor boy u don not give me an money. I hate that my friend.

Me a hate that boy who did not give money to they girlfriend. Some thing that make me to hate u.

You are so important to me because every day you use to make others laugh and you are my girl which I got rom god, and if you could be water I wold drink you every tim and wash my body.

Dear Ben Alberts,

How are you? I want to tell you that I have a new boyfriend because you live [leave] me alone. I want to tell you that I have a new boyfriend. you you old now I hate you because you did not come ealy when you will die for war when I hate this new boyfriend where can I get a boyfriend again feel bad in your heart and me also is the way a feel because you live me alone and so for war now you know I get a new boyfriend. When you come here when you are not die war you will find out another girlfriend, now you know you will lose a kiss for me and a huge [hug] you will huge another girl is not me again. Forget a kiss and a huge to me you will be alone now me I got a new lovely boy is not you again go away to another girls.

I will not live you for nothing because you are the only one to I die! I share all my life with you str yhr onlu one I build my home a lot of love I share from you. Sugar are sweet

me I love you like the way  love myself

Ben I want to tell you bout my love this time me and you forget me because me I have another boy don’t like you me I have a beautiful boy don’t you. you are stupid boy. I have a good and arich this time don’t call me her was my lover not because you are priceding you in my life I don’t like you. every time we can try to call me. Me I am laugh you. but I know her was my first boy but I wanted to see you because you are having 3 girls plass me you are having 4 girl freand... I don’t want a stupid gus you are understand Ben.

Anna you are my truster where ever I go I never forgot you I trust you like the way I trust myself and my good shirt and my God....

Anna I trust you the way dog trust a bonth or meat.

It’s good to have a woman sometime she helps you. They can make you happy everythings to enjoy your lie.

The real important is you can formed anothers person/have a baby you don’t have any feelings that force you to rape some other girls. because you Are already have A girl friend or Love. It’s help you particular job It can cook for you She is Carry your babies It can help for different types of work you cannot suffer Again.

some people in this village they are lazzy bone. no one who can pay people who build the town. every person if they do some work they must pay that is some of disadvantage of Rupara cannot become a town.

On a more serious note, these tests and essays were very revealing of some of the serious social issues this region faces. Learners referenced sugar daddies—if she is seeing their friends are having cellphones she also go to that man who is having a cellphone and sleep with him. That is why the learners are pregnant. Some of the stigmas in their letters regarding teen pregnancy were dissappointing but unfortunately very real. Some of the girls were just dropping their best friends and writing to tell them how mad they were that their friend had a baby and she could therefore no longer remain friends.

More to come...

6 months down, 22 to go...

So I’ve officially been in Namibia for six months. It’s a little unreal, but the idea of having 22 months to go brings me back down to earth.

I guess I could say that the last month has felt like a gradual turning point, if that wasn’t an oxymoron. I am so accustomed to waiting for hikes, cancelled events, and feeling like it’s a success if 60% of my body gets wet during a bucket bath that I have reached the point of no return and consequently no shame. I cannot imagine hopping a plane tomorrow and feeling normal back in the States (well as normal as I get… I did pick up a live crab and try to eat it once).

These days, I watch the same reruns of the few sitcoms that will fit on my hard drive so many times that the concept new episodes of these and (!) newer shows blows my mind, not to mention catching the occasional BBC at my neighbor’s wherein they show off the latest gadgets in the first world market (3D cameras are out?? Say wha?!) Recently, I found myself agreeing with my colleague how incredulous it was that the Animal Kingdom people in Orlando feed monkeys apples when there are starving kids in Africa and feeling very convicted about it when just one year ago I was consistently throwing out leftovers from cooking for one. Maybe some of the newfound sentiment comes from the fact that I am, more or less, one of those starving children. By sending just $20 a month and you’ll pay for my groceries!! (No, really, it would definitely last over two weeks, and if it would enhance your experience, I can send back a picture of me smiling in my ratty clothes and a letter written in crappy crayon.)

Back to my feeling okay here… Although I’m still phased by things like finding a termite mound growing next to my bed and a huge lizard in my bathroom, I have managed to ease into a comfortable pace at school. I actually look forward to some of my classes, and while I’m still figuring out just how far back I need to go for the younger kids, I spend way less time planning, and I can feel them starting to accept my silly ways (group work, creativity, huh?!) and my silly accent. Not to mention, they’ve figured out that I won’t beat them with sticks, so they are far from being afraid of me anymore, which has resulted in the occasional mocking of my accent and begging for food. Of course, I retaliate by returning the jokes and asking them to give me bread and coins. Today, they asked me to sing for them, insisting that I have a wonderful voice. These kids do have a lot to learn. I gave them a little Eminem and Beyonce by request.

I’m still worrying a little over my secondary projects, but it seems like a ball is starting to form that I can get rolling. Last week, I attended a workshop in Rundu on teaching Basic Information Science (BIS). To recap what I learned: All rural schools are struggling for resources, the government has given all schools a certain number of library books (allegedly), but most have been stolen, lost, or damaged, and having a bunch of books shipped here from the States will only result in a storeroom filled with boxes that kids here would never understand. I also learned what the Dewey Decimal System is.

All that aside, I returned to school to discover that my own classroom holds what is left of our library materials. I spent last weekend, with some help from a few wonderful learners, cleaning out and reorganizing the cabinets of materials in my classroom to create a makeshift library then held a meeting with my principal and HOD about the prospect of moving our “library” into the computer lab to make a resource center, and they were very supportive. So it seems that I have a mini-project at hand! Because I’m teaching BIS, I think I will turn this into a research project for my learners. I’ll let you know what plans they come up with for developing a school media/resource center and what kinds of materials we may ask to be donated. Internet, at this time, is a big stretch due to the cost and the fact that learners need to become more familiar with basic word processing before shoveling out the cash to connect the school but it may be in our future, which is exciting. Sidenote: it’s shocking what these kids can do on facebook despite the fact that they can’t master the double-click. I find it to be a metaphor for the entire learning process here. Ask for elaboration.

I think one of the most enlightening experiences I’ve had recently in relation to these projects and classes is the raw thirst for knowledge that the great majority of my learners have. They struggle with so many basic concepts and critical thinking tasks but you hand one kid a book—on any subject, no matter how basic or advanced—and that child will pour over it. Last week, I gave my learners an assignment for BIS to research the history of different information sources, and today I hauled encyclopedias to my classes to get them started. Their eyes lit up as I entered the room with books, and as soon as I began handing them out, their attentions were gone. I had a hard time getting them to write down bibliography information because they were so fascinated by the words and images that began with their respective projects’ letters. It’s incredible how over 50 learners are transformed by the chance to crowd together and share 9 encyclopedias from 1995. They were distraught when the bell rang and I had to take the books to my next class. Furthermore, as soon as I cleaned out the cabinets that have old library books, kids from all grades started coming up and asking me to check out books. One tenth grader requested a book on electrical engineering to take for light reading. These kids continue to inspire me daily.

In terms of daily life, I literally spend all of my time at school. My time is spent:

·      Planning lessons that I will inevitably not finish

·      Working on grant proposals for community projects and diversity tour

·      Grading 200 exercise books weekly

·      Decorating the staffroom and my classroom with handmade flipchart posters

·      Goofing around with my kids in afternoon study— today we practiced Portuguese and Rukwangali in one classroom, discussed Chris Brown another, and argued over whether one of my ninth graders was related to Obama in another

·      Watching BBC and the History Channel, the two channels we receive at school on the computer lab TV

·      Attending 3-4 hour long meetings about how inhumane it is  to lock kids in a classroom for being late to school or ignore a teen’s pregnancy

Also, it’s hot. It hasn’t really rained all week, and every day feels hotter than the last. I’ve got a couple of staff members commenting, “it’s hotter than one thousand suns,” and as a result, the classrooms are starting to smell unpleasant. Also, my roommates never wear clothes anymore.

One last note. Last week was Valentine’s Day, and, as with every holiday I’ve experienced here, I was pretty homesick. The staff showed up in red and pink and I made a giant card and fudge but that was the extent of the hoopla, and I missed my steadfast valentines, Aspen and Catherine. As a listening activity, I read a history of the holiday in my classes and asked a series of comprehension questions. For homework, I assigned a written paragraph in simple present tense on how people celebrate the holiday. Well, I collected their work on 15 Feb and was overwhelmed by the cards and notes wishing me a happy day drawn in or pasted to their workbooks.

It seems that things are looking up, even if after four weeks of working on it, not one of my 150 kids can write a sentence in the simple present tense. 

Back to life, back to reality

Well, I’ve managed to make it through the holiday season and back up north. Much has happened in the last couple of weeks, very little of which has been productive, so it’s both a relief and a let-down that the festivities are over.

I spent Christmas Eve in a tent on the beach in Swakopmund, where apparently both Brangelina and Sharon Osborn were vacationing. Our campsite was beautiful, right on the beach, with hot showers and a close proximity to town. On Christmas morning we had a Secret Santa exchange, which was fairly hilarious with the china shop gems that everyone came up with.

            The rest of the week was spent sipping coffee in German cafes, playing flag football on the beach, and enjoying bonfires and dance parties on the beach. For two days, we rented two pickups, slammed 20 people into them, and traveled up to Cape Cross to see a seal colony and down to Dune 7 and Walvis Bay. Overnight, we camped on the beach next to a shipwreck, one of many that contributed to the region’s name, Skeleton Coast.

            On New Year’s Eve, the local beachside bar sponsored a giant bonfire, so we had a blast, met many South Africans, and counted down the new year. An added bonus of the trip was seeing the Capital One Bowl on New Year’s Day at a local sports bar. We ordered pizza and watched American football for the first time all season, which did a number on my homesickness. It didn’t help that Big Blue was the mascot of the year and plastered on the TV for a couple of minutes. It’s hard to imagine that the ODU and ACC basketball seasons are currently in full swing back in the states.

            Meanwhile, I am starting to sweat over the upcoming school year. This week teachers return to school and the following will bring the learners. I can’t anticipate much because I have heard that many learners don’t show up for the first couple of weeks. Some because they don’t know what day it is, others because they are still farming and the rest because they know the teachers won’t be there. It’s difficult to plan, but I plan on doing introductions for the first month to see the level of individual learners and to memorize their names, get them comfortable with my accent, etc. It’s going to be hard easing into the year as I would love to hit the ground running, and I know that the learners are extremely far behind where they are supposed to be. Not to mention, after an amazing vacation, I can’t really remember village life. Hello again roaming cattle, hippos, and baby goats!

           

"Wait for Santa to sail in with your presents in a canoe"

I love Rundu. Love love love it. Although it's blazing hot, I love walking everywhere, greeting strangers, running into colleagues, and eating fresh fruit off the tree.

I'm spending this off week in town, running errands and relaxing before a crazy festive week in Swakop, holiday capital of southern Africa.

I went to my village last week to fetch a few things for the trip and to drop off my dressier clothes from reconnect. Although I wasn't looking forward to paying for transport then spending the night in an empty house in an empty village, it turned out to be a worthwhile trip. The village was more bustling than I anticipated. Now that it's rainy season (aka harvest time!!), many of my colleagues have left to work their own farms, but at the same time, the families that stay in my village are now out and about, working and celebrating weddings and the holidays.

While over 95% of the Nam population classifies as Christian, Christmas is not so much in the air. While rich Afrikaaners in Windhoek ran about in Santa and elf costumes, up here in the north, there is hardly a sign that we are approaching the end of December. I have come to embrace this fact, because it fends off the homesickness to be hot and sweating in floral tank tops and shitenges (bright swatches of  beautifully patterned fabric that women wrap around their waists) rather than wrapping up in red sweaters that remind me how far I am from my family. But, I am told that on holidays (Xmas and New Year's Eves), the riverside beach fills up with party-goers, and in the village people will eat macaroni and rice, which is somewhat of a rare commodity for many families. When I visited site last week, there was a large yellow tent set up near the river, and my principal told me that there will be holiday celebrations there. I guess I live in a big village after all!

All-in-all, I am very happy to be here. I am saddened by the fact that I will not be with my family and friends around the holidays, but experiencing a hot Christmas void of materialistic gifts is a nice change of pace and, at the risk of sounding corny, a reminder of what is important in life. Life isn't about shiny wrapping papers and time-saving electronics. It's about greeting strangers and spending time with those who are important to us, celebrating traditions and creating new ones, reflection of past good times and anticipation of what's to come.

Happy holidays everyone!

Reconnect

This week I am at reconnect, which is supposed to be an additional training after we've been to our sites for a significant amount of time (6 weeks) and before we start full-time teaching, but it's really just an excuse for us to all party together and laugh a lot in a controlled environment.

On that note, we're staying at a conference center in the mountains outside of Windhoek, and I literally don't know if I could be happier. They were very right about the ups and downs of service-- a couple of weeks ago I was in my village all alone and crying because I was missing Thanksgiving for the first time and no one seemed to care, and now I am relishing in beautiful weather, tons of great food, hot coffee, hot showers, and spectacular views, sunrises, sunsets, and even a downpour that left a double rainbow as the sun was setting.

Saturday I went to town to do some shopping and eat some good food. It was exactly what I needed. It absolutely gave me a burst of reverse culture shock that I've been needing. The mall here is nicer than many malls in the States, and being there on a weekend of holiday shopping season was more than overwhelming after being at site for so long. There were multiple Santas that didn't pull the look off very well, not to mention slutty helper elves and SO MANY white people. I was extremely uncomfortable being a minority, mostly b/c this country has the largest income gap of any, so I knew that the packed mall was filled with the wealthy 5% of the population while something like 80% of the rural population lacks sanitary latrines and literally has to poop in the bush. It was a huge reminder as to why our work here can be so difficult to accomplish with the racial tensions that are still operating.

Anyway, highlight was a ham and cheese panini paired with a greek salad with feta (!) cheese.  Also, was able to pick up a few things that for site, and on Sunday a group went to see Harry Potter (yes, there is a movie theater in Nam...) I stayed back and nursed a cold and soaked up free internet. It was maybe one of my favorite weekends ever.

Next weekend I'm going to a diversity committee meeting in the city. The goal is to organize a nationwide tour for learners who never get to leave their villages in the bush. I'm really excited at the prospect.

More soon!

step by step, day by day

I have now been at site for two weeks. My latest mantra is, "one day at a time."

Let me take a minute to describe my site. I am in a village just south of the Okavango River, and it is beautiful. Literally one of the most aesthetically pleasing places I have ever been. Last week I watched Lion King one day and couldn’t resist finding Nam in every bit. The desert scenes remind me of my training site and the drive from that site in central Nam to my current site in the north. Windmills are scattered, along with wildlife, on the sides of the highway. The earth cracks with dryness, and as soon as you cross the green line (a mark that divides the fertile, farming land from the dust that is the rest of the country), you are immediately in a new world.

Traditional homesteads populate this region, comprised of wooden huts with thatched grass or tin roofs. Other than homes, there are literally only shebeens—bars that specialize in a local brew made of maize meal. These are usually made from mud or cement blocks. Often, these bars will also sell groceries such as maize meal, cooking oil, and soaps. Many people here are unemployed and receive a monthly pension check from the government. Many children are orphans. Many orphans are also parents. On payday or pension paydays, entire communities will convene at shebeens. The majority of these establishments take credit, so if one buys too much beer than their pension will allow, he or she will spend the first portion of the next check paying back debts.

A large problem with the education system is a lack of equality between urban and rural areas. As teachers becomes qualified, it is much more appealing to go work in a town, where they have access to amenities, can establish a nice living situation for their families, and they can continue to work on their education with postgrad certificate classes. To try and equalize the quality of education throughout the country, the government has an incentive system for rural areas. Teachers outside of the towns receive bush checks, and the amount is variable depending on the school’s situation. The idea is a good one, but the practicality of it is questionable. My school is currently overstaffed, and two teachers will have to transfer by January. An incentive to volunteer to leave is that the bush checks at the hiring schools is higher. While this move encourages qualified teachers to spread their talents into bush schools, it is a double-edged sword. As a result of it, many teachers are constantly moving or rotating schools to find better pay. Their families may live in town, or they may live in the village where the teacher grew up. Consequently, teachers are constantly leaving the school’s village to visit family and friends (every weekend, holiday, funeral, wedding, or other major event). This makes for a migratory community—full of members who migrate across the country. Unfortunately, it makes it hard to establish clubs, projects, etc. because the manpower is not only unavailable to work but also not invested in the work. When a teacher leaves his or her community to follow the bush check or available teaching position, he or she does not view the school’s community as his or her own. Instead, it is a sort of transitory place, and their homes here are temporary weekday homes. This feeling translates to the learners, who, along with the staff, come to school to work and then go home to their own families and lives. School is not their community, where resources and relationships are available but instead a group of buildings where they are lectured to and expected to pass exams as a stepping stone to a possible career. For those who wish to remain in the village after schooling, particularly young mothers, there is not much of a motive to attend classes or pass examinations, because doing so will not directly benefit them. Parents may encourage children to start a family at a young age so that they will have a generation of grandchildren to take care of them and their land on the homestead when they become elders. For those who become teachers, it is expected that their salary will help pay for the family’s food; to compensate for not being there to labor, the teacher must be there for the family economically, and visit often to help with the chores, at the church, with farming and harvesting, etc.

Back to my site. The foundation and ideals of a successful school are absolutely here. I have not seen corporal punishment, which happens with frequency throughout the country, the principal is female, and the facilities are pretty nice. Most learners have textbooks, chairs, desks, and pens, there is a computer lab with a printer and scanner, and there is a tap with running water on the school grounds. The cleaner is wonderful and maintains the grounds, and there is actually a garden and soccer field just next to the school. This winter, the combined school (grades 5-10) will begin planting maize meal, which will feed learners. The primary school’s half of the garden is already up and running. There is a netball field but it needs a lot of work, as the rims are bent and vary in height, and I can dunk on both of them.

However, all of this maintenance is operated by the personal funds of the teachers here. Every morning it seems that there is a new request for money to pay for the computer lab fee (ink and toner cartridges), copy machine contribution (they hope to purchase one next February and have been collecting all year), sport (transportation to nearby school for the occasional Wednesday soccer/netball tournament), end of the year function, etc. It is frustrating to me that the money for bush checks, often spent on alcohol or sent back to another village, but that there is no money for computer paper or a copy machine. Also, there’s a big initiative to involve technology in the classrooms, so there are nice computers, but there are no chairs in the lab, and there is no A/C unit to keep the machines cool enough to function properly. There also, obviously, is no internet in the lab.

I have many project ideas already. I’d like to work on the condition of the athletics fields and participation. I’d like to start a school newspaper club. I’d like to come up with some way to get HIV/AIDS education translate to reality for these learners. But most of all, I hope to find a community within this community that has any interest in these kinds of projects. I would like to find a way to allow the learners to have time to participate in them. They spend all day until 1:00 in classes, then walk, often significant distances, home for lunch, where they will often just get the leftover porridge, then come back from 3:00-4:30 to do large sums of homework they were assigned, and then rush back home to collect water from the river before dark, help prepare dinner and care for younger siblings in homesteads that largely have no electricity. They must arise early the next day to walk the many km back to school by 7:00. So, I wouldn’t say that it’s apathy that prevents projects and clubs from succeeding here but rather lack of time and resources and priorities that rightly lay in caring for and respecting family.

Anyway, all that aside, some are probably wondering about my living conditions. I stay in one of three teachers’ houses at the school. I share it with two female colleagues. There is the infrastructure for running water, but it doesn’t work, so we fetch water in buckets daily by turning on a tap outside the house that sends water shooting out of our kitchen wall. Consequently, that water has to flow through rusted pipes where dust and whatever else has settled, meaning that I boil my drinking water. Unfortunately that doesn’t get rid of the aluminum, but it isn’t so bad. We have a shower room, where I bucket bathe at 6:00 a.m., and we flush our indoor toilet by pouring water into the bowl. Generally, my house doesn’t smell too great. But, good news is that there is electricity, and all of the windows have burglar bars. Aside from the potential snakes and spiders, I feel overall very safe in my home. Occasionally, fishermen will walk by selling fish strung from sticks. This week I will try and cook one myself for the first time.

The rain hasn’t really started yet but we’ve gotten a couple of strong storms overnight, and today is very windy so my fingers are crossed. I run in the evenings, when I get the chance to greet others in my village, many of whom survive off maize farming. The other evening, I stopped to greet and speak with some villagers, and as I ran from the main road, their dogs scattering a bit, I heard a commotion behind me. When I turned around, one of the family’s dogs was rolling, lifeless, across the road. He was struck by a speeding vehicle and killed immediately. Last Friday, on my way into town, I found out that an eleven-year-old learner was struck similarly just ten minutes before. The weekend before, a local principal was killed in a car accident when he was driving home. He had been drinking in town and fell asleep at the wheel, his car getting lodged under a bus going the opposite direction. A big problem is that the tarred road up here is new, and in fact not even yet complete, so people are not familiar with properly crossing the road or walking on the paths to the sides of the road. Also, vehicles are often traveling long distances and the population isn’t very dense along the road, so they take advantage of the new tarred road and speed, and there is no formal traffic police system that will punish or deter drivers from drinking, speeding, or both.

All this to say, if you are in America, don’t take it for granted. Respect the establishment of a police force, even if you cannot respect some of the individuals in it. Relish the security of our schoolchildren and our transportation systems and speed limits. Feel happy that in the schools you attended, A/C and heat, as well as government feeding programs, could allow the learners to remain focused in class. And most of all, love your showers!!!

Sidenote: some have asked if there is anything I need shipped. I am pretty much ok, but I LOVE letters and cards (and they have a smaller chance of getting stolen by customs officers). I will also never turn down any flavored powders for water (Gatorade, crystal light, decent instant coffee, whatever), cheese packets from mac and cheese, or any good Newsweek/Time/Nat Geo. My new address is in Rundu, but because I will not be here for good until January, continue sending anything to the Ausspanplatz, Windhoek address for the time being, and hopefully I’ll get it in four weeks when I go there for reconnect. Hint hint: I’m not overly enthused about missing Xmas, so any Xmas cards will be most cherished!! Also, no more good packages til Jan cause apparently there’s a high rate of postal theft during the holidays, and mail takes forever to get here in Nov-Dec. boo.

Feliz Dia de los Muertos!!!

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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.