September 18, 2010
Today we got our site annoucements and I am thrilled. It sounds like everything I have ever wanted! I go next Friday to actually visit and stay for a week so we will have to see how it actually turns out but I will give you the details that I was given. I will be living on a homestead, which means on a family compound but with my own space. It looks like I have a small brick house on the homestead. There is no electricity, but there is electricity at my school. I actually have to obtain water from a tap that is 1.5 km away, which is about 1 mile away. Looks like I will be carrying some water on my head, am I right? Another positive thing is that I am only 10 km outside of a major shopping town that a lot of other Peace Corps Volunteers are around. It looks like I will be able to live the rural lifestyle but not feel totally isolated in the middle of nowhere! I am so happy and I can not wait to meet my new family. Why must we wait a whole week!
Friday, September 17, 2010
We Like Sports and We Don't Care Who Knows
September 15, 2010
It has been a fun filled week of sports and tests. On Friday, all the trainees ended up going to the town hotel and ordering pizza by the pool. The pool was actually freezing but it was so good to swim when it is so hot all day. We had a blast and I was back by 7:30pm. The next morning, we went to the community hall where we have class and we had a group of traditional Oshiwombo dancers come in. It was a hilarious morning. The group would dance to drumming that the dancers themselves produced and some singing that they did. They were in traditional outfits, had skins wrapped around their lower half of their bodies and canes to work with. They would stomp so hard and make such loud, fast rhythms with their feet it was unbelievable. It is very hard to explain, but hopefully I can figure out how to post my pictures on here. And hopefully I have some pictures. We taught them the electric slide, because we could not come up with anything better. It seemed that it could have been potentially overwhelmingly embarrassing especially since we did not have music, but the lack of music actually made it better. We did it to a drum beat. They seemed to like it a lot. We also did the chicken dance, the worm and the tootsie roll lol. We were really trying to come up with something.
Sunday I went to church again and I was asked to sing another testimony. The preacher said that I was already on the program so I had to do it. However, I decided to respectfully decline. I’m unpredictable. After church, I went with my friend Ryan to play basketball. His host dad is the vice president of the Namibian Basketball Federation here and we went to the only school in the area that has a basketball hoop. Everywhere there are netball courts. Netball is this knock-off basketball sport that has hoops but no backboards and you can not dribble. It is very strange and slow apparently. I get picked up in a car by Ryan, his host dad, Snake, and D. We roll into the court, which only has one hoop, and there are a bunch of Africans standing around listening to Namibian rap music. Snake opens up the door for me because his car is really a three door and we hop out and give our greetings. Handshakes left and right, like whad up whad up whad up, except it is more like “How are you? I’m fine. Thanks, How are you?” They do not know what’s up means here.
The court is the most ghetto thing I have ever played on. Instead of tar/cement, it is composed of cracked concrete blocks that are not level. The hoop is about 9 ft tall and it was seriously bent such that I did not want to shoot from one side. No net obviously. The backboard is made of rotting wood so if you fire it at the backboard, it will likely go in due to the impact that the board can take. Snake and D make the brilliant decision to fix the rim so Snake gets wire clippers out of his car and they clip off some of the barbed wire that surrounds the court. There is barbed wire everywhere and for no reason sometimes. You will see things that are partially enclosed by barbed wire that absolutely have no reason to be, not to mention that partially encircling something doesn’t keep anything out. So Snake gets the barbed wire and gets on D’s shoulders and tries to maneuver a way to get the rim to stay in place. Then someone pulled up their car onto the court and he stood on that. It was one of my favorite images of Africa thus far. I mean this image is what I live for. They got it to work, the rim was straightened out, and we balled. It was so much fun that when the sun went down, we turned on all the car headlights in order to keep playing. I am playing again with them tomorrow. Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday baby.
One of the guys that we played with asked us if we would play softball with them this Wednesday and we said yes. They had all the equipment and we got about 13 players from Peace Corps to come with us. We also had some Peace Corps spectators. We did not have his contact number and we did not exactly know where to go. All 20 of us just went to a field and hoped. Upon arrival, you could see 10 high school aged Namibians in full baseball uniforms in front of a portable backstop amongst a field of people playing soccer, rugby, and track. I was picturing Bozo-esque slow pitch softball but it wasn’t. The pitcher really gave it some heat, and there were strike outs. We had a bunch of people who had never played but we still competed with these boys. They apparently do not have any opponents really, because they are one of the only softball teams in Namibia. Go figure. And here they are in matching uniforms, pants and all, with their names on the backs of their shirts, without anyone to compete against. It was a blast. We played until the sun went down and ended up tying them 7-7. We are hoping to make it a weekly ordeal.
I am half-way done with my training. It is incredible. I had my LPI , or my language assessment interview, and it was wild thinking about how far I have to become proficient. It is hard in an English-speaking country to learn the language. It has been good having Ebba here, because she and my host mom speak in their mother-tongue together and I am more exposed to the language. Oh! I received mail on Tuesday from Nonny & Poppy Lambert, my mom, and Stephanie (the girl I mentored in Rochester). It was so awesome getting mail and it looks like it takes about 3-4 weeks *hint, hint*.
The next most exciting thing that is coming up is that my site announcement occurs on Friday. I can’t believe that it is almost already here. My fate will soon be revealed.
It has been a fun filled week of sports and tests. On Friday, all the trainees ended up going to the town hotel and ordering pizza by the pool. The pool was actually freezing but it was so good to swim when it is so hot all day. We had a blast and I was back by 7:30pm. The next morning, we went to the community hall where we have class and we had a group of traditional Oshiwombo dancers come in. It was a hilarious morning. The group would dance to drumming that the dancers themselves produced and some singing that they did. They were in traditional outfits, had skins wrapped around their lower half of their bodies and canes to work with. They would stomp so hard and make such loud, fast rhythms with their feet it was unbelievable. It is very hard to explain, but hopefully I can figure out how to post my pictures on here. And hopefully I have some pictures. We taught them the electric slide, because we could not come up with anything better. It seemed that it could have been potentially overwhelmingly embarrassing especially since we did not have music, but the lack of music actually made it better. We did it to a drum beat. They seemed to like it a lot. We also did the chicken dance, the worm and the tootsie roll lol. We were really trying to come up with something.
Sunday I went to church again and I was asked to sing another testimony. The preacher said that I was already on the program so I had to do it. However, I decided to respectfully decline. I’m unpredictable. After church, I went with my friend Ryan to play basketball. His host dad is the vice president of the Namibian Basketball Federation here and we went to the only school in the area that has a basketball hoop. Everywhere there are netball courts. Netball is this knock-off basketball sport that has hoops but no backboards and you can not dribble. It is very strange and slow apparently. I get picked up in a car by Ryan, his host dad, Snake, and D. We roll into the court, which only has one hoop, and there are a bunch of Africans standing around listening to Namibian rap music. Snake opens up the door for me because his car is really a three door and we hop out and give our greetings. Handshakes left and right, like whad up whad up whad up, except it is more like “How are you? I’m fine. Thanks, How are you?” They do not know what’s up means here.
The court is the most ghetto thing I have ever played on. Instead of tar/cement, it is composed of cracked concrete blocks that are not level. The hoop is about 9 ft tall and it was seriously bent such that I did not want to shoot from one side. No net obviously. The backboard is made of rotting wood so if you fire it at the backboard, it will likely go in due to the impact that the board can take. Snake and D make the brilliant decision to fix the rim so Snake gets wire clippers out of his car and they clip off some of the barbed wire that surrounds the court. There is barbed wire everywhere and for no reason sometimes. You will see things that are partially enclosed by barbed wire that absolutely have no reason to be, not to mention that partially encircling something doesn’t keep anything out. So Snake gets the barbed wire and gets on D’s shoulders and tries to maneuver a way to get the rim to stay in place. Then someone pulled up their car onto the court and he stood on that. It was one of my favorite images of Africa thus far. I mean this image is what I live for. They got it to work, the rim was straightened out, and we balled. It was so much fun that when the sun went down, we turned on all the car headlights in order to keep playing. I am playing again with them tomorrow. Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday baby.
One of the guys that we played with asked us if we would play softball with them this Wednesday and we said yes. They had all the equipment and we got about 13 players from Peace Corps to come with us. We also had some Peace Corps spectators. We did not have his contact number and we did not exactly know where to go. All 20 of us just went to a field and hoped. Upon arrival, you could see 10 high school aged Namibians in full baseball uniforms in front of a portable backstop amongst a field of people playing soccer, rugby, and track. I was picturing Bozo-esque slow pitch softball but it wasn’t. The pitcher really gave it some heat, and there were strike outs. We had a bunch of people who had never played but we still competed with these boys. They apparently do not have any opponents really, because they are one of the only softball teams in Namibia. Go figure. And here they are in matching uniforms, pants and all, with their names on the backs of their shirts, without anyone to compete against. It was a blast. We played until the sun went down and ended up tying them 7-7. We are hoping to make it a weekly ordeal.
I am half-way done with my training. It is incredible. I had my LPI , or my language assessment interview, and it was wild thinking about how far I have to become proficient. It is hard in an English-speaking country to learn the language. It has been good having Ebba here, because she and my host mom speak in their mother-tongue together and I am more exposed to the language. Oh! I received mail on Tuesday from Nonny & Poppy Lambert, my mom, and Stephanie (the girl I mentored in Rochester). It was so awesome getting mail and it looks like it takes about 3-4 weeks *hint, hint*.
The next most exciting thing that is coming up is that my site announcement occurs on Friday. I can’t believe that it is almost already here. My fate will soon be revealed.
My First Blackout
September 8, 2010
Woosh, Splish, swish, splash waka waka splash, splish, woosh goes my laundry that I hand wash using the heel of my hand as the wash board. It is my second time hand washing and this time Ndahafa is not at careful watch, but her friend Ebba is. Ebba speaks broken English, and every time she speaks I wonder if she is addressing me in Oshindonga or in English. She is the new addition to our family. I was told that Ebba was coming, but not that she would be staying with us for the remainder of my time here until a few days after she had arrived. There are only two bedrooms in the house and Peace Corps rules require that I get my own room to stay in, so the other three stay in one room. I feel guilty as a sprawl out in my queen-size bed underneath my mosquito net, insinuating that there are too many insects during the insect-free season for my liking.
Next I see Itana come walking toward me, carrying a stool on his head and I wonder if it was sent for me by Ndahafa. But he puts it down and in comes the queen of the house. She sits down on the stool to watch me pathetically attempt to scrub the BO out of the armpits of my shirt and laughs. She orders Itana to get Ebba a chair too and they sit down to watch my performance. Altogether I have washed about 10-12 pieces of clothing since I have been in Africa (not including underwear). It is unacceptable but my Western hands can’t handle the pressure. My back hurts from bending over to scrub in the water and I decide to spread my legs out in the sand so I do not have to bend. I am caught quickly. “Ah ah ah. That is not how a lady stands! Open like that! People will think you are loose!” So I quickly stand up straight against my will to do my back-breaking (literally) chores, listening to her repeating commands like ,“Concentrate on one part” or “Just focus, ne?” Then, my six year old neighbor who speaks mainly Afrikaans runs over and asks me in English, “When you are finished with your work, will you come and play dodge ball?”
This is so heart-warming to me because all I want is to hang out with my little brother and for him to think I am cool. For everyone else it has been automatic; their siblings love to touch their hair, listen to them talk, ask them questions about America, and thus the Namibians think they are cool. For me it has been a slow-moving process. I know what you are thinking, it is very surprising. So when the kids want to play cards with me, I leap up and go get them. When Itana talks to me, I answer immediately like he is a celebrity. On Sunday, I decided that I would teach them dodge ball. Every ball this neighborhood has owned pops in a matter of minutes. There are rocks, thorn bushes, and eager children playing so it is inevitable. I thought, you know what I can teach them to do with all these flat balls? To throw them as hard as possible at each other. So I did. And it turned out to be a big hit! That was Sunday and today is Wednesday, and today we had all the neighbors in our back yard (made of sand) getting down and dirty dodging, dipping, diving, ducking, and dodging. (Too easy to make a Dodgeball the movie joke?) If nothing else, I think that this will be my one act of sustainable development in Namibia.
Ebba asked me to cook traditional American food and I told her that the only traditional American food is McDonalds which she did not understand. No McDonalds around these parts I guess, but there is a KFC so I told her that that was our traditional food and she got a great kick out of it. All they had for me to cook this week was meat and I really do not know what I am doing with meat. So I decided to fry some chicken to bring my culture to her. It was a bit of chaos because of the sauce I was making from a packet for my noodles and I ended up getting flustered. It turned out okay but I began to miss the relaxing glass of wine I could have with dinner at home. It would have taken the edge off because I was revved. To top off the dinner preparation fiasco, Ndahafa had to start bad mouthing gay people and we ended up in a heated discussion about homosexuality while Ebba just watched TV. The good thing is that we can make up in the end without any hard feelings, and I can go wash 25 dishes for the second time that day with dignity. I am constantly being challenged but am happy to have truly put my own values out on the table for my first time tonight. After all, this whole Peace Corps experience is also supposed to help others learn about Americans too.
I am looking forward to playing basketball tomorrow after school and then going out to have pizza with other Peace Corps Trainees on Friday. It is good to get out of this house for a little bit, because it can be a little bit much going to school all day and sitting at home and watching TV all night.
Another eventful thing that happened yesterday was that the entire town’s electricity and water went out because the town did not pay their utility bill to the capital and owes the utility company about 12 million dollars. Haha! We had to have an emergency evacuation from school just in case. We went to the grocery store where all the refrigerators were out of power and food was sitting in darkness on shelves. We bought bread and water in case we would not be able to cook. Fortunately, the power went back on in a few hours because election day is coming up and it reflects badly on the reputations of the current politicians. I asked Ndahafa how often this happens and she said, “Not often, like every three months.” Haha Only in Africa.
Woosh, Splish, swish, splash waka waka splash, splish, woosh goes my laundry that I hand wash using the heel of my hand as the wash board. It is my second time hand washing and this time Ndahafa is not at careful watch, but her friend Ebba is. Ebba speaks broken English, and every time she speaks I wonder if she is addressing me in Oshindonga or in English. She is the new addition to our family. I was told that Ebba was coming, but not that she would be staying with us for the remainder of my time here until a few days after she had arrived. There are only two bedrooms in the house and Peace Corps rules require that I get my own room to stay in, so the other three stay in one room. I feel guilty as a sprawl out in my queen-size bed underneath my mosquito net, insinuating that there are too many insects during the insect-free season for my liking.
Next I see Itana come walking toward me, carrying a stool on his head and I wonder if it was sent for me by Ndahafa. But he puts it down and in comes the queen of the house. She sits down on the stool to watch me pathetically attempt to scrub the BO out of the armpits of my shirt and laughs. She orders Itana to get Ebba a chair too and they sit down to watch my performance. Altogether I have washed about 10-12 pieces of clothing since I have been in Africa (not including underwear). It is unacceptable but my Western hands can’t handle the pressure. My back hurts from bending over to scrub in the water and I decide to spread my legs out in the sand so I do not have to bend. I am caught quickly. “Ah ah ah. That is not how a lady stands! Open like that! People will think you are loose!” So I quickly stand up straight against my will to do my back-breaking (literally) chores, listening to her repeating commands like ,“Concentrate on one part” or “Just focus, ne?” Then, my six year old neighbor who speaks mainly Afrikaans runs over and asks me in English, “When you are finished with your work, will you come and play dodge ball?”
This is so heart-warming to me because all I want is to hang out with my little brother and for him to think I am cool. For everyone else it has been automatic; their siblings love to touch their hair, listen to them talk, ask them questions about America, and thus the Namibians think they are cool. For me it has been a slow-moving process. I know what you are thinking, it is very surprising. So when the kids want to play cards with me, I leap up and go get them. When Itana talks to me, I answer immediately like he is a celebrity. On Sunday, I decided that I would teach them dodge ball. Every ball this neighborhood has owned pops in a matter of minutes. There are rocks, thorn bushes, and eager children playing so it is inevitable. I thought, you know what I can teach them to do with all these flat balls? To throw them as hard as possible at each other. So I did. And it turned out to be a big hit! That was Sunday and today is Wednesday, and today we had all the neighbors in our back yard (made of sand) getting down and dirty dodging, dipping, diving, ducking, and dodging. (Too easy to make a Dodgeball the movie joke?) If nothing else, I think that this will be my one act of sustainable development in Namibia.
Ebba asked me to cook traditional American food and I told her that the only traditional American food is McDonalds which she did not understand. No McDonalds around these parts I guess, but there is a KFC so I told her that that was our traditional food and she got a great kick out of it. All they had for me to cook this week was meat and I really do not know what I am doing with meat. So I decided to fry some chicken to bring my culture to her. It was a bit of chaos because of the sauce I was making from a packet for my noodles and I ended up getting flustered. It turned out okay but I began to miss the relaxing glass of wine I could have with dinner at home. It would have taken the edge off because I was revved. To top off the dinner preparation fiasco, Ndahafa had to start bad mouthing gay people and we ended up in a heated discussion about homosexuality while Ebba just watched TV. The good thing is that we can make up in the end without any hard feelings, and I can go wash 25 dishes for the second time that day with dignity. I am constantly being challenged but am happy to have truly put my own values out on the table for my first time tonight. After all, this whole Peace Corps experience is also supposed to help others learn about Americans too.
I am looking forward to playing basketball tomorrow after school and then going out to have pizza with other Peace Corps Trainees on Friday. It is good to get out of this house for a little bit, because it can be a little bit much going to school all day and sitting at home and watching TV all night.
Another eventful thing that happened yesterday was that the entire town’s electricity and water went out because the town did not pay their utility bill to the capital and owes the utility company about 12 million dollars. Haha! We had to have an emergency evacuation from school just in case. We went to the grocery store where all the refrigerators were out of power and food was sitting in darkness on shelves. We bought bread and water in case we would not be able to cook. Fortunately, the power went back on in a few hours because election day is coming up and it reflects badly on the reputations of the current politicians. I asked Ndahafa how often this happens and she said, “Not often, like every three months.” Haha Only in Africa.
Hiding out
September 5, 2010
It is Sunday morning and I am hiding out under my mosquito net. My room becomes illuminated through the curtain by the sunrise around 6:30 am or so, and it is a delightful way to wake up. I have been waking up before or at 7 am every morning and going out to hang with the family. Today, I decided to spend more time to myself. I have been feeling a little threatened by Ndahafa lately and I do not know why. I think I have been identifying with my little brother a little too much and have been a bit resentful. When I view her from his perspective, I see her as totalitarian. She is not really involved in his life and is very critical of him. Yesterday he was sitting with his legs crossed and she yelled at him. She was like, “I don’t like when he sits like that. That is how gay people sit. It is a secret language they use.” I feel like my views are being challenged everyday and it is hard to always be disagreeing with someone when you live in the same house. I have been avoiding any tension with her, but I feel that my evasiveness has been building up inside of me. I am not one to really hold my tongue, as many of you may know, so I am feeling the pang of repressed energy becoming evident.
What I really should be focusing on is who she is from my perspective. She is a warm, kind person, who gave up one of her two bedrooms, her home, and her food for me. She is interested in me and is supportive. Although she preaches to me often, I believe it is out of the goodness of her heart. She is very serious about her religion and she just wants to share it. Also, she is giving me exposure to the widespread viewpoints of many Namibians, whether it be homophobia, corporal punishment, gender role conflict, or witchcraft and spiritual warfare.
Other than that, yesterday we had a cultural food day celebration. All the host families were invited and all of our trainers were there. We had different foods from all different cultures such as Oshiwombo, KKG, Otjiherero, and Afrikaans. It was very interesting to say the least. Three of my friends killed chickens by standing on their wings with their feet, pulling up its neck, and decapitating it. Fresh free range, organic chicken! We cooked outside on open fires surrounded by rocks to hold up the pots. There was chicken, mutton, beef, goat and fish. There were different types of bread and porridge. Also we ate some caterpillars, which is a part of the Oshiwombo (which is Oshindonga speaking and Oshikwanyama speaking) culture, so I should be eating some of that in the future. Honestly, I can handle the caterpillars (which they call worms) easier than the mutton. It was a great celebration, because my host mom and her friend came and many were dressed in traditional outfits (including my mom, Ndahafa). We kicked around a soccer ball and everyone was impressed by my (lack of) skills. Haha The Namibians were like, “Wow you play like a boy.” I’m thinking, you should see some of my friends play.
Afterwards, about 15 of us went to a restaurant nearby, hung out and watched the South African Rugby game. I felt like I was watching Invictus in New Baltimore, but instead I am actually in Africa watching South African rugby. Then I came home and Itana (my brother) was with his two friends who only speak Afrikaans, and he actually asked me to play cards! That was such a good feeling for me. So I got my cards and we were playing. Then Ndahafa called me to go hang out with her so I had to kind of quit. Then we watched Mighty Joe Young and I made two batches of popcorn for everyone. I made it the other night out of the pan and put butter and salt on it. I thought it was good but I asked Itana to check. He was like, “Sugar.” I was like, what? And he got out confectioner’s sugar. We sprinkled that on it too and it turns out that it is pretty awesome. Ndahafa was loving it last night so I made another batch. She is all excited because we were mixing the salty and the sweet, which she said was very fine. Small victories.
It is Sunday morning and I am hiding out under my mosquito net. My room becomes illuminated through the curtain by the sunrise around 6:30 am or so, and it is a delightful way to wake up. I have been waking up before or at 7 am every morning and going out to hang with the family. Today, I decided to spend more time to myself. I have been feeling a little threatened by Ndahafa lately and I do not know why. I think I have been identifying with my little brother a little too much and have been a bit resentful. When I view her from his perspective, I see her as totalitarian. She is not really involved in his life and is very critical of him. Yesterday he was sitting with his legs crossed and she yelled at him. She was like, “I don’t like when he sits like that. That is how gay people sit. It is a secret language they use.” I feel like my views are being challenged everyday and it is hard to always be disagreeing with someone when you live in the same house. I have been avoiding any tension with her, but I feel that my evasiveness has been building up inside of me. I am not one to really hold my tongue, as many of you may know, so I am feeling the pang of repressed energy becoming evident.
What I really should be focusing on is who she is from my perspective. She is a warm, kind person, who gave up one of her two bedrooms, her home, and her food for me. She is interested in me and is supportive. Although she preaches to me often, I believe it is out of the goodness of her heart. She is very serious about her religion and she just wants to share it. Also, she is giving me exposure to the widespread viewpoints of many Namibians, whether it be homophobia, corporal punishment, gender role conflict, or witchcraft and spiritual warfare.
Other than that, yesterday we had a cultural food day celebration. All the host families were invited and all of our trainers were there. We had different foods from all different cultures such as Oshiwombo, KKG, Otjiherero, and Afrikaans. It was very interesting to say the least. Three of my friends killed chickens by standing on their wings with their feet, pulling up its neck, and decapitating it. Fresh free range, organic chicken! We cooked outside on open fires surrounded by rocks to hold up the pots. There was chicken, mutton, beef, goat and fish. There were different types of bread and porridge. Also we ate some caterpillars, which is a part of the Oshiwombo (which is Oshindonga speaking and Oshikwanyama speaking) culture, so I should be eating some of that in the future. Honestly, I can handle the caterpillars (which they call worms) easier than the mutton. It was a great celebration, because my host mom and her friend came and many were dressed in traditional outfits (including my mom, Ndahafa). We kicked around a soccer ball and everyone was impressed by my (lack of) skills. Haha The Namibians were like, “Wow you play like a boy.” I’m thinking, you should see some of my friends play.
Afterwards, about 15 of us went to a restaurant nearby, hung out and watched the South African Rugby game. I felt like I was watching Invictus in New Baltimore, but instead I am actually in Africa watching South African rugby. Then I came home and Itana (my brother) was with his two friends who only speak Afrikaans, and he actually asked me to play cards! That was such a good feeling for me. So I got my cards and we were playing. Then Ndahafa called me to go hang out with her so I had to kind of quit. Then we watched Mighty Joe Young and I made two batches of popcorn for everyone. I made it the other night out of the pan and put butter and salt on it. I thought it was good but I asked Itana to check. He was like, “Sugar.” I was like, what? And he got out confectioner’s sugar. We sprinkled that on it too and it turns out that it is pretty awesome. Ndahafa was loving it last night so I made another batch. She is all excited because we were mixing the salty and the sweet, which she said was very fine. Small victories.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
It's 3 am and I'm still awake writing a song
Sept 1, 2010
The long hot African days are taking a toll on me. Today I could not wait to get home and rest, and then I realized that i had to do my laundry, which i have not done since I got here. So maybe I claimed that I would do it three days ago, but I have not. Now I am starting to feel humbled, because washing your clothes by hand sucks. I could only do a very limited amount of clothing and I thought it was never end. There is a whole methodology to it that Ndahafa showed me and basically you use your knuckles as a washboard. It takes like 10 minutes to handwash one pair of pants. She says to me, "This is nothing my dear! Try cultivating the fields without any money for livestock!" Degrading and comforting at the same time.
I can only get free internet in the middle of the night so I woke up at 1 am to go online and now it is 3 am but it feels so nice to be able to take my time. The only other times I have been online were when people are waiting to use the computer behind me or when I got to quickly borrow someone's iPhone. After my total embarrassment trying to handwash my clothes (and i mean like 5 items of clothing and 10 pairs of underwear that you are not supposed to wash in public), I come into the house to relax and watch some Shades of Sin like usual. It is this mexican soap opera (which they call a soapy lol) that is dubbed over by terrible English voice actors. Shades of Sin is a huge hit here. Everyone knows about Paco and Preta's love drama and it is the talk of the town. [We watch TV non-stop and it is overwhelming. I mean that it is on all day and all night. We got up early on Sunday morning and she had the TV on some random soap opera and no one was watching it so I turned it off, and Ndahafa came out of her room like, "What is this? What happened here?" and I was like, "No one was watching it so I turned it off." Apparently she is listening in the other room to what is going on in the soap. Don't ask me how. So she turned it back on and I learned my lesson. don't turn off the TV. ] Anyway, during Shades of Sin we ate Oshimbombo (the traditional sand porridge) and cow intestines for dinner. I really couldn't do it. Is it not enough that I am eating animal skeletal muscle? Do I have to eat the smooth muscle too? The texture was somewhat like eating a tongue or something and it had all the cilia that one could imagine. I put intestines in my intestines. She said she was trying to get me used to rural food.
Last night I cooked her a tuna pasta dish that I learned in Italy. I steamed some green beans for a side and made some chicken soup for a starter randomly. I took my time with the pasta sauce and it turned out quite successful. My servant brother even went back for seconds. I have been trying to connect with him but it has been a minor failure. I bought a crappy soccerball (N$25) to kick with him. I let his friends and him take it and they popped it in like 15 minutes. So that was a fail. But I also bought cards and we played war for at least 40 minutes (and he beat me) and then some other games. That felt like a successful night even though we didn't speak. I still managed to talk smack to him in the end when I beat him at the game he taught me. "Aww don't cry Itana, it's okay don't be sad." Ndahafa thought it was funny.
I am trying to face cultural issues head on and see how I can change my way of thinking or perspective, but it can be really hard. Ndahafa is a serious born-again Christian and I am open to many religions, and it can be tiresome listening to her preach to me for a long time late at night. Sometimes what she says really conflicts with my beliefs. She is pro-corporal punishment, because they do not know anything better. She was beaten and, from what it sounds like, she would not hesitate to beat her brother and maybe learners (students), because she does not think they learn from anything else. I told her that I have never seen anyone beaten in schools in the US and most of the time, things work out fine, so I don't understand why it is necessary. There have been a number of other things but they may be too controversial to write on a blog, but everyday I feel a bit tested. It is good exposure to say the least.
The long hot African days are taking a toll on me. Today I could not wait to get home and rest, and then I realized that i had to do my laundry, which i have not done since I got here. So maybe I claimed that I would do it three days ago, but I have not. Now I am starting to feel humbled, because washing your clothes by hand sucks. I could only do a very limited amount of clothing and I thought it was never end. There is a whole methodology to it that Ndahafa showed me and basically you use your knuckles as a washboard. It takes like 10 minutes to handwash one pair of pants. She says to me, "This is nothing my dear! Try cultivating the fields without any money for livestock!" Degrading and comforting at the same time.
I can only get free internet in the middle of the night so I woke up at 1 am to go online and now it is 3 am but it feels so nice to be able to take my time. The only other times I have been online were when people are waiting to use the computer behind me or when I got to quickly borrow someone's iPhone. After my total embarrassment trying to handwash my clothes (and i mean like 5 items of clothing and 10 pairs of underwear that you are not supposed to wash in public), I come into the house to relax and watch some Shades of Sin like usual. It is this mexican soap opera (which they call a soapy lol) that is dubbed over by terrible English voice actors. Shades of Sin is a huge hit here. Everyone knows about Paco and Preta's love drama and it is the talk of the town. [We watch TV non-stop and it is overwhelming. I mean that it is on all day and all night. We got up early on Sunday morning and she had the TV on some random soap opera and no one was watching it so I turned it off, and Ndahafa came out of her room like, "What is this? What happened here?" and I was like, "No one was watching it so I turned it off." Apparently she is listening in the other room to what is going on in the soap. Don't ask me how. So she turned it back on and I learned my lesson. don't turn off the TV. ] Anyway, during Shades of Sin we ate Oshimbombo (the traditional sand porridge) and cow intestines for dinner. I really couldn't do it. Is it not enough that I am eating animal skeletal muscle? Do I have to eat the smooth muscle too? The texture was somewhat like eating a tongue or something and it had all the cilia that one could imagine. I put intestines in my intestines. She said she was trying to get me used to rural food.
Last night I cooked her a tuna pasta dish that I learned in Italy. I steamed some green beans for a side and made some chicken soup for a starter randomly. I took my time with the pasta sauce and it turned out quite successful. My servant brother even went back for seconds. I have been trying to connect with him but it has been a minor failure. I bought a crappy soccerball (N$25) to kick with him. I let his friends and him take it and they popped it in like 15 minutes. So that was a fail. But I also bought cards and we played war for at least 40 minutes (and he beat me) and then some other games. That felt like a successful night even though we didn't speak. I still managed to talk smack to him in the end when I beat him at the game he taught me. "Aww don't cry Itana, it's okay don't be sad." Ndahafa thought it was funny.
I am trying to face cultural issues head on and see how I can change my way of thinking or perspective, but it can be really hard. Ndahafa is a serious born-again Christian and I am open to many religions, and it can be tiresome listening to her preach to me for a long time late at night. Sometimes what she says really conflicts with my beliefs. She is pro-corporal punishment, because they do not know anything better. She was beaten and, from what it sounds like, she would not hesitate to beat her brother and maybe learners (students), because she does not think they learn from anything else. I told her that I have never seen anyone beaten in schools in the US and most of the time, things work out fine, so I don't understand why it is necessary. There have been a number of other things but they may be too controversial to write on a blog, but everyday I feel a bit tested. It is good exposure to say the least.
Here goes nothing
August 28, 2010
I just was looking at the Milky way and for once I knew that it was not clouds, but the Milky Way. There are no clouds here during the Winter. Just bright blue skies. I looked in the distance and saw the shapes of the trees and it looks like a you-tube video that I saw of Africa in the States.
Today was a crazy day. I went to the Pentecostal Church with Ndahafa and my little brother Itana. We walked along trails that were hidden and I had no idea where I was going. The trails are all within the brush and I would only go with my host family because otherwise I would get lost. There is trash and glass all along the trails. We don’t have a garbage man or anything like that. People just dump their in the brush in piles. The church was really a house with about 15 people. I was the only Bua or white person (derogatory) there. We sang songs (without any instruments) and then there was a part were there were testimonies. Ndahafa told me that I need to do a testimony, which is just to sing or talk about something you need to talk about. I told her that I was embarrassed and that I didn’t really feel comfortable and then she said, “I know you can sing. Don’t be embarrassed. Sing to the Lord.” So there I was. Stuck in between my comfort zone and what Ndahafa wanted me to do. I felt like if I did sing, then it would help me integrate more into the church community and if I did not then I would be letting my host mother down. (It feels weird to call her mother because she is only 35 but she calls me her daughter.) So I was like, okay here goes nothing.
I stood up in front of 15 people I have not even met, in a black African Pentecostal church, and sang my little heart out haha. I rustled up some gospel choir song and just decided to run with it. “I just can’t give up now. I’ve come too far from where I started from. Nobody told me the road would be easy and I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.” Then I pulled out some “The storm is passing over,” and forced the others to join me. It wasn’t a major hit but at least I faced a fear and confronted a cultural predicament head on. So then they decided to have me read every that the Pastor was calling upon out loud in English, and then to top it all off, I was asked to say the closing prayer. And what I mean by that is make it up on the spot. It was a bit of a disaster but I tried. Onda Pandula. *I am thankful*
Today I also bought a soccer ball that was N$25 (25 Namibian dollars and it is N$7 to $1 USD.) I actually earn N$25 walk-around allowance a day here, so it was a day’s wage. I brought it back so that Itana (little brother) will hang out with me. Within a half hour, the ball popped. So if anyone wants to send a deflated soccer ball to me, be my guest! It seemed like a good idea at the time. Another back-up plan to connect with Itana was to buy a pack of cards. So far I have been trying to get him to think I am cool by showing him my computer and it works for an hour or so. He does not like to talk much. But today I saw him the happiest I have seen him. I showed Ndahafa my ipod so that she could listen to “Miss Independent” by Ne-Yo, because she got her own thing. She was really interested b/c she had never seen an ipod and she liked it. Then she showed Itana and played that song for him. I went over and showed him that there are many more songs on the ipod. When he saw the list of artists, how to scroll, how to click, his eyes lit up. He had a friend over and they shared the earphones. He kept scrolling and I asked if he had heard of any of the artists and he was smiling so big and said ,“A lot.” He listened to it for like 30 minutes and then we went to church, but for that 30 minutes he was the happiest I had seen him.
Yesterday we went into Windhoek for the first time and went to the mall. It was a really large mall and I was impressed. It felt like it was just as big as Crossgates. Then we went to a place called Heroes’ Acre and it was a beautiful monument. We climbed to the top to a viewing point which revealed the beauty and vastness of Namibia. We also went to a graveyard of many heroes. When will I put up pictures!? How? I got a new cell phone with internet but it is very strange because you have to buy minutes and somehow having my email sucks all the minutes out. I have to get it straightened out. Our language lessons have been going well but the days are long. From 7:30 to 5:30 we have language sessions and cultural sessions. We will start technical training this week which will help me learn more skills for teaching.
I love all the other Peace Corps trainees (PCT’s) and home-life is great too. The food has been very good. The sand porridge is the weirdest thing that I have had to adapt to, and I love eating with my hands. Today she made a feast of cheesy potatoes, pumpkin, spinach, rice, chicken and sauce. It was so delicious. Ndahafa asked me, “How does your mother prepare pumpkin?” and I was like… in a pie at Thanksgiving? They eat it as a side dish and it is so good, I don’t know why we don’t do so more often. I have to do laundry and she has a washing machine, but she is going to teach me how to do so by hand. I told her that most of it is underwear and she was like, “Why haven’t you been cleaning your underwear in the sink every time you shower?” I had no good answer to that. I guess all Namibians wash their undies when they shower and she thought it was so strange that we didn’t. I cant wait to embarrass myself tomorrow. I washed to dishes today with laundry detergent, and will proceed to do so again in a few minutes.
I just was looking at the Milky way and for once I knew that it was not clouds, but the Milky Way. There are no clouds here during the Winter. Just bright blue skies. I looked in the distance and saw the shapes of the trees and it looks like a you-tube video that I saw of Africa in the States.
Today was a crazy day. I went to the Pentecostal Church with Ndahafa and my little brother Itana. We walked along trails that were hidden and I had no idea where I was going. The trails are all within the brush and I would only go with my host family because otherwise I would get lost. There is trash and glass all along the trails. We don’t have a garbage man or anything like that. People just dump their in the brush in piles. The church was really a house with about 15 people. I was the only Bua or white person (derogatory) there. We sang songs (without any instruments) and then there was a part were there were testimonies. Ndahafa told me that I need to do a testimony, which is just to sing or talk about something you need to talk about. I told her that I was embarrassed and that I didn’t really feel comfortable and then she said, “I know you can sing. Don’t be embarrassed. Sing to the Lord.” So there I was. Stuck in between my comfort zone and what Ndahafa wanted me to do. I felt like if I did sing, then it would help me integrate more into the church community and if I did not then I would be letting my host mother down. (It feels weird to call her mother because she is only 35 but she calls me her daughter.) So I was like, okay here goes nothing.
I stood up in front of 15 people I have not even met, in a black African Pentecostal church, and sang my little heart out haha. I rustled up some gospel choir song and just decided to run with it. “I just can’t give up now. I’ve come too far from where I started from. Nobody told me the road would be easy and I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me.” Then I pulled out some “The storm is passing over,” and forced the others to join me. It wasn’t a major hit but at least I faced a fear and confronted a cultural predicament head on. So then they decided to have me read every that the Pastor was calling upon out loud in English, and then to top it all off, I was asked to say the closing prayer. And what I mean by that is make it up on the spot. It was a bit of a disaster but I tried. Onda Pandula. *I am thankful*
Today I also bought a soccer ball that was N$25 (25 Namibian dollars and it is N$7 to $1 USD.) I actually earn N$25 walk-around allowance a day here, so it was a day’s wage. I brought it back so that Itana (little brother) will hang out with me. Within a half hour, the ball popped. So if anyone wants to send a deflated soccer ball to me, be my guest! It seemed like a good idea at the time. Another back-up plan to connect with Itana was to buy a pack of cards. So far I have been trying to get him to think I am cool by showing him my computer and it works for an hour or so. He does not like to talk much. But today I saw him the happiest I have seen him. I showed Ndahafa my ipod so that she could listen to “Miss Independent” by Ne-Yo, because she got her own thing. She was really interested b/c she had never seen an ipod and she liked it. Then she showed Itana and played that song for him. I went over and showed him that there are many more songs on the ipod. When he saw the list of artists, how to scroll, how to click, his eyes lit up. He had a friend over and they shared the earphones. He kept scrolling and I asked if he had heard of any of the artists and he was smiling so big and said ,“A lot.” He listened to it for like 30 minutes and then we went to church, but for that 30 minutes he was the happiest I had seen him.
Yesterday we went into Windhoek for the first time and went to the mall. It was a really large mall and I was impressed. It felt like it was just as big as Crossgates. Then we went to a place called Heroes’ Acre and it was a beautiful monument. We climbed to the top to a viewing point which revealed the beauty and vastness of Namibia. We also went to a graveyard of many heroes. When will I put up pictures!? How? I got a new cell phone with internet but it is very strange because you have to buy minutes and somehow having my email sucks all the minutes out. I have to get it straightened out. Our language lessons have been going well but the days are long. From 7:30 to 5:30 we have language sessions and cultural sessions. We will start technical training this week which will help me learn more skills for teaching.
I love all the other Peace Corps trainees (PCT’s) and home-life is great too. The food has been very good. The sand porridge is the weirdest thing that I have had to adapt to, and I love eating with my hands. Today she made a feast of cheesy potatoes, pumpkin, spinach, rice, chicken and sauce. It was so delicious. Ndahafa asked me, “How does your mother prepare pumpkin?” and I was like… in a pie at Thanksgiving? They eat it as a side dish and it is so good, I don’t know why we don’t do so more often. I have to do laundry and she has a washing machine, but she is going to teach me how to do so by hand. I told her that most of it is underwear and she was like, “Why haven’t you been cleaning your underwear in the sink every time you shower?” I had no good answer to that. I guess all Namibians wash their undies when they shower and she thought it was so strange that we didn’t. I cant wait to embarrass myself tomorrow. I washed to dishes today with laundry detergent, and will proceed to do so again in a few minutes.
Homestay beginnings
August 25, 2010
So much has happened in such little time. Already the week has gone by, and I am not living with all the PCT’s anymore at the hostel location. I am in my homestay!
But before I get to that, we should review. I climbed the top of a mountain a few days ago, and it was a dry, handsome sight. The actual mountain itself was perfect to climb. The rock did not crumble and the only annoying thing were the thorns. There were nasty thorn trees that would get you if you didn’t pay attention. The air was hard to breathe because here in Namibia, we are already a mile higher than in the US, and when you continue to climb, it takes a toll on the old lungs. You could see flat land for days and mostly sandy savannahs ahead, but for the first time since I got here, I felt like I accomplished something. This summer was rough on me, because I did not feel like I had achieved much. Since I left for the Peace Corps, my hand has been held and I have felt like I was on tour. Especially when I was at the Herero ceremony, I felt like a tourist and out of place. It may have been the fact that there were only African women around me, wearing double pointed hats and full Victorian dresses speaking Otjiherero, but it also could have been the fact that I have been with Americans this whole time. There are Namibian leaders here, but it almost feels like we hired them to give us a tour of Namibia.
I went to the second day of the Herero ceremony and it was very meaningful because we saw the procession of the people and we visited the graves of the Herero chiefs. One of our trainers, Angelica, explained everything to us and introduced us to many Herero people. We went over to another graveyard area across the street and saw other Herero heroes that were buried next to German soldiers that the Herero had killed. It had previously been a graveyard only for the people that attended the Lutheran church (the Germans) but many of the Herero chiefs were buried there. On the tombstones (which looked like they cost a fortune), there were various Christian psalms written along with actual pictures of the leaders. One fact that is cool is that you can not point when you are at a gravesite. You have to bend your finger in and only point with the first knuckle closest to your palm or else it is a bad omen. After that we crossed the street and were all blessed by a Herero leader and touched the graves of the greatest leaders. It was my first true cross-cultural experience that I hadn’t felt like I was a showcase because we were in a small group.
Yesterday, I finally learned my language. The trainers (our teachers during Pre-service Training or PST) made a fun activity and gave all the language trainers an animal and those who were their students the same animal. We counted to three and all had to find each other making noises. I got Oshindonga which means that I will be in the North! That is where 60% of the population is. Knowing our language meant that we finally got placed with our homestay family and so last night I met my homestay “mother”. It turns out that I do not have a traditional family, but who does? I am actually staying with a single, 35 year old woman who takes care of her 12 year old little brother. My host mom teaches first grade at a nearby school and speaks perfect English. She told me that we will not be speaking English in the house, but Oshindonga, which made me very pleased.
Today, I arrived at my house, just about 3-4 hours ago. The woman’s name is Ndahafa and she speaks the same language as me! Many Peace Corps Trainees (PCT’s) do not have families that speak their language so I lucked out. We got home and she lives in a beautiful little place. I have a queen size bed and a nice sized room. Much bigger than whatever Cassie and Alex are living in, I am sure. She and her little brother are sharing her room. They have a full sized fridge, a stove, microwave, and satellite TV! Tonight we watched Gossip Girl while we ate dinner and talked. Haha! But there is a catch that proved that I was in Africa. I came out from packing and saw my little brother on the floor with a bowl of water & cloth to wash our hands with, so I did. Then, we ate with our hands. Dinner consisted of a traditional “porridge”, a chunk of sheep, and sauce on a plate. The porridge had the consistency of play-dough or something and you don’t bite it, because if you do, it feels like sand in your mouth. So you just swallow. The adult starts with the porridge and dips it in the sauce and then the kids can eat it. The adults cut themselves meat but the kids are not allowed any meat until the adults allow it. Her little brother did not eat any meat and I ate a little, although I did not know how to cut it or how to chew the cartilage. I was embarrassed when I put the cartilage back on the plate, because she had finished it but I knew I would not be able to chew it. The brother, Itana, did not eat any meat, but he was our servant. He picked up our dishes once we were done and poured us water when she asked him to. It is something I will have to adjust to. She said he was 12 but he looks like he is eight, he is so small and skinny.
During and after dinner, Ndahafa and I talked all about Namibian and American history, black vs. white relationships at home and here, affirmative action, American TV, and education here. I already got to hear a few stories about her experience with Apartheid, and they are so disturbing. She was about 15 years old when Apartheid ended, so she was taught that she was too stupid to learn math and science at a high school level, and that it was only for whites. It reassures me that I will have a serious role to play here as a science teacher and that hopefully I will make a difference in an African child’s life. I have to go to bed now, because I must get up at 5:45 am. The earliest I have been up so far. Tomorrow is Heroes’ Day, a national holiday in Namibia celebrating all those who fought for independence in this country, and already I feel more connected to Namibian holidays thanks to the few stories that Ndahafa has told me.
So much has happened in such little time. Already the week has gone by, and I am not living with all the PCT’s anymore at the hostel location. I am in my homestay!
But before I get to that, we should review. I climbed the top of a mountain a few days ago, and it was a dry, handsome sight. The actual mountain itself was perfect to climb. The rock did not crumble and the only annoying thing were the thorns. There were nasty thorn trees that would get you if you didn’t pay attention. The air was hard to breathe because here in Namibia, we are already a mile higher than in the US, and when you continue to climb, it takes a toll on the old lungs. You could see flat land for days and mostly sandy savannahs ahead, but for the first time since I got here, I felt like I accomplished something. This summer was rough on me, because I did not feel like I had achieved much. Since I left for the Peace Corps, my hand has been held and I have felt like I was on tour. Especially when I was at the Herero ceremony, I felt like a tourist and out of place. It may have been the fact that there were only African women around me, wearing double pointed hats and full Victorian dresses speaking Otjiherero, but it also could have been the fact that I have been with Americans this whole time. There are Namibian leaders here, but it almost feels like we hired them to give us a tour of Namibia.
I went to the second day of the Herero ceremony and it was very meaningful because we saw the procession of the people and we visited the graves of the Herero chiefs. One of our trainers, Angelica, explained everything to us and introduced us to many Herero people. We went over to another graveyard area across the street and saw other Herero heroes that were buried next to German soldiers that the Herero had killed. It had previously been a graveyard only for the people that attended the Lutheran church (the Germans) but many of the Herero chiefs were buried there. On the tombstones (which looked like they cost a fortune), there were various Christian psalms written along with actual pictures of the leaders. One fact that is cool is that you can not point when you are at a gravesite. You have to bend your finger in and only point with the first knuckle closest to your palm or else it is a bad omen. After that we crossed the street and were all blessed by a Herero leader and touched the graves of the greatest leaders. It was my first true cross-cultural experience that I hadn’t felt like I was a showcase because we were in a small group.
Yesterday, I finally learned my language. The trainers (our teachers during Pre-service Training or PST) made a fun activity and gave all the language trainers an animal and those who were their students the same animal. We counted to three and all had to find each other making noises. I got Oshindonga which means that I will be in the North! That is where 60% of the population is. Knowing our language meant that we finally got placed with our homestay family and so last night I met my homestay “mother”. It turns out that I do not have a traditional family, but who does? I am actually staying with a single, 35 year old woman who takes care of her 12 year old little brother. My host mom teaches first grade at a nearby school and speaks perfect English. She told me that we will not be speaking English in the house, but Oshindonga, which made me very pleased.
Today, I arrived at my house, just about 3-4 hours ago. The woman’s name is Ndahafa and she speaks the same language as me! Many Peace Corps Trainees (PCT’s) do not have families that speak their language so I lucked out. We got home and she lives in a beautiful little place. I have a queen size bed and a nice sized room. Much bigger than whatever Cassie and Alex are living in, I am sure. She and her little brother are sharing her room. They have a full sized fridge, a stove, microwave, and satellite TV! Tonight we watched Gossip Girl while we ate dinner and talked. Haha! But there is a catch that proved that I was in Africa. I came out from packing and saw my little brother on the floor with a bowl of water & cloth to wash our hands with, so I did. Then, we ate with our hands. Dinner consisted of a traditional “porridge”, a chunk of sheep, and sauce on a plate. The porridge had the consistency of play-dough or something and you don’t bite it, because if you do, it feels like sand in your mouth. So you just swallow. The adult starts with the porridge and dips it in the sauce and then the kids can eat it. The adults cut themselves meat but the kids are not allowed any meat until the adults allow it. Her little brother did not eat any meat and I ate a little, although I did not know how to cut it or how to chew the cartilage. I was embarrassed when I put the cartilage back on the plate, because she had finished it but I knew I would not be able to chew it. The brother, Itana, did not eat any meat, but he was our servant. He picked up our dishes once we were done and poured us water when she asked him to. It is something I will have to adjust to. She said he was 12 but he looks like he is eight, he is so small and skinny.
During and after dinner, Ndahafa and I talked all about Namibian and American history, black vs. white relationships at home and here, affirmative action, American TV, and education here. I already got to hear a few stories about her experience with Apartheid, and they are so disturbing. She was about 15 years old when Apartheid ended, so she was taught that she was too stupid to learn math and science at a high school level, and that it was only for whites. It reassures me that I will have a serious role to play here as a science teacher and that hopefully I will make a difference in an African child’s life. I have to go to bed now, because I must get up at 5:45 am. The earliest I have been up so far. Tomorrow is Heroes’ Day, a national holiday in Namibia celebrating all those who fought for independence in this country, and already I feel more connected to Namibian holidays thanks to the few stories that Ndahafa has told me.
Local Traditions
August 20, 2010
The past two days have been quite awesome. I tried mutton for the first time… I think. It could have been goat but I have a feeling that it was mutton. Either way there were many layers of fat with thin slices of meat in between and it was quite foul. I have been trying to be flexible with the meat eating and I admit I am getting better. Ground up meat is hardly terrifying now like it was 3 days ago. Probably because they serve it three times a day. My digestive system has felt good so far but it hasn’t been real Namibian food exactly yet.
In the mornings we have had sessions on various things but my favorite is in the beginning when our staff will sometimes sing us traditional songs and chants. We sing it with them because we have the words. It is then when I start to feel like I am really here. They sing their national anthem and we sing ours, symbolizing our partnership. It’s a nice start to the day.
We are waiting to hear what language we learn. We had to do an interview process about where we want to be placed which was very surprising to me. They give you a packet so you can express your interests and concerns such as whether you prefer water or not, electricity or not, isolated/rural/peri-rural/urban, and then hand it in during the interview. The interview focused on you as a person and your preferences of sites. I decided to pick one with no electricity in the home but at school, although I am not sure I will get that one. Altogether I could not go wrong with the science housing for some reason. We got some pretty great choices. All except that one have electricity and water, and the farthest one was 200 km away from a town. I specified that the only thing I really wanted was a homestead. A homestead has a something like a separate hut for the volunteer and then a community hut and kitchen hut, etc. They can differ though, to being a nice western-style home. So everything is really up in the air. I am learning to be patient to hear where to go already! I find out the language at least on Monday which is relieving.
Today we went to a Herero War Memorial event. It was in honor of the Herero men who died during the war against the Germans. Apparently during colonization the Germans were trying to take over Herero land and they resisted. So the Germans ordered that any Herero seen should be killed so that the Herero race be exterminated. Sound familiar? Anyway half of the Herero people were wiped out and the other half retreated to Angola, Botswana, and South Africa. The ceremony is a memorial to the chiefs who died as well as the men. The Herero people are really astounding. The women wear full Victorian dress and a hat on their hat that has two horns symbolizing the significance of cattle in their culture. I had a really strange moment when I was in a typical cheap clothing store like Target called “Pep”. It was pseudo-air conditioned and there were all Namibian people in there. Many were looking at me standing there with my new Indian-American friend because they knew we were outsiders. Then I looked behind the counter and all the cashiers were Herero women, in full Victorian garb with their hats, handing over change and I was like, am I having a vivid malaria-medication -induced dream or is this Africa? Where am I?The ceremony was really cool. They took all these stones and put them in a huge square to give the impression of a fort. There was a place in the middle called the “sacred fire” and our guide, who will be one of our language trainers named Angelica (I think) and is Herero, told us to watch the demonstration. She knelt before a man wearing an old military outfit, he sipped some water and then spat it all over her. Apparently they do that so they can tell the ancestors that she arrived at the ceremony. We also watched about 30 younger boys doing a military march which definitely had some swagger. Haha it is hard to explain in writing, but it was pretty incredible. There were also men in military garb on horses that would circle the encampment in the middle of the “fort”. Finally we got to watch a traditional song and dance they do at this memorial. There were about five Herero women singing and clapping (we clapped too) and one of them had a board attached to their foot like a snow shoe and would hit the board at certain moments. I am sure it would have been very moving if we understood what they were saying.
Once we left, we went into town and it was nice talking to a few cute kids. I’m looking forward to teaching altho I don’t know what language or site. We then went and got a beer for the first time at a place called Rhinos. We tried the Camelthorn which was fabulous and was made in the capital. Camelthorn and Windhoek Lager are the best beers here so far, which I know you guys will need to know when you visit me. We learned a lot about the trouble with alcoholism here. It seems to be two extremes, either you drink a lot or not at all with no in between. I guess a lot of people are unemployed and spend most of their time buying booze and drinking all day. It is a real problem in Namibia and so I won’t be having a causal drink with my family, because I do not want to be looked at like I’m a “drinker”.
Tomorrow we go back to the Herero ceremony. It will be my first Sunday here, which in the future will matter more. Because most of the country is Christian, we will have the opportunity to go to church with our host families on Sundays. Here church can last up to 3 hours or so, but it is great community building and I want to see what is like. We leave for our homestays, which is when we live with a host family in their house for six weeks, I believe on Tuesday. I’ll catch you up on more then!
The past two days have been quite awesome. I tried mutton for the first time… I think. It could have been goat but I have a feeling that it was mutton. Either way there were many layers of fat with thin slices of meat in between and it was quite foul. I have been trying to be flexible with the meat eating and I admit I am getting better. Ground up meat is hardly terrifying now like it was 3 days ago. Probably because they serve it three times a day. My digestive system has felt good so far but it hasn’t been real Namibian food exactly yet.
In the mornings we have had sessions on various things but my favorite is in the beginning when our staff will sometimes sing us traditional songs and chants. We sing it with them because we have the words. It is then when I start to feel like I am really here. They sing their national anthem and we sing ours, symbolizing our partnership. It’s a nice start to the day.
We are waiting to hear what language we learn. We had to do an interview process about where we want to be placed which was very surprising to me. They give you a packet so you can express your interests and concerns such as whether you prefer water or not, electricity or not, isolated/rural/peri-rural/urban, and then hand it in during the interview. The interview focused on you as a person and your preferences of sites. I decided to pick one with no electricity in the home but at school, although I am not sure I will get that one. Altogether I could not go wrong with the science housing for some reason. We got some pretty great choices. All except that one have electricity and water, and the farthest one was 200 km away from a town. I specified that the only thing I really wanted was a homestead. A homestead has a something like a separate hut for the volunteer and then a community hut and kitchen hut, etc. They can differ though, to being a nice western-style home. So everything is really up in the air. I am learning to be patient to hear where to go already! I find out the language at least on Monday which is relieving.
Today we went to a Herero War Memorial event. It was in honor of the Herero men who died during the war against the Germans. Apparently during colonization the Germans were trying to take over Herero land and they resisted. So the Germans ordered that any Herero seen should be killed so that the Herero race be exterminated. Sound familiar? Anyway half of the Herero people were wiped out and the other half retreated to Angola, Botswana, and South Africa. The ceremony is a memorial to the chiefs who died as well as the men. The Herero people are really astounding. The women wear full Victorian dress and a hat on their hat that has two horns symbolizing the significance of cattle in their culture. I had a really strange moment when I was in a typical cheap clothing store like Target called “Pep”. It was pseudo-air conditioned and there were all Namibian people in there. Many were looking at me standing there with my new Indian-American friend because they knew we were outsiders. Then I looked behind the counter and all the cashiers were Herero women, in full Victorian garb with their hats, handing over change and I was like, am I having a vivid malaria-medication -induced dream or is this Africa? Where am I?The ceremony was really cool. They took all these stones and put them in a huge square to give the impression of a fort. There was a place in the middle called the “sacred fire” and our guide, who will be one of our language trainers named Angelica (I think) and is Herero, told us to watch the demonstration. She knelt before a man wearing an old military outfit, he sipped some water and then spat it all over her. Apparently they do that so they can tell the ancestors that she arrived at the ceremony. We also watched about 30 younger boys doing a military march which definitely had some swagger. Haha it is hard to explain in writing, but it was pretty incredible. There were also men in military garb on horses that would circle the encampment in the middle of the “fort”. Finally we got to watch a traditional song and dance they do at this memorial. There were about five Herero women singing and clapping (we clapped too) and one of them had a board attached to their foot like a snow shoe and would hit the board at certain moments. I am sure it would have been very moving if we understood what they were saying.
Once we left, we went into town and it was nice talking to a few cute kids. I’m looking forward to teaching altho I don’t know what language or site. We then went and got a beer for the first time at a place called Rhinos. We tried the Camelthorn which was fabulous and was made in the capital. Camelthorn and Windhoek Lager are the best beers here so far, which I know you guys will need to know when you visit me. We learned a lot about the trouble with alcoholism here. It seems to be two extremes, either you drink a lot or not at all with no in between. I guess a lot of people are unemployed and spend most of their time buying booze and drinking all day. It is a real problem in Namibia and so I won’t be having a causal drink with my family, because I do not want to be looked at like I’m a “drinker”.
Tomorrow we go back to the Herero ceremony. It will be my first Sunday here, which in the future will matter more. Because most of the country is Christian, we will have the opportunity to go to church with our host families on Sundays. Here church can last up to 3 hours or so, but it is great community building and I want to see what is like. We leave for our homestays, which is when we live with a host family in their house for six weeks, I believe on Tuesday. I’ll catch you up on more then!
Finally arriving...
August 19, 2010
I made it! I am in Namibia outside its capital! After a grueling 33 hours of traveling starting from the departure in Philly to here, I was so exhausted. I had to change into formal clothes at Johannesburg and I was so annoyed. I am like, seriously? After traveling for like 29 hours at that point you want me to look professional when I arrive? I felt like the Peace Corps is picking me up and should not expect us to look like business people. But here in Namibia, the way you dress is an expression of your respect for other people. Unlike in America, where how you dress is an expression of your individuality, in Namibia the way you dress is an expression of your respect for other people. So I got off the plane and finally into the hot, stuffy bus to go to this hostel-like place. Gasping for fresh air as I step off the bus, I hear the most beautiful voices singing in harmony. I start jogging over and see about 20 Namibian staff singing traditional African chants exactly the way it sounds in the Lion King or in African music you could buy. It was so moving I began to cry. This dream is becoming real.
On the bus from Windhoek to here, people saw wild baboons and wild giraffes! I never saw them because I was fast asleep but I’m sure it was awesome. The place we are staying at is really nice. I am now sitting on my bed underneath a mosquito net like a princess in a canopy, but there are no mosquitoes because it is winter. They tell us to do it anyway. It is briskly cold outside. The temperature really drops and rises here. I love it. Nice and cold at night and warm during the day. We have not learned too much about much besides safety and security. We don’t know where we will be assigned but we have interviews about our preferences. I have decided to say that I would like no electricity and running water. This to me is ideal, because the school has electricity so I would be able to charge my things and still use them, all while getting the real experience. If I end up with electricity, it won’t be so bad. A lot of the schools are looking for sports coaches which really excites me too. And they are looking for HIV/AIDS prevention educators! And some for gender issue educators! All things that I can’t wait to start doing. It is all so far away though. For instance I have to learn a new language first. Oh, also I have to find out what language I’m going to be learning and meet my host family, and the list goes on.
For now, I can’t seem to contain my excitement. The savannah is pretty barren and dead looking right now but it is unique. There is also beauty in the full -fledged, bright blue peacock cawing outside my door.
I made it! I am in Namibia outside its capital! After a grueling 33 hours of traveling starting from the departure in Philly to here, I was so exhausted. I had to change into formal clothes at Johannesburg and I was so annoyed. I am like, seriously? After traveling for like 29 hours at that point you want me to look professional when I arrive? I felt like the Peace Corps is picking me up and should not expect us to look like business people. But here in Namibia, the way you dress is an expression of your respect for other people. Unlike in America, where how you dress is an expression of your individuality, in Namibia the way you dress is an expression of your respect for other people. So I got off the plane and finally into the hot, stuffy bus to go to this hostel-like place. Gasping for fresh air as I step off the bus, I hear the most beautiful voices singing in harmony. I start jogging over and see about 20 Namibian staff singing traditional African chants exactly the way it sounds in the Lion King or in African music you could buy. It was so moving I began to cry. This dream is becoming real.
On the bus from Windhoek to here, people saw wild baboons and wild giraffes! I never saw them because I was fast asleep but I’m sure it was awesome. The place we are staying at is really nice. I am now sitting on my bed underneath a mosquito net like a princess in a canopy, but there are no mosquitoes because it is winter. They tell us to do it anyway. It is briskly cold outside. The temperature really drops and rises here. I love it. Nice and cold at night and warm during the day. We have not learned too much about much besides safety and security. We don’t know where we will be assigned but we have interviews about our preferences. I have decided to say that I would like no electricity and running water. This to me is ideal, because the school has electricity so I would be able to charge my things and still use them, all while getting the real experience. If I end up with electricity, it won’t be so bad. A lot of the schools are looking for sports coaches which really excites me too. And they are looking for HIV/AIDS prevention educators! And some for gender issue educators! All things that I can’t wait to start doing. It is all so far away though. For instance I have to learn a new language first. Oh, also I have to find out what language I’m going to be learning and meet my host family, and the list goes on.
For now, I can’t seem to contain my excitement. The savannah is pretty barren and dead looking right now but it is unique. There is also beauty in the full -fledged, bright blue peacock cawing outside my door.
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