Some words are light

January 22, 2008

I’ve given up trying to get the water any color but grey when I rinse my laundry. And, I found out I like running… but only down hills…

I haven’t been writing the past week for two reasons. 1) I’m pretty sure someone stole a couple of hours from each of my days and 2) I’m a little embarrassed that I haven’t started teaching yet.
Last week was the first week of school. Monday was a cluster (district) meeting. I think I wrote about that one already. We got a pep talk. This past year the Kunene schools jumped from 13th, last, to 5th. The Khorixas cluster scores, however, remained the same. This means that we did not contribute to the 8-place jump. Our pep talk was shape up or… shape up. I was told to arrive for this meeting at 8 in the morning. When I arrived at 8, the secretary was there to point me in the right direction and a social studies teacher was there to offer me a chair outside of the meeting room. The social studies teacher and I then proceeded to sit there until 10:30, when everyone else showed up (including the colleague who told me eight). Wrong time, you may guess? The agenda they handed out when we all finally sat down – “Khorixas Cluster Meeting. 14 January 2008. 8:00 am”. Welcome to Namibia.
Tuesday was registration. I’m sure I wrote about that. Still a conundrum. Wednesday was the first day learners were in classes. In class, they corrected the spelling and information on roll call, dusted their desks and harassed the new American teacher. Really, it was just one who seems like he’s going to be trouble. I was given grade 7A to entertain for the day. We read a lot of stories, hoping it would get them used to the accent so I wouldn’t have to talk as slow when teaching actually started. Then we had silent reading time. It was a long day but a good one overall. Thursday, they changed the lock on the library and gave me a key! Woot! A few cleaning supplies later, I’ve got all of the book donations unpacked and dusted. These are the books for the kids in the hostel. I want to use them for an after school reading program… but that feels a little too ambitious right now (Maybe, after I actually start teaching). Also in the library is a closet full of old papers and posters. I know you all have the wrong idea of Namibia because I have running water, electricity, a gas stove and a phone that can get me on facebook, but you have to realize, this is still Africa and that much paper in one room is like a gold mine. I spent part of Thursday going through the boxes of old AIDS posters (seemingly, an ineffective way to educate against the epidemic – just judging by how new the posters are, the lame slogans and the 3 inches of dust on the box) to look for ones with clean white backs I can write on. I had enough that I decided to make a poster for the library. I wanted to write a poem because I have a feeling knowledge about poetry isn’t that widespread in Khorixas. I would’ve written one of my own but I’m a shy poet. So, I pulled the only poetry book off the shelf and found this gem:

Feelings About Word
By. Mary O’Neill

Some words clink
As ice in a drink.
Some move with grace
A dance, a lace.
Some sound thin
Wall, scream and pin.
Some words are squat:
A mug, a pot.
And some are plump:
Fat, round and dump.
Some words are light:
Drift, lift and bright.
A few are small:
A, is and all.
And some are thick
Glue, paste and brick.
Some are sad:
“I never had…”
Some are gay:
Joy, spin and play.
And some words cry,
“Goodbye… Goodbye.”

I’m not really sure why I shared that with you, but I am sure it’ll make you a better person in the long run.
Friday, I spent about an hour at school before I left for the weekend. I let my counterpart and supervisor know that I had plans to go to Okakarara on Friday for a friend’s birthday. I was planning on leaving after school but they came into the library on Friday morning to tell me they had called a taxi and it would be there in an hour. Sweet! Permission to skip work and a ride! More about the weekend a little later, though.
Monday, the kids finally got last year’s timetable (schedule of classes). Currently, they’re making the new timetable to include me and Natural Science (or so they say). Since they are using an old timetable, I am the only teacher without a class. So, I trudged, dejectedly, to the library again. The only thing I have left to do in the library is re-shelf all of the books because they’re all out of order. But, I don’t want to do an overhaul like that yet. Instead, I remade a few labels, hung some posters, (and I can’t lie) worked on my personal budget and surfed facebook (Hey, I’m there from 7:00 – 1:30 by myself.).
Today has been more of the same. I remade the Feelings About Words poster for Jill, the Health PCV in Khorixas, to hang in her apartment. She’s a writer and I know she would appreciate such fine workmanship. Plus, I chose a particularly special Anti-AIDS poster to draw on the back of (I feel like there’s got to be a better way to educate the general public about AIDS. I can’t think of what it is. At least they’re trying something, I guess). Also, this afternoon, I’m coaching track. Don’t be so shocked… well, ok, you can be shocked. I didn’t volunteer to run with the kids; I was just standing in the wrong place when all the other teachers decided they didn’t want to… Personally, I don’t think it’s fair to play “not it” in Damara if not everyone speaks Damara.
The upper primary kids were divided into two teams – the Kudus and the Orics. I get to train the Kudus. Poor kids. This afternoon is the first official (if there is such a thing in Namibia) practice. Then, at the beginning of February the Orics and Kudus will compete to see who gets to go to the Khorixas cluster competition, then to the Kunene regional competition. I’m still not sure what’s involved in these competitions but I’m assuming a lot of running because there’s no equipment for anything else. Either way, I think the kids who run without shoes should get seconds taken off of their time.
That about sums up life at school. Just add super awkward tea breaks where I don’t understand a word for half an hour, a bell that sounds like a fire alarm, the sweetest cleaning crew on the planet and hiding in a dusty library closet so no one knows you don’t so anything for six and a half hours and you’ve got the starting-work-in-Africa experience in a bottle.
Outside of school has been a roller coaster. I prefer to think that it’s my circumstances and surroundings that change so often because otherwise, I’m a bi-polar train wreck. I’m pretty sure I mentioned the cooking and baking that’s taken over my life. I don’t think I’ve gotten any better, my standard have just getting lower. Monday-Wednesday I was settling in, cooking and taking walking tours of Khorixas. Thursday night I started packing for my weekend in Okakarara. Since I am still unsure about who has keys to my room and what little kid is going to be walking through, this also involved cleaning my room and locking up anything valuable.
I had to take out my trash too. Now, let me just preface this story with a few things. First, don’t try this at home. Second, I burned my trash through all of CBT and shadowing successfully. And, Third, I are a college grad-ge-ate… So, you’re probably wondering by now. I took my bag of trash out to the can but you can’t leave trash outside in the can because people will go through it and scatter it. Residents solve this problem by burning their trash. Or, in semi-urban settings, like Khorixas, they just don’t put their trash out until the morning it’s going to be picked up (Monday). But, when you’re on a cleaning spree, why wait? So, I put my trash out and, as I have done before (I promise) I lit it on fire. There was just one problem with this foolproof plan and that was: our trashcan is plastic… I know all you scholars out there are wondering how I didn’t foresee the huge flames that engulfed the entire trashcan and melted it to the pavement and, honestly, I have no idea why I didn’t. Just know I was lulled into a false sense of security by the metal lid and handles. Never assume anything in Africa - Of course the sides were plastic. Why not? So, after my tiny bag of trash had started a neighborhood bonfire, I ran inside to get water to put out the flames. But, welcome to the roller coaster, our kitchen had a flood earlier in the day and we had turned the water off. Luckily, the teakettle and a pot on the stove were full. I ran those outside and used a combination of water and sand to put out the fire. About the time I got the flame down to a manageable smolder my housemate’s car alarm starts going off. Within seconds, I’ve got an audience consisting of a just-woken-up British VSO, a street kid and a dog I think is rabid. Also about that time, a freak rainstorm finished putting out the fire (I couldn’t make stuff like this up if I tried). Personally, I think the scene was pretty self-explanatory: me, drenched, holding a teakettle, standing next to a melted trashcan. Nonetheless, I explained myself the best I could to my housemate as she was turning off her car alarm and then went inside to finish packing. The next morning I woke up early (4:45. Normally I wake up at 5) to scrape the plastic off the pavement… along with my pride.
When I got to school my colleagues had called the taxi so I gathered my bags and took a turn by the hospital to pick up Jill. After a half hour tour in the location as the taxi driver ran errands, we left for Outjo. In Outjo, we picked up another NAM 27er and headed for Otjiwarongo. Super Spar stop! We bought coffee and garlic bread and continued to Okakarara (detailed trip schedule for dad – Google Earth it!).
It was rainy and dreary when we got to Okakarara. And I loved it! There are two PCVs in Okakarara and four who live outside. When all of us had arrived we went to the local restaurant to relax and recover from our respective taxi rides. That evening we made pizza, enjoyed free SMS Friday and played Outburst. It was a great evening, except (roller coaster) the oven exploded in the birthday girl’s face. Luckily, her eyebrows, her primary concern, were still intact (mostly). Her right arm and face only looked sunburned but her right hand was covered in blisters. Her solution? Drink a lot of Vodka. Peace Corps? Hard Core.
The next morning we hired two taxis. They were both VW Rabbits and we practiced our clown car skills out to Waterburg Plateau. Waterburg is a nature reserve between Otjiwarongo and Okakarara and it’s beautiful. When we first arrived, the tour guides told us about game drives. It sounded tempting but we were shut down at the N$350/person price tag. We opted for a walking tour instead. About ten minutes later, two were covered in mud, four were annoyed at the mosquitoes, one was distracted by the German tourists and Sabrina and I were the only ones actually interested in the first stop, a German cemetery. My pondering the cemetery (and what, in 1904, made 22-year old Fritz decide to come to Namibia. And did he know he would die there… hmmm) was interrupted by The Plan. The Plan was to flirt with the rangers until we got a better price on the game drive. Clearly, this was not my area of expertise, so I waited outside. I did see through the window that the blister, burned hand was hidden away during haggling – hmm, maybe a technique I’ll have to keep in mind. The Plan was successful and we got a 50% discount.
When our safari vehicle arrived it was equipped with two quirky tour guides who claimed they had only been working at the park for two days… a joke, I think, but after a whole afternoon with them, I’m still not entirely convinced they didn’t just highjack the vehicle and decide to give tours that day.
The vehicle was an open-air truck. With the rain, the first couple minutes of the trip were spent convincing ourselves that the cold was a welcome change. Then, seemingly from nowhere, our self-claimed novice guides pull out these fleece-lined heaven-sent ponchos. My day was suddenly the best on the planet (roller coaster). I found a bag of peanuts in my bag and sat back for a beautiful ride with friends.
Along the way, we stopped at two hides surrounding a watering hole. We didn’t have any luck. The only animals we saw were butterflies, a chameleon, springbok, a stomach left over from a lion kill, beetles eating the stomach left over from the lion kill and a domestic buffalo (A cow. I told you they were quirky). The whole trip put us in high spirits anyway. At the end it also turned out one of the guides was the cook. So, when we got back to the main part of the park he opened the restaurant for us. The birthday girl’s mom sent money to pay for our dinner… and… it… was… fabulous!!
After dinner (with an amazing view of the plateau and deciding Brad and Angelina probably rented out the whole place) our taxis came to pick us up. We made it back to the house safely and our resident chef (chemist = chef) made a birthday cake. The evening was quiet and relaxing. In the morning the three of us from the West (Outjo and Khorixas) caught a taxi to Super Spar. After we had acquired 50 extra pounds of canned tuna, five different blocks of cheese and some spices, we continued on our way home. By the time I got to back to Khorixas I was slightly miffed (roller coaster). On the way home, our taxi almost ran out of gas. The gaslight was on with 65Km to go. Apparently, the approved solution for this is to drive at 80km/hour, which, in the middle of nowhere, feels like I could run faster (but only downhill :) ). I stopped looking at the clock but I’m pretty sure it took us about two to two and half hours to from Outjo. The entire time, Jill and I SMSed about the coming predicament – running out of gas in the textbook description of “nowhere”. Anytime something bad is about to happen in PC Namibia, you have the consolation that you may become a scenario to train the next group. So, we imagined our little transportation nightmare typed on a 1/2 sheet of paper with 15 NAM 28ers sitting around discussing it. And, I’m sure, their conclusion would be a brilliant revelations like, “just don’t get in the car in the first place.” Which all sounded great when I was staring at my slip of paper… but in real life, in the middle of nowhere, it doesn’t always fly. But, it was not our time for fame and we made it back to Khorixas safely. Thank goodness! …and gas.


January 23, 2008
Today was a good day. I think. I’m at least due for a good day anyway. Monday and Tuesday I was super homesick. I know home is safely waiting for me. But I think homesickness is encouraged by frustration at the problems (real and imagined) I deal with here and wishing I could just leave them. I know at home I wouldn’t have to deal it. But we call that quitting and I’m not fond of it. Peace Corps Namibia is what we like to call a “challenge by choice” (thanks Tilikum, for the terminology) and sometimes I’m not entirely sure why I keep choosing it. The good news is: I survived Monday and Tuesday and today has been better.
I am still not teaching. But, today I met with my supervisor. She explained a little more about the school and some the learner’s reaction to me. It was really helpful, if, for no other reason, to at least remind me that they know I’m here. Also, the timetable is in the works (I saw it with my own eyes so I know it exists). Right now, the plan is for me to start teaching 6A and 6B Math (I think they feel uneasy about this because I tried to find 70 percent of 39 today and got it wrong… it was the 7 times 9 that got me… 63, I know, I know, but I had just got done running around in the sun with the kids) and 7A and 7B Natural Science on Friday. With the way things are going, it’ll probably be Thursday instead. Living here is all about patience and being on your toes – seems like opposites, neh?
Track practice has been fun these past two days. The kids like to make fun of my accent. It was a little annoying at first so I made a game out of it. They have to repeat after me in their best American accents (which are actually terrible but make them giggle). Words they think sound particularly silly are “lower”, “raise”, “ok” and “good job”. I believe in Namibia they say “low-ah”, rolled “r” for raise, “ow-kay” and… I’m not sure why “good job” is funny… maybe it’s just not said enough around here.
Jill joined me today for practice. I was really grateful. I have enough knowledge to fake a track practice but Jill was actually in track so she’s got some real exercises. We had them doing high knees, butt kicks, lunges and walking on toes out to a tire and then they had to sprint back. They were over-enthusiastic and sprinted in both directions no matter how many times I told them otherwise. So, on the lunge round I went with all five teams out to the tire and sprinted back. Then, oddly, I decided to run their final laps with them… at three in the afternoon, in a desert. I’m such a white girl – I have to wear shoes and I think the desert is hot. The cleaning ladies were a little concerned about my health and red face afterwards (as I was multiplying 39 by 0.7) but I assured them it was normal.
When I got home, as per a young single person’s prerogative, I decided cookies were for dinner. Yum – especially with the cocoa powder I got at Spar. While the cookies were cooling I went on a hike in my backyard. So great and so Africa. I live on the edge of town (the opposite edge of Khorixas from the school where I work. Just FYI), so out back is a hill with a cell phone tower. The hill is probably half the size as McDonald forest loop 36 minus pine trees, mud and pups. The top is a great view and a cool wind. I like to call it the Khorixas escape route (I’ve been up there three times since I’ve been at site. I’m going to have to start exploring other hills around. Heaven knows there are enough to climb around here).
When I got back, I had my cookies for dinner, a lukewarm shower and a few styling from the Cranberries. An alright day all around, I suppose.


January 26, 2008
Yesterday was the last free SMS Friday *sad face*. I think I’ll survive though. I got a Christmas tree in the mail (thanks Heather). Facebook hasn’t been down all week. Sweet! And, I’m going to a mopping party at Jill’s house in a few minutes. She doesn’t know how to mop and, with the vast amounts of empty floor space available in PC housing (due to lack of furniture), it is extremely important. Some kids from Khorixas offered to help (they are sympathetic to American weirdness because they had the two previous PCVs as teachers in their Secondary school).
Yesterday was the semi-first day of teaching. I taught my math classes but the science ones were interrupted by a meeting… in the middle of school? Math went over really well, though. The kids got a kick out of the slow-down-you’re-talking-too-fast-and-I-don’t-understand-you thumbs down I taught them. I told them a story about flying from America to Namibia. Progressively, I would talk faster and faster until they would all throw the thumbs down when they couldn’t understand anymore. I don’t think they get to tell teachers what to do often… probably not a good way to start off the year but whatever doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?
I tried scones again this morning. They keep coming out squishy. If anyone knows how to get them flaky let me know. Random request, I know. Well, I’ve got a mop and bucket calling my name. I love hearing what you all are up to – Facebook messages work best but email works a lot also.

January 27, 2008
Well, I thought I was posting yesterday but I didn’t get a chance to yet. It’s ok though because if I had posted I would have to wait a really long time to tell you about my amazing day today. Actually, most of it was pretty terrible.
I woke up this morning to a mean case of homesick and a power outage. It had rained last night and had caused the power to go out. Since the morning was cloudy and there was nothing to do at home I decided it would be a good morning for a hike. Little did I realize that cloudy, raining weather in Khorixas is like dumping a bucket of water on Hell. I was dying halfway up the hill I had decided to explore. I may be exaggerating, but I think it was worse than a Louisiana summer. By the time I got home I was looking forward to the cold shower that I usually dread but the water was out. I think it wanted to steal Electricity’s thunder. I was going to SMS Jill to see if the location was having similar problems but I was out of Tango (phone minutes) and, about that time, my phone battery died anyway. Sheesh. How am I supposed to cope in Africa, without any coping mechanisms? Luckily, my ipod still had some juice, though one side of my headphones had gotten squished in my lock box. So, I put the good side of the headphones in and some still functioning pieces of the other side. It looked a little silly but it got the job done.
In the afternoon, the power and water came on at about the same time (I think it’s a conspiracy to make me think I’m bi-polar). It was just in time to get a SMS from Jill inviting me to hang out in the donkerhoek (squatter’s camp). The SCORE volunteer in town takes soccer balls over there every weekend. The basic plan is just to wander in and look for kids… and sure enough, the kids come. Everyone gets to play. The teenagers started a serious soccer game, with shoes outlining the goals. Some younger ones started a game of catch and “tegu te” (I’m not sure how it’s spelled, or said really, but it’s similar to duck duck goose). Then, they decided to switch to net ball. Net ball is like basketball but you don’t bounce the ball. Jill and I found a purpose during all this as the nets. We held out our arms anytime a team came near to make a basket. The faces that you make when you’re a net, I think, have got to be priceless. I was thinking my nose was not going to make it out of the net ball game intact. But it’s fine… This could be because my team lost miserably and, consequently, made fewer threats on my face. Down time during my net experience was spent convincing some little boys that my thumb was detachable. I have never seen so much awe and wonder and the thumb removal trick. I think kids in the States have lost their awe… or I’m just less able to trick them.
When we left the donkerhoek it was about to rain again but I felt pretty good about life in general. If nothing else, at least I discovered a new coping mechanism. Who knew it would be hanging out and playing with kids who never have electricity and water. Which is good to think about tonight as I work on my lesson plans to the tune of thunderstorm and the glow of candlelight. That’s right, the power’s back off. But, don’t be grossed out, the water came back on long enough for me to get a shower.