Bing-a-ling

I'm just walking my beat... Namibia's my beat and I'm walking it :)


My host mom and dad at the appreciation dinner.

Modal school. I'm on the left in the green (to the right of the PCT with the black shirt and head scarf). Bat boy is just in front of me and one to the left (in front of the PCT with the pink shirt)(he looks a lot more scary in this picture than he really is).

Me teaching some learners how to take self portraits.

The nine PCTs in The Bing! Christmas Eve in the grade 7 classroom.

Well. These are some thoughts from the past month... These are some un-proof-read thoughts from the past month. I hope you won't judge me... I can usually spell. Um, usually.


December 7, 2007
Every Friday in December and January is free SMS Friday. SMSes are text messages with MTC (my phone company here). You can message anyone in Namibia for free all day Friday. Well, you can imagine the frenzy this causes. And it is only multiplied by 10 between technology starved Americans. We send SMSes across the classroom, from the front seat of a taxi to the back seat or even play SMS tag…. We send them anywhere! Today, the name of the game was lame pick-up lines Namibian style (Actual Namibian pick up lines usually go something like “Marry me” and “Take me to America” and similar such romantic ideas) (Ours were much more unrealistic… but hilarious) (to us…).
I got an SMS pick-up line from a fellow trainee friend this morning that I thought was funny. I shared it with my friends who all thought it was equally funny. I said something about saving it for my blog… but luckly, my fellow trainees stopped to reason with me. They said I couldn’t send it to the states. They said there was no way it would make any sense in the states even with half an hour of explanation and so on.
But, alas, I will attempt the explanation. You must realize, however, that this will suck all hilarity out of the situation… but here it goes:
- People eat goat here. A lot.
- People eat all parts of the goat.
- Goat heads are the most valuable part.
- Goat heads are put in a pot of boiling water to cook them.
- As goat heads boil, the skin shrinks back and reveals the teeth.
- Since the goat’s teeth show after cooking they call cooked goat heads “smileys” because they look like they’re smiling.

You’ve got to be wondering how this relates to a pick-up line by now… and with the proper background, you are ready for the lame pick-up line SMS:

“If you were a goat I would put your head in a pot and boil you just to see your smile.”

See, funny, right?

Contrary to popular belief and logic, all of this is not to educate you on the shrinking skin dynamics of goats but is really an odd attempt to appreciate you for reading about my adventures in Namibia. I realized that the longer I spend in seemingly absurd situations, the more confusing I sound. Hopefully, by explaining some things… like goat heads… I’ll sound a little less crazy in the long run.

It’s working, right? Sanity is the first thing that came to mind when you read this post, yes?



December 9, 2007
A fuzzy puppy just pounced on my foot. And I’m starting to like (read: tolerate) instant coffee. It’s been a good day.

Last Tuesday, we met our host families. We will be staying with these families for one short month (during modal school). I am staying with a Lutheran Pastor in the small village, Otjimbingwe (we call it The Bing). The house is very very nice and big, by African standards. My room is decorated with dolphins and blue. All blue. Everywhere. It makes me laugh. In the house there is also my host mother, her two daughters, two nieces, two sons, one guard dog (Shakira) and four puppies. Tomorrow, though, all but the oldest son and father will travel to the farm for Christmas. The remaining three of us have been charges with protecting the house from theft over the holiday. A noble cause, I suppose, but it makes for a quiet Christmas.
Most of the kids (teenage girls mostly) were nice to me. They were very cautious of me at first and spent a lot of tome whispering. Today, though, they would wander into my room to ask me for my phone number, my sister’s name (the only one brother thing is a shocker to everyone) or how my school prep was going. I’m not sure if those are friendship questions but I felt better about the whole situation. Then it was time for Christmas. Most of the gifts I brought for the host family were pink. This was problematic seeing how all potential pink-lovers are leaving. I gave the girls some hair-ties (good for school uniforms according to mom), a purse, heart socks, a coin pouch, barrettes, and, of course, Tilikum carabineers. I let them duke it our as to who got what. Today, I also received free access to the kitchen. Sweet! “Be creative,” they said, “you must cook for yourself.” To an over-independent kid like me this was great news. So, off to the kitchen I trot to be creative. Apparently, this meant be creative tomorrow, though… fish is on the stove right now and I wasn’t the one to start it.
This will be the 5th night at homestay and things are going pretty well but they didn’t start out that way. On Tuesday night, I ate the wrong part of the goat, got laughed at and put my self in my room for the night to cry and text my mom (thank God for technology). Wednesday was much better because I could focus on modal school. I got to spend the morning with the 8th grade class. They basically threw me in a classroom and said get their names and ages and dismiss them in two hours… Distracting kids? I’m trained in that. I started out with the line up log… without the log. They had to get themselves in alphabetical order without speaking. I though it would be too easy for them. But it wasn’t. And nobody knew what to do with names that started with clicks. So, we downgraded to a spelling and math bee. The kids were so competitive (the good kind)(it was cute). I was also joined by one of our TRC (teaching Resource Center) Trainees. She drives in every day from Omaruru to work with us. She thinks we’re the best modal school. Mostly because we are… She’s a retired teacher from the Southern US. It’s been a lot of fun to work with her.
After we dismissed the kids, we started planning more for modal school. Basically, “planning” means constructing from scratch. Luckily, I’m working with 8 PCT girls from the states with no experience, lots of opinions and good old-fashioned American work ethics. It turns out I will be teaching grade 7 Natural Science, grade 8 Maths, and grade 10 Physics for the next three weeks. I am very excited about all of my classes (even though vectors are still a little fuzzy in my memory).
After our first day at work our language lesson for the afternoon was cancelled. All of us were still skeptical of the homestay situation so we got cooldrinks (it is one word and encompasses all drinks except alcohol) from the only store in the village – they sold out after the nine of us left. Then we escaped down to the riverbed to hide with the goats.
All that to say, I made it through the week and I am feeling more and more comfortable in my host family’s house (minus occasional cow heads in the kitchen sink). I think shopping with my host mom yesterday for some groceries and making tea and watching the news every night with the family has helped a bit. I also learned that “you must learn Nama [KK]” means “we wish you could hang out and be more relaxed” not “you suck because you can’t figure out our secret code”. I’m sure that sounds obvious to you rational-thinkers at home but it took me a few days to figure out… and. I think the paranoid side-effects of the Mefloquine is kicking in… or maybe that’s just me being paranoid…
I have so many more things to write about – like, my lesson plans, being addicted to cell phone facebook, and stories about quirky trainers with gold teeth who try to help you hang up you moss-quite-o’s (mosquito) net and get lost in your house while carrying a huge garbage can (actually… that’s the whole story…) But, all of these things will have to wait for another day. It’s 9:45 and that means way past my bedtime. Hey. Give me a break. I wake up at 4:30.
!gaise \om re! (sleep well)
\Nam (love), Jessica

December 13, 2007
Yesterday was mail day! The PC drove our mail out to the village; I got a Christmas box from my parents and a card from Bethany… Seriously. It felt like Christmas morning.
November to March is “rainy season” in Namibia. My PCT friend from Seattle and I brought rain jackets because of this. Um. No comment on how stupid we feel about that now. It really just means that the 10 days with 30 minutes of rain will fall somewhere in these five months. I do “miss the rains down in Africa” though because when it actually rains it’s beautiful. However, I also do not like the rain because before it rains it has to get ungodly hot. Yesterday was ungodly hot and in the evening clouds appeared. I was hopeful but there was no rain. This morning I woke up and it was a little cool and some of the clouds had stuck around.
I took advantage of the familiar weather and the fact that I had a tiny stocking hanging in my room. I woke up about an hour before my alarm (I can’t help it). I put my ipod on a Christmas mix and downloaded the Oregonian headlines on my phone. It was great! But then I had to come back down to earth, realize I was still in Africa, and get out of bed to go to school.
I was given creative license in the kitchen a few days ago but this morning was the first morning I actually got to cook for myself… not that this means I cooked for myself. I had cornflakes (I’m my father’s daughter).
Modal school starts at 7:40 in the morning with an assembly. The Americans usually get there about 7:05 but the keys don’t usually wander in until about 7:44. Most school classrooms here open to the outside. The hallways are the sand pits in between the buildings. We sit around in the sand pits comparing notes about learners, lesson plans and host families. At 7:40, the learners stand in lines under the big tree in the yard. They sing and then say the Lord’s Prayer. When they are dismissed they have to go to their classroom and stand in lines outside the door. The 9 American (women) teachers then let the girls in the and then the boys to find their seats. Every class must begin with “Good morning, class” “Good morning, Miss Jessica” “How are you, class?” “We are fine, Miss Jessica. How are you?” “I am fine. Thank you. You may have a seat.” It’s really still creepy to me but I’m not here to change the Namibian greeting policy. Then I take attendance. I know that you all were worried that I wouldn’t be able to take attendance, but, alas, do not worry. We got half an hour and diagrams on how to take attendance. All schools in Namibia take attendance one way. No other way is acceptable. On tally means that the leaner is there. This tally must be in the same color that the name is written in. Learners who are absent must have a lower case “a” written in red. The red is not as important as it being lower case but both are preferable… oh, gosh.
Anyway, 1st period is grade 7 (not 7th grade) Natural Science. We are learning about matter and it’s three phases. Today, we tried to talk about melting/freezing temperatures but it totally bombed. They got that melting and freezing happen at the same temperature. But when I tried to do an example with a thermometer they had never seen one. Then, once I explained a thermometer they didn’t have any experience with negative numbers and temperatures. The whole lesson downgraded to a lecture on number lines and negative numbers but they weren’t getting the connection. I’ll have to figure out what to do with them tomorrow.
Period 2 is grade 8 Maths. I really like this class. They are the worst behaved but I think that makes them more interesting. They talk all the time but it is mostly about math so I don’t really see a problem with it. We are going over the order of operations (BODMAS here, not PEMDAS). I did have a few normal examples then I did a really long equation that took up the whole board. Then I asked them to come up with an equation they thought would stump the class. All of theirs were way harder than mine. We’ll finish those tomorrow. I had to work on one of their long division problems for them because it involved decimals. Other than that, they are pretty up to par (which means they can add, subtract, multiply and divide – yippee!).
Period 3 is grade ten Physical Science. I decided to do Physics with them. I decided this when I found out that they were only adding, subtracting, multiplying and dividing in grade 8. Little did I know that “grade 10” meant “anyone in the village who happens to be bored during summer break”. We’ve had grade 12, we’ve had university students and, I swear, some guys wandered over from the shebeen (she-bean) (bar) across the street. I would love to teach them physics but I don’t know if I’m the most qualified. They ask really great questions but some of them are making me stretch all the way back to my General Physics class at college.
Period 4 I’m off. And period 5, I become a lunch lady. We feed the kids everyday. It’s a perk of coming to school in summer. Today some small kids wandered into the schoolyard during fourth period. I was speaking KK with them and they weren’t making any sense. The PC driver who brought our TRC friend from Omaruru let me know that the kids were street kids who weren’t always there mentally… I guess I should have known… one of them had a petrified bat. Anyway, after all the learners finished getting their food, these kids were lined up so they could pretend to be school kids. They filed through and got food. It was cute… petrified bat or no…
The point of modal school, according to the PC, is to evaluate our teaching. This means that we will have evaluations everyday – surprise! They’re here to rate your class! Sort of visits. I don’t minds and have done well on most of my evaluations so far (today, I accidentally said the sun and moon rotate around the earth… er… oops). They only problems that arise are the differences between the American school system and the Namibian. In the Namibian school system, the ministry of education makes the syllabus. The ministry also makes the tests at the end of the year. I understand why they do this. They are trying to get all of the regions up to par. This wouldn’t be a problem id the syllabus (and subsequently, the tests) were good… but they are not. They syllabus requires, let’s say, grade 5 to go over topics 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Then grade 6 should cover 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10. Then grade 7 gets 2, 2.5, 3, 4, 7, 8, 9, 10, 10.5… and since tests are national, they have to get through the entire syllabus. There’s no time to get through the syllabus! Teachers have just enough time to do an introduction to every topic and them move on. My grade 8 class can do long division but if I threw a side-ball at them like decimal division they couldn’t do it. They have gone over division for five years but have never gotten more then an introduction. If the syllabus went more like: grade 5 is 1, 2, and 3. Grade 6 is 4, 5, 6 and grade 7 is 7, 8, 9, 10… it might make more sense, right? These kids don’t need to know about circuits and mirrors in grade 7. I didn’t learn about them until college… where I actually got to learn them and not just the vocabulary.
A lot of Namibian teachers push to get through the syllabus to stay on schedule without checking to make sure the kids get it. Today, we were told “a good teacher makes it through the syllabus” and “you all must work on time management”. I understand not wasting time but making sure the class gets the idea – important, right? And, by the way, I marked (graded) some national exams a couple of weeks ago in natural science. 20/100 is average, 30/100 is good, and 50/100 is downright impressive. You’re not allowed to mark an exam 0/100 so the lowest one I marked was 2/100.
I felt a little like crying after that conversation. You may think, well, the kids in my class will do better on the exam when I get done with them. But volunteers who have been here see little or no improvement in their learners scores compared to other teachers. The bogus syllabus coupled with students speaking a second (or third) language in school have done most of the damage before we get here…
After a whole afternoon of being immersed in Namibian logic I wanted to scream. And come up with a reason for being here.
I can’t end on a bitter note. And I’m not bitter, just American. So I will tell you about my favorite puppy. There are four – Vital, Shasha, Dangerman and the un-named one. The un-named one is my favorite. He came in the house today to watch me eat. At first he sat there wagging his tail. Then he stopped and one eye started to droop. Then he started to lean. Then he fell down asleep… which woke him up and his tail started wagging again. This whole thing happened about 4 times before I finished eating. It was so cute and I was laughing so hard my host family probably though I was crazy. Ai (my new favorite Namibian expression of exasperation).

A Few quotes from The Bing – you don’t have to understand them but they make me giggle.

“Alright. The kid's riding a donkey to the bar. We’re in Africa.” – general observation

“Well, TIN, I guess” –Me (This Is Namibia… watch Blood Diamond…)
“No, TIML.” –PCT friend (This Is My Life)

“I’m going to chillin’” – our trainer
“No… it’s ‘I’m going to chill’ or ‘I am chillin’’” – PCT
“Oh, I am chill…” – Trainer

“’Just for kicks’ means ‘just for fun’” – me
“Oh, just for kicks.” – Namibian, proceeds to make kicking motion while mumbling phrase to himself

“In America, are you having goats?” – Namibian
“Yes, for milk and cheese.” – PCT
“Do you think they would ship the meat when they are finished?” – Namibian

“I think that he can’t read. Maybe he should be in grade 8 instead.” – PCT with a problem
“Will he then be able to read in grade 8? No. He will stay in grade 9.” – Namibian solution

“I think my grade ten learner winked at me today” – PCT

“I just got a shot in a gas station parking lot. All my dreams have been fulfilled.” –PCT

“Hey-O.” – Me
“Oh, what does that mean?” – Namibian
“It means ‘hey’ or ‘hi’” – me
“Oh. In what language?” – Namibian
“English. It’s a song.” – me
“Hey-o… this is what I say-o” – another PCT helping me out
“Oh, I see, Hey-o” – Namibian, clearly not getting it

“We are closer to the city center now.” – Trainer
“There are 500 people here. There is no city.” – me

“Miss, where will you live while you are here?” – Grade 10 learner
“Khorixas in Kunene” – me
“Oh. You know what they have there?” – Grade 10 gets up and writes “KFD” on the board
“I do not know KFD.” – me
“Miss, it’s Kentucky Fried Donkey.” – learner

“Where are you from?” – man on street
“America” – me
“I want to marry someone with white skin like you.” – man
“You’d probably be better with a Norwegian. They’re whiter.” – Me
“No. They must be American.” – man
“Oh. Well. Good luck with that.” – me
*PCT friend walks up
“How about you instead.” – man
“Um, what…?” – PCT friend

*In a car
“Hey, Steve…?” – me to my language trainer
“Oh. Hallo my sister.” – Steve
*10 minutes pass in car
“Hey, Steve…?” – me asking another question
“Oh. Hallo my sister.” – Steve
*5 minutes pass in car
“Hey, Steve…?” – yet another question about language
“Oh. Hallo my sister.”
* laughing * - me
“Have I shocked you with my overly friendly nature?” – Steve
“That. And you’ve answered every question with Hallo” – me

“Is your brother bigger than me?” – grade 8 four and half foot tall learner
“Yes. He’s 24.” –me, laughing
“Oh. Miss, I am 25.”

“And your [PCT] friend, how old is she?” –Host dad
“24” –me
“Oh! Older than you? But she is shorter than you.” –host dad
“Um… yup…” –me

*Arib means dog in KK
“I have two aribs. How do you say two dogs, Steve?” –me
“Ariba means ‘up! Get up!’” –Steve
“In Khoekhoe, Steve, not Spanish.” –me
“Oh. Aribkha is two dogs.” –Steve

“I think it’s best to think of Christmas in Namibia like bottled ice tea. It tastes fine if you pretend it’s something else.” –PCT

“Hi Jessica. I am running out of vocabs. Kindly download some onto my human CD.” – Language trainer asking for impressive English phrases

“My host brother is a whiz with the saw. William-Sonoma should jump on the gourmet saw bandwagon, no?” –PCT



December 23, 2007
Right now is the most normal I’ve felt in weeks. It was the first Sunday of CBT that the Peace Corps didn’t plan anything for our group in the morning. I’m staying with a Lutheran Pastor and I was sure this meant I was headed for church. Normally, I love church. But… It is the middle of the summer, they put about three more people in each pew than actually fit, their services are three to four hours long and its all in Khoekhoe… And as tempting as all that sounded I really didn’t want to go. But I got up this morning, put on one of my two skirts I have with me and my bright green flip flops that don’t match anything and sat on the couch waiting for the other shoe to fall. The Pastors wife and his three daughters returned home yesterday unexpectedly (they did not say they were coming back until the 28th) but they were all going to church. It was about 20 minutes after the service was scheduled to start when the wife came in to tell me they were going to church and that I probably shouldn’t go. I don’t know what that meant but I didn’t argue. But I did make chocolate chip cookies. And Macaroni and Cheese… from scratch. I’ve figured out the white sauce… I’m awesome. Alfredo? Cheesy sauce? Garlic Sauce? I’ve got it down. I made cookies for the whole family but I didn’t make enough mac and cheese. I felt bad so I saved some for them to taste but I think it didn’t have enough meat for them… or any meat… so its still sitting in the fridge. When the family came home from church, they brought some members of the congregation with them. There are a lot of people in this village who just don’t have anything… nothing… There’s this one kid – I think I wrote about him earlier. He was the one with the petrified bat after school. Since then, this earned him the name “bat boy”. I even sing him his theme song any time he shows up for food in the afternoon. It’s the batman theme song, except at the end I say bat boy. I don’t think he’s caught on that it’s his song mostly because he doesn’t speak any English and the locals keep telling me he’s crazy. I think they’re wrong though. This kid’s got it together. I see him around town and he’s always got food in his hands. He knows how to work the system. Anyway, he walked in with my host family after church. So, what was I to do? I sang him his song and gave him a cookie. There were some other kids that came too. My host family gives them a tiny chore to do – like mop the front porch or coil up the hose – and then they get food. Since I’ve been in this village I’ve seen the decency of people more than I ever have: 28 year old drunkards with no future split their candy bars with street kids, the peace corps driver passes his newspaper on to the old man who always sits on the street corner, all of the grade tens (They weeded out all those who were older than grade 12. So now it’s just the nice mannered ones left. It’s turned into my favorite class.) walk me home because its sunset and similar such things. It makes me think that people are mostly good (I had never really decided before). Anyway, these kids all got a piece of the goat that was killed in the yard last night. The spinal column was on the menu today. I think this is a great system. It lets them get food but they’re not getting it for free. They come knowing they’re going to have to work for their food. It’s good because it gives them some dignity.
It’s really hot today (real hot. Not the average hot that it is every other day). But I braved the heat and came to school to work on my lessons for this week. But I brought my computer too. When I got here. I turned on some tunes. It’s been so long since I’ve heard American music out loud (not headphones). I missed it. Bad Mamma Jamma? Yes please. A little American Idiot? Alright. Some A Boy Named Sue? I could handle that. The combo of cookies, mac and cheese, some time to myself and my music at my volume (everything is always three times louder than necessary) made me feel human.
I’ve got exactly one week of CBT left. I think I can make it. I’ve finally decided on the reason I go through some of the hard things I do… when the lows are low, the highs are even better. For example, there’s a reason 3AM is the best time during finals week in college. It’s because you and your friends have gone crazy. That’s when the memories are made. During CBT, memories are made when all 9 Americans are fed up with their host families. They cram into their trainer’s tiny tiny living room, cut up one apple and candy bar with a Swiss Army knife and sit on the floor so no one can see white faces through the window. I laughed so hard I was crying. When the lows are low, the highs are high.
CBT isn’t that bad though. It’s just hard. Everything is permanently awkward. You’re always wrong… wrong way to wash clothes, cook, brush your teeth, go to bed, wake up, etc. Your host family knows exactly what you are doing at all times of the day. And American humor doesn’t fly most of the time in Namibia. The lows are low. The highs though, are bat boy, puppies, when your host dad finally chuckles at one of your jokes, trying to figure out your host family’s printer with your host brother and making him laugh at a spooler (if you know what a printer spooler is, let me know, because I hate them :] … ), having them name Chocolate chip cookies “Jessica’s specialty”, and getting invited to your learners’ soccer game. When the lows are low, the highs are high. That’s all I’m saying.

December 27, 2007
Here I am. Three more nights in this house. They just gave me ice cream and fruit. I should love them forever, no? Secretly, I am super duper looking forward to getting on with this process. On Sunday we go back to Okahandja to meet up with the rest of Nam 27. Then, on the 9th we have the swearing in ceremony and move to our permanent sites. It will be so nice to get to Khorixas because I won’t be living out of a suitcase anymore. I can cook for myself and clean for myself and shower when I want. But it will be kind of sad too because I’ll be away from some new friends (American and Namibian) and traveling to them is hard in this country.
CBT (Community Based Training) had a lot of ups and downs – I’ve covered those already. But things have been so nice since the whole family got back. They talk a lot about me, in front of me, in KK. But other than that things have been kind of relaxing… and surprisingly not awkward. We looked up horoscopes the other day. I translated phrases like “put your money where you mouth is” and “don’t look a gift horse in the mouth”. We watched “Once Upon a Time in Mexico” on Christmas and spent a few hours going through my ipod. I still can’t fix the darn printer though. More people in the house means less attention on me – which I greatly appreciate. I’m just sad it couldn’t be this comfortable the whole time.
Christmas was really nice. I unwrapped some presents from home that came in the mail. Then, I made some cookies (bat boy showed up again. I swear he’s got a radar for food). I visited some friends and learners around the village then hung out at the house. It was actually a cold night too. So nice.
Wednesday and Thursday I gave finals for summer school. And tomorrow we’re handing out certificates. Tonight is the first night in awhile that I haven’t had anything to plan… I’m kind of lost and confused. I don’t remember free time. The Peace Corps has owned all of my time lately.


January 1, 2007
Ai. I don’t know if I can explain this past weekend without sounding completely crazy. Though, you have made it this far in my CBT ramblings. And I like you. I will try.
Friday morning was our last day of modal school. Some of the learners’ parents came to watch the certificates. Each of the grades (5-10) performed a song. Then we gave them their certificates. It was cute… and chaos… We took a whole school picture. I am sure I will post that at some point in time…. Someday when I have a lot of patience for Internet.
After the ceremony the other teachers and I were cleaning up the school. We had locked up all the classrooms and were about to go relieve the local store of all their cooldrinks. As some of the teachers were gathering things, I was standing waiting with another PCT in the schoolyard. Bat Boy was there. This was not a surprise. He came to almost every day of school and would sit in the yard waiting for food. I also found out from my host family that he is about 11, though he looks 7. This day he was cutting up a roll of tape. My PCT friend told him to stop because it was a perfectly good roll. This didn’t really fly because, well, he’s crazy and because he doesn’t speak English. I said that he had a knife (read: some sort of sharp object) and to not mess with him. My PCT friend thought this was sound advice and started walking away. In slow motion, I saw Bat Boy wind up to make a huge stabbing lunge at my PCT friend. Ai. I started screaming No. He stopped before he hit her. He thought the whole thing was hilarious. I was so angry. All the other teachers heard the screaming and came to see what was the matter. This only provided an audience for Bat Boy and he tried it again. This time he chose a poor target, though. One of our PCTs is from Chicago and she swore she would “beat him down” if he “weren’t a 6 year old”. We left the schoolyard quickly and a few of the grade ten boys were standing there. We asked them to ask Bat Boy to leave (this is where learning the local language would have come in handy). They went into the schoolyard, picked up Bat Boy, took his knife, carried him out of the schoolyard and told him to go. The whole situation is so absurd. It’s still a little surreal… and it kind of makes me laugh. We’re all fine. Don’t worry. I know to be more cautious of the one’s they tell me are not right in the head.
Friday night was birthday party for one of the PCTs. We made brownies and then walked up to the hill in town with the water tower. The view was gorgeous. Those pictures, I’m sure will make it to the Internet someday too. On the way home, the janitor at the school stopped me and asked me where I was coming from. He asked in KK… so I asked for a translation of the question. Then, I promised that I would have an answer in KK for him the next day (this usually works on ridiculous requests for anything. By tomorrow, they have usually moved onto another problem to solve). Anyway, I walked rest of the way home. When I walked in my host mother asked me in KK where I was coming from. I said the water tower and smiled at them all. Usually, they have to repeat a sentence in KK about 10 times and gesture a motion that indicates the word in order for me to understand. They were all so impressed that I didn’t want to give away my secret. Yet another absurd situation that made me laugh. I hope it made them more cautious about what they say in front of me… they never know what I’ll catch from their conversation… like my name. I always catch my name. Go figure.
Saturday morning we met at the secondary school’s home economics kitchen at 8:30 to cook for our host family appreciation dinner that night. We spent the day making American cookies (my job), baked beans (warmed in the can in the sun. Namibian sun is good for that), rice, chicken, sausage, American salad (the “American” just implies that mayonnaise was not involved) and punch. I think we did a really good job.
We started our party about 4:30pm. Each of the language groups got up and gave a speech in the language they are trying to learn. In the Bing, there were only two language groups. Mine was the KK group. There are three other girls that meet in my language class. The other 5 trainees in the Bing were learning Oshiherero. In our speech, we each said a line or two in KK. We had to apologize at the beginning for any mispronunciations. It is far too easy to swear in KK. If you forget to make a nasal sound instead of an alto sound… or if your tick sounds a little too much like a pop… you could suddenly offend someone’s mother. Then, when we finished our speech, we had our language trainer translate from KK to KK. The host families all laughed at this. Which was really good because it was a joke and they actually got my humor. Yippee.
After all our thank you speeches and we had passed out the obligatory certificates to the families, we served our dinner. Wow. That food got tackled. They like food here in Namibia. They like it a lot. And they like meat more. All that to say, our dinner went over well. It was actually a really fun party. And I think our host family felt appreciated.
Sunday morning a 40 passenger bus came to pick up the 9 of us. I don’t get it. But I did like the air conditioning, the free ride and four seats to myself. Saying goodbye to the host family was just like I was leaving for school in the morning. I will see my host mother and father at swearing in though. This is good because I left some pictures at their house and they will bring them to me at swearing in.
When we got back to Okahandja on Sunday we got to just hang out at our training center. This was so nice. I bought some cheese from Spar (my favorite Namibian grocery store. Only second to Super Spar). My PCT friend from Seattle got a package in the mail and didn’t want her Triscuits. I ate cheese and Triscuits and absolutely no meat for lunch. It was great.
Monday (New Year’s eve) we had a regular day of getting lectures from the Peace Corps on various topics. After it got closer to midnight, we had a little New Year’s Eve party in a dried riverbed nearby. An uneventful New Year’s Eve but it was good. At midnight, we had a hug circle and everyone got a hug from everyone else. Yet another absurd situation… I’m getting used to them, I think.
This morning, some of our group got up early and made an American breakfast for us and for our trainers (for a thank you to the trainers). They made pancakes, French toast, scrambled eggs, baked apple toppings and real coffee. It was so good. The trainers who were with us in the Bing kept joking that the eggs needed more mayo but I think they really liked the meal. I said next time we can make it an integrated American meal and put mayo and chopped up meat in the eggs then top it all with a little sprinkle of MSG (it comes in its pure form in a “spice” bottle here. Yum). The rest of today has been really chill. It’s been nice to recover from CBT. There was a poker tournament. I didn’t take part but I did laugh at the usage of “Deuce” “River” “Flop” and “Rainbow” (All worthy of a laugh, no? If you don’t think so maybe the movie “Lucky You” is for you). Then, we had a gift exchange. We drew names before CBT for secret pals. Today, we revealed who had and gave gifts. I got a bag of cookies and a candy bar from my secret pal. A trainer had me. I got my person lotion and some pens. It was fun. Also, we set up the Peace Corps’ projector to watch movies. Love Actually is playing right now. I can hear “All I want for Christmas is You” coming from the lawn. I just couldn’t sit in a big group anymore.
Well, I hope I don’t sound too crazy. It’s just one ridiculous situation after another. One minute you’re cutting up 400 Namibian Dollars worth of sausage for you host family and then you’re trying to explain to the trainers that not all Americans form hug circles on New Year’s eve and then you’re fending off a crazy child with a petrified bat and a knife… oh, gosh. Just know that I’m safe, clean, happy (when hysteria hasn’t taken over), well fed, too well fed, and did I mention well fed… More later, I’m sure. Love, J