Fear Factor - Donkey Version!

The Donkey cart of Death... Actually, it wasn't that bad.

I tried to find the most tame goat-becoming-dinner picture from the last update. If you want the real story just let me know :)

June 6th 2008 – Can you believe it? Can you really?

I’m working on my 7th month in Namibia. That’s two tubes of toothpaste. Three bottles of shampoo. Countless phone minutes. Three red pens. One full tube of chapstick – which I never lost. And more than 30 loads of laundry. It’s a strange strange feeling. In some ways, I feel like I just blinked and wound up in a classroom on the wrong side of the planet. In other ways, I feel like the past seven months have been so wonderful and so terrible that I may never be the same again. And I think I’ve finally realized that I would like to be a different person after this. I’m just not sure what kind of person that will be.

This past weekend I was in Windhoek to see Heather off to America. Since a trip to Windhoek costs a minimum of Namibian $160, I decided it was time to check in on some PC business I had been putting off. It was good that I went to the office because they decided to keep me an extra day to finish everything up. It wasn’t so bad because, being there with approval, I got a free place to stay and three free days off work.

Windhoek is a magical place. It has restaurants and hot running water. If you ever happen to be stuck in Windhoek and need a croissant sandwich, I can tell you where the best one on the contintent is… but you have to promise to take me too… and buy me carrot cake. But, while being so wonderful, and magical, and housing croissants, Windhoek is also a bear trap for my poor little volunteer wallet. Lucky for me, there was another 27 volunteer staying an extra few nights in Windhoek. And instead of painting the town red our extra night, we found an old VHS and a dusty PC TV and watched Shallow Hal. It’s a classy movie… Ok, its not. But I thoroughly enjoyed it. According to the movie, Peace Corps volunteers all look like Gweneth Paltrow – on the inside. The bottom line? If you’re having inner beauty trouble, just volunteer.

Wednesday, I got a ride with a Peace Corps driver part of the way back to site. I know I’ve mentioned PC vehicles before but I just need to say again that they are beautiful. They have more inner beauty than any volunteer… including Gweneth Paltrow. They’re so great because they have seatbelts and air conditioning. They’re so great because they have diplomatic plates and they’re not allowed to pick people up by the side of the road. And they’re so great because the drivers know we think we’re poor and they know they’re being used. You know those times when you invited someone to go to a concert, or movie, or out to dinner just because you didn’t have a car and they did? And you know how you felt like they could see right through you? That is my life. But when someone just wants to give me something for free and I don’t have to ask for it or convince them I need it, it really is a great feeling. It’s like being taken care of. It’s like having my mom around. It’s a relief.

To get the rest of the way home though, I had to find a taxi. There are two taxi drivers that go from Otjiwarongo to Khorixas that I like. Everyone else I’ve experienced who drives that route is, well, crazy… or racist… or sexist. I’m not sure which. I SMSed the two I like but was plum out of luck. They weren’t driving. I sat in two taxis in various parking lots for a combination of three hours without going ANYWHERE before I finally got in a car that had enough ambition to actually leave. And while it was nice to be headed towards home, the ride made me think of Tyra Banks… And I’m sure you are all wondering: Why? Well, I thought of Tyra because of one particular episode of her talk show I had watched before I left the states. It wasn’t a regular occurrence that I used to watch her show. But if it was daytime, and I was bored, it was better than soaps. Anyway, on one particular show she decided she would wear a fat suit and see how the general public treated her differently. I don’t remember the exact outcome of the show. But whatever she experienced would have been hard to describe. I know this because I want to describe the feeling of being an American woman by yourself and crawling into a taxi in the middle of Otjiwarongo. But a concrete description would be almost impossible. Not to mention that half of the experience could be written off as paranoia – prolonged stares, looks out of the corner of their eyes, whispering, pointing, squishing to the opposite side of the car, overuse of the words “!uri”, “skol jefro” and “Amerika”. Then halfway home, they interrupt the conversation to tell me, “These two [passengers] are your good friends”. What does that mean? And what have they been talking about? And if two in the car are my friends, does that mean that the other two have chosen to be against me? And why do we need to choose one way or another? Can’t I just have a ride to Khorixas without being a car debate? But if I am going to be a debate, can’t I at least have the courtesy of being talked about behind my back instead of in front of my face in the wrong language? Inner beauty? Try inner self-doubt.

I saw one of the women from that taxi ride recently. She was so excited to see me. So I’m not really sure what was discussed. Being in the dark really is a tough place to live. And it’s not really something I’ve ever had to deal with before. I’ve always had some sort of cultural cue. Something to cling onto and claim I knew an inkling of what was going on. But here, sometimes I can’t even pretend. Is clueless an aura? I think I glow clueless.


June 11

Sometimes I wonder if I’m becoming a bitter person while I’m here. I would like to change and grow while I’m here but I don’t think that bitter is the direction I would like to go. Some of you may argue that I was already bitter before I came and I say to you, psshaw… Some of you more kindly put that I am a realist, in which case I say, I am. And realism and bitterness do not go hand in hand. Unless you’re a pessimist, which I’m not.

So, using my realistic eyes I have made a few observations that I would like to share.

Most recently, my observation was of the 7th grade math book. On the back cover, it has a picture of the Namibian flag and says, “Buy Namibian products”. On the inside it has a word problem that asks learners to make a pie graph of the different color eyes in their classroom. Sally’s got hazel. Michael has blue. Jeffery has brown. Etcetera etcetera… I consider the problem, look around the classroom and consider the problem again. First, no one is named Sally, or Michael, or Jeffery. But names are the least of our problems. And I don’t want to be the downer but I imagine this problem isn’t going to help anyone’s math skills. I could draw plain circles before grade seven. And that would be the answer – One plain circle with the word “Brown” written on the inside. And when we had finished our eye survey I’m sure no one would be any cleverer about pie graphs than they were before the pointless exercise. So, moral of the story? Buy Namibian products if you live in Windhoek or Swakop. But if you live anywhere else, ask the Peace Corps for a volunteer who will come and help you write more plausible math questions for your learners.

Observation number two? We form a committee for everything. Everything. If there isn’t a solution in the first two minutes of a topic, it’s going to a committee. There’s nothing you can do about it. Once the word committee hits the fan, you’re out of the game. Unless of course, you get nominated for the committee. In which case, you can’t do anything. You’re there. You’re the committee. If you didn’t want to be on the committee? You have to form another committee to discuss the replacement options for you on the first committee. And don’t forget the committee that we’ll need to form to assess the emotional needs of everyone involved. Which is only second in importance to the committee we’re going to need to get all of this paperwork done. I’ll volunteer for that committee but only if I can be the chair of laminating flowers to all the paperwork.

Another thing I’ve observed in my time here is the state of Namibian classrooms. I can’t speak for all of Namibia because I’ve only taught in two schools here. But one of my favorite things about the classrooms here are the desks. The desks at my school are trick desks. I think this is brilliant. If you have a learner you don’t like, just make sure they sit at the trick desk. This may not make them a better learner. But it will sure make you laugh when the desk plays a trick on them. You see, trick desks are the 4 out of 5 desks whose tops are not attached. This means if you try to move the desk or anything on top of it the board that sits on top of the metal frame will come crashing down to the ground. Sometimes only one side will slip. This is also entertaining because all of the learners’ possessions will slide and roll to the ground. I’ve been attempting to think of a solution for trick desks for a while and really can’t think of anything. Except duct tape. Trick desks are second in entertainment to trick chairs. Trick chairs have ceased to be funny to me though because I too have been attacked by them. Sometimes, the fake-stable board doesn’t even exist in trick chairs. In this case the learner will balance themselves on the bars that make up the frame of the chair. Then they will proceed to make all sorts of funny faces until I stop class and tell them to go find a board somewhere to spread across the bars. I found a board for one of my learners today. But to my surprise, she rejected it. It was too dusty. She would rather balance her behind on bars than to get her skirt dirty. Oh, this place.

This observation is actually more of second hand information. But I’ve definitely experienced evidence that it is true. I’ve heard that dating in Namibia goes a little something like this: The guy asks a girl out. The girl says no. The guy asks the same girl out. The girl says no. The guy asks the same girl out. The girl says no. The guy asks the same girl out. The girl again says no. Repeat for a prolonged period of time. Really the girl likes the guy this whole time but they aren’t supposed to say yes right away. I’m not really sure why. But, I do know that this practice is really obnoxious for visitors and volunteers. Because when I’m saying “no” I really mean no. A lot of times I say “no” and I really mean, “I’d be really happy to never talk to you again and you’re scaring me a little”. But “no” is nicer, don’t you think? Anyway, as far as they can tell, my no may mean “maybe later”. And this is sticky because then they ask again and again. And every time they ask the “no” that is coming out of my mouth starts resembling the “get away from me!” more and more. And that’s just being a rude volunteer.

That’s about all I can observe for today. I’m sure there’ll be something else to boggle my mind tomorrow. I do kind of resent the people that describe what happens to your point of view here as, “becoming more bitter”. I don’t think you become more bitter. I think you just start to accept that you may never understand the way things work. I think that you start to understand that cultures really do affect who you are and the way you do things. And I definitely think that, while the bureaucracy and red tape of a foreign country make me want to pull the hair straight from my head, I am still enjoying the company of the people around me. Because, in the root of who we are, I’d like to believe we are beyond culture. And that has got to be one of the least pessimistic things I’ve observed here.


June 12

Today, I had my math class working on multiplying and dividing decimals. I asked them to raise their hands if they needed help on any problem. Recently, my math class has gotten really good at doing work on their own. In term one, I would ask them to do work and they would just stare at the wall or pull out and OYO (a youth publication that educates about life skills. It’s really a neat idea but a bit of a nuisance in math class). I don’t know what got into them but most of them will actually work on their assignment now. The only problem is that there aren’t five of me to walk around and answer questions. The kids know how to do the problems but they don’t know they know how to do the problem. If I’m there saying, “Now what do you do? Now what do you do?” they’re magically able to do the problem.

Today though one of the kids raised his hand and when I came over he told me, “Miss, this one’s ear is paining”. I asked the girl he pointed to if it was true that her ear hurt. She said, “Yes, miss, it is a Kakerlaka”. Ewww – remember the kakerlakas from previous blogs? I hope so because…ewww. That’s got to be so terrible. Terrible. She went to the clinic but has to go back a few more times. She cried for a good part of math class. But she’s such a good girl because she also finished her assignment. A few weeks ago she told me she wanted to be a doctor when she grew up. I hear that a lot around here so, while not neglecting or discouraging, I accept those claims from learners with the grain of salt. But today I decided that with her determination, she might be able to make it.

She’s also one of the members of our new girls’ club. Our first meeting was last Thursday. It went really well. I think that was mostly due to Jill’s amazing marker collection. We let the girls decorate some regular exercise books to be their journals. Most of the girls seemed really excited about decorating their books. Then they wrote about what makes a good leader and a little about themselves. This week, we talked about teamwork and played a few games to encourage teamwork. It was also a large success, I would say.

I’m really excited to be working with a few learners more closely. There’s just a lot that I want to teach them about. One thing in particular has been bugging me lately is the fear of mistakes that leads to lack of creativity and lazy work ethics. When kids write most of them are literally copying drawings of letters from the board. They look and see “e” then they look in their book and draw an e. They look and see “a” then they look in their books and draw a. They look up and see “r” then they look in their books and draw r... it takes so long to copy just one word from the board because they are literally just drawing it into their books. This is a problem when I’m asking for something creative too. I’ve learned that I have to show an example or two then erase it. Then the next day I have to say, “Remember the example? Do something like that”. A lot of times it will still vaguely resemble my work. When I don’t do an example at all, they copy from each other. This would be fine it they were sneaky or smart about it. But mostly, they just blatantly copy. Sometimes they don’t even copy the answer to the write questions. And, worse is when they copy from someone who is not as smart as they are. If someone got a 1/20 on their assignment, don’t copy from them! They don’t know what they’re doing! And I’m not even going to accept it because it’ll be late work! Not that they understand late work.

I don’t blame the learners completely though. The system has a lot to do with… well, everything. Yesterday, I did a simple experiment in class. We mixed salt and sesame seeds together to show what a mixture looked like (they were the only two things I had lying around my kitchen that were cheap enough to use). Then we put the mixture in water to dissolve the salt. Then we filtered the seeds out. The glass of water is currently sitting in the window to evaporate the water. It’s supposed to leave the salt but since then a few bugs fell in and a lot of dirt. By the time the water evaporates, the salt will be in another mixture of gross things that float around in classrooms. Anyway, the experiment was fun because it was so different from what they normally do at school. It was nice to break away from the Namibian norm and have a little fun in class. It was also fun because the last time I brought in food for an experiment, learners were begging me for food to eat. Begging like starving people. So I prefaced this experiment by saying, “you can eat whatever you want but you have to wait until after school today”. They thought it was hilarious. And sure enough, kids showed up to guzzle old pop bottles of salt water with sesame seeds floating in it. It was almost like the Khorixas version of Fear Factor. I was proud… actually I was laughing my face off.

Well, before I go, I definitely need to tell you about the epic adventure I had this week. I took my first donkey cart ride!! Our SCORE volunteer, Tonje, is leaving tomorrow. It is the end of her service here. One of her friends offered her a ride in his donkey cart as a going away gift. After school on Tuesday, I was standing around to watch her ride off into the sunset on a donkey cart when they told me to get in too. What was I to say? “No, sorry, I don’t believe in donkeys”. No! I said, why not! As the donkeys were being beat to start them running, the driver made sure we knew that these donkeys were the slow ones. I was A-ok with slow donkeys but later I decided he was lying or had somehow mixed up his donkeys. And with the generic sad eyes and malnourished bodies, I could see donkey mix up being a common problem and a plausible explanation for a lot of donkey cart death. But this is a theory I will have to test later in my time here. The ride wasn’t so bad for the first little bit. We were on a generally flat road. It wasn’t until we made it to the part of the road going downhill that I really did start to worry. And to make it worse, the young man who was driving the roller coaster cart decided downhill was the time to tell us about a recent donkey cart mishap he and his close friend luckily survived. His nerve-racking tail was only interrupted every so often so he could whip the donkeys to make them run faster. This whole time, I had been holding onto the side of the cart like there was no tomorrow. I decided that a death grip would be the best means of survival in the event of a crash. But, I learned from the tail of the donkey cart crash, the course of action previously taken by cart driving experts is jumping. I’m sure you’re not surprised that this didn’t sooth my nerves at all. Jumping is not in my reflexes. Flinching, death grips and the fetal positions are all in my reflexes. But jumping? Jumping is not in my reflexes... I was pondering this when I was suddenly brought back to my current situation by a flying pebble that made its way into my mouth. First, ow. Second, eww – donkey foot pebble. You’ll be happy to know we made it to the bottom of the hill intact. I would like to think this was due to my death grip skills and Jill’s simultaneous death grip on my knee (You should know that my knee and her large variety of “Oh My God!!!!!” noises were the only thing keeping her in the cart. I don’t think jumping is in her reflexes either). But we could also blame this success on the driver, the slow donkeys or Tonje’s calm demeanor throughout the entire experience. We got a few more minutes of touring around before our shaky legs were dropped off by the side of the road to walk to rest of the way home. And it was definitely on this walk home that I decided I will never be bitter at another donkey cart that passes me by when I’m walking to town on a hot afternoon. I decided this because I never want to get in a donkey cart again without preparation. This preparation will include one or more of the following: a helmet, elbow pads, a will, a recent prayer to God, or personal acquaintance with all two to four of the donkeys so that I can ensure they are in fact “the slow ones”.

I've been a long time gone.

Meh Aye Twin Tees Evan, Tooth Out Sand Ate
(May 27, 2008)

Hello! It’s me. I’m in Namibia. Still.

And since its been over two months since I’ve written sooo much has happened. And yet, I’m still sitting in the same spot in my apartment. On the floor. Because I still don’t have that much furniture. And because the kids can’t see me as well down here. And because heat rises.

So, let’s start at the beginning… or rather, the end, of my last real blog post. When you left your heroine she was on holiday from school…

I was really nervous to leave my flat for three weeks away. I was pretty sure someone would break into it. And if not broken into, something inside would break and burn it down or fill it full of water. But I was lucky to come home and find my flat in complete working order and relatively intact (though my favorite unwelcome houseguest left it’s droppings everywhere for me to clean up. Boo).

When I left Khorixas I was lucky enough to catch a free peace corps ride part of the way to my friends’ house in Okakarara. It was a fun day but only because it was so Namibian. I was so happy to be getting out of Khorixas. Okakarara is about the same size as Khorixas but with a primarily Herero population. There are 6 volunteers there and around in small villages. They are all women and all amazing. I love spending time with that group. They affectionately call Okakarara “the Kak” – which I just learned today may be a swear word in Afrikaans… I don’t think they know that because they also refer to themselves as the “Kak girls”… Or maybe they did know… It’s hard to tell with them.

Anyway, when I got to kak we had a birthday party for me and a few other girls who had gained a year sometime in the previous two months. We had a chocolate cake with candles and got gifts. I got a top that lights up when you spin it. Everything I could ever ask for? Yup.

Well, I proceeded to spend the next week and four days there. And what did I do? Well, the approved answer for that question has become “what didn’t I do?” because it sounds a whole lot better than “nothing”. But nothing isn’t entirely true. Let me try to sum up those brilliant days here:

I learned how to play watermelon soccer, I became injured while learning how to play watermelon soccer, I bought new blue socks, I baked my face off, I watched two seasons of Weeds, I made a friendship bracelet for my mother, I got locked in the Okakarara paddy wagon while getting a free hike into town, I sat in a paddy wagon in the Police station parking lot when the officer forget to let his free hike passengers out of the locked paddy wagon, I witnessed the loss of a precious piece of cheesecake in the “Mr. Price” clothing store, we foiled the Mr. Price employee trying to steal the precious piece of cheesecake, I took 18 million hot showers, “It’s sunny outside, guys. Again”, I attempted to climb a water tower, I got eaten by killer ants while trying to climb a water tower, I sat on the floor a lot, I listened to a lot of good music, I danced to a lot of good music, and I witnessed a dining room table being made out of a kitchen door…

So you see, what didn’t I do?

It was a lot of fun. And I’m sure it was really healthy to spend that much time just being without being judged or stressed… just being. Plus, I had really great company for the whole thing. I think that we all went a little crazy… or were a little crazy to begin with. But either way, I know I’ve got some good friend when they can stand to be with me 24-7 for three weeks, without doing anything constructive, and not want to kill me.

I meant to only stay a week. Then I wanted to go to Windhoek to soak up the big city. There were no hostels available so I ended up joining the rest of the girls who were going to Skawopmund a little later in the week. And I would tell you about the great things I did in Swakop… but instead I’ll just say, what didn’t I do? Actually, I just did a lot of eating and window shopping. I also learned a lot about the medical care available at the coast. But I’m afraid you’ll have to blog search to see if you can get that story from the actual victim. Don’t worry – she’s still alive… and her pinkie toe is still (mostly) attached J

I was only in Swakop for three nights before it was time to meet in Windhoek for our Reconnect conference with Peace Corps. It seems like so long ago that we were sad to say goodbye in January. But we made it all the way to reconnect… and, honestly, no one wanted to go. You may be wondering why no one would want to reunite with their long lost Nam27 friends. It wasn’t the friends that were making us sad to go. It was the conference part. While being here, I’ve realized that I never want a job that requires me to go to conferences. If I never see another room full of white linen table clothes littered with free pens and pad of paper and pitchers of water it will be too soon. Oh, gosh and the projectors… no more projectors either…

Anyway, we managed to find a free ride out of Swakop that was great. I can’t tell you why it was so great. But it was. And I made a new friend. Who is 5. And totally cute. Our ride got us to the office in Windhoek just before three. There were soooo many people. Too many maybe. It was so good to see everyone. But I think it would have been more fun to see everyone one at a time. “Isolated” is a way they like to describe Peace Corps volunteers. I like to say “improving antisocial tendencies”. But tomato, to-mah-to, eh?

My favorite Nam27er Facebook status update (since we all carry Facebook in out pockets and its way cheaper than SMSing) from that hour was, “since Nam27 is all together again, I’m wondering who will be the first to read this”. Do you want to know who was the first to read it? Me. I believe I was also given the title “Facebook Queen” – which honestly, I doubt. But I couldn’t back up that doubt with any truth whatsoever.

Once 27 had arrived we were bused out of Windhoek to a beautiful retreat center just to the north. The center is on a hill with a beautiful view of the city and country around. I managed to get a room that only had two beds so I was able to exercise some reclusive ness during the week – not too much though. Buuuuut our wonderful room happened to also be adjacent to, what I like to refer to as, the party porch… so, you do the math. I will say, though, that 1) ipods are still a gift from above in my life and 2) when ipod batteries run out, party porch conversation is quite entertaining, even while trying to sleep.

When not making use of the fabulous porch and views, 27 spent most of the day indoors problem solving. With as much as I was dreading the conference it was actually really really helpful. I got so many ideas for classroom management and making sure no learners get left behind in huge classroom crowds. I spent most of the conference frantically writing all of the brilliant ideas down. In the end, I really felt like I could go back to site and do something useful.

I also got to spend an evening in Windhoek. I got bused to the city to get my flu shot. Then, I missed the ride back to the center. This gave me a good chance to run to a department store to replace some clothes. Little did I know that shock and awe and feelings of homesickness make shopping trips less fun. In addition, it was misty rain and dark outside. It made it so I couldn’t imagine anywhere in the world I would rather be than the Pacific Northwest of America… But, instead, I settled for the next Peace Corps ride heading my way and, as per personal tradition, sucked it up and got on with life.

During the conference I also got elected to represent all the the volunteers in my region… and when I say elected I mean I was the only one qualified… and when I say qualified I mean I was the only one who wanted to… And when I say wanted to I mean maybe I was a little ashamed that I wanted to… and when I say ashamed I mean… aw, heck, everyone loves me and I definitely won by popular vote. Landslide. Shut down the competition. The people love me, what can I say?

I left the conference on Friday morning. There were still a few sessions left but they were all optional. Three weeks is a long time to be gone from site so I had a goal to be sleeping in my own bed on Friday night. When it came time to leave, though, I had a little trouble tearing myself away again. I finally managed to force myself over to the hike point from hell and snag a taxi. I was lucky enough to stumble on a taxi that already had three and was ready to leave as soon as they got their fourth, me. I was reminded of my learners on the ride when I realized the little girl passenger that sat next to me didn’t belong to any of the adults in the car. She was probably 11 and had had to find her own ride home. I have to say that being a kid in the country is tough. But I think I’ve already ranted about that in this blog.

When I got to Otjiwarongo, I had a little trouble finding a ride. I swear the car I finally got a ride in was just some man trying to make a few extra bucks on his drive to Khorixas. There were 7 people in a regular four door car and not a single one of them was a really big fan of the English language… and, yet, I found myself relieved to be listening to Damara again. Affection? For a certain people? Maybe… only time will tell.

I spent the weekend readjusting and sleeping. I also spent some time cleaning and re-arranging my flat. Jill got kicked out of her place just before we left for break and moved her stuff into my flat. So I moved some things out of my extra room and cleaned a little. For the full flat exchange program you’ll have to check out Jill’s blog. It’s really her story… and my birthday present… and really overall Namibian.

Monday was the first day of the term. This means it was time for the tri-annual teachers’ meeting. All of the upper primary teachers in the Khorixas cluster met at the primary school in town to re-group and re-focus. The VSO in Khorixas gave speech about equal opportunities for children in education. I really appreciated that she had the guts to get up and say some of the things she did. I realized that some of the teachers really appreciated her candor also. But in the end some community dirt started to surface about discrimination and segregation. I find it really amazing how much you can miss when you aren’t a part of the culture. If I look at the things I’m still learning after 5 months at site, I can definitely see the advantage of two years in one place. Maybe by then, I will have scratched the surface of this community… but there’s also a chance that maybe I won’t have. And I will never know either way, I think.

Tuesday was the first day back to class for the learners. This means I taught! I think the kids were a little shocked because I was their first class. I made them sit down to review their exams from last term. You could still see the holiday and farm life in their eyes but I bet my math class had the least amount of trouble readjusting the rest of the day. That’s not to say they all readjusted… we reviewed exams and iffy information from last term for the rest of the week. I feel the luxury of time more at the beginning of the term so I might as week make sure they understand something - especially in math where skills are building on one another.

To be honest, I was a little bitter that first week about being back in the same situations. We just spent a week getting energized and encouraged. Then we were sent back to site to be reminded of the discrepancy between what we wish for and what actually is. If there were three of me… and if I was rich… and if I had four ounces more of patience… and I didn’t really require sleep… I might be able to do everything I want to with these kids... so if you’ve got any of those to spare ;)

Now to the fun part though! My friend from home flew in on Saturday morning. I made it to Outjo Friday night and then found my way to Windhoek Saturday morning to meet her. We basically just putted around town, caught up and found some fruit, ice cream and m&m’s calling our names. We also ran into the Khorixas score volunteer. I love how small this country is.

The next day we managed to travel all the way back to site. It wasn’t really a challenge… more of a trial… in patience. The taxi from Otjiwarongo to Khorixas was just another man trying to make a buck. But this time he had a combi and wanted it filled while towing something. As you can imagine, that sort of transport takes a long time to organize.

We did make it back to Khorixas by sunset, though. The learners had drawn a welcome sign for my friend in sidewalk chalk on my porch. It was really cute – a heart with a Namibian flag and “Welcome Heather”.

Monday was Heather’s first day at school. We have an assembly on Monday mornings. They pulled Heather up in front of the school and told the kids she was also a teacher and that they must show her respect. They told the kids they were so lucky to have two English speaking teachers for two weeks. I would like to agree. But they were also lucky because Heather is just cool.

Other than school, we didn’t really do anything memorable for the first few days of Heather’s visit. I think we went grocery shopping and for a few walks around town. The water was out for a little over a 24 hours in the middle of the week. I think that was a fun Namibian experience - but only when it’s preceded by the power being out for half a day… which it was. They really know how to welcome visitors.

Wednesday was a big day. We were busy coping and finding water and were also invited to a goat slaughtering for a braii (BBQ) the next day. The Score volunteer and some other Namibian volunteers are leaving soon so they decided to have a going away party together. In my time in Namibia, I’ve only seen a goat killed once. But I have to admit, this goat killing was a little more traumatizing than the last. I think the knife was dull. Maybe? There are some great pictures though. I’ll have to see if I can upload some for you all.

Wednesday was also a big day because one of the girls in my class had a birthday. She is constantly visiting me in the library and walking with me around Khorixas whenever she sees me. We had a sidewalk chalk drawing party for her and gave her homemade cards. This was all very political, of course, because what you do for one learner, you have to do for them all… and I didn’t… oops.

Before the braii on Thursday, we stopped into the girls’ hostel just for Heather to have a look around. It was good to get back in the hostel and re-experience it. The last time I visited I didn’t really know the kids that well. This time it was good to know the kids and see what girls were roommates. Where they sit in class makes a lot more sense now.

Then after the hostel visit, we went to the party. I have to say it was a lot of fun. That may even be an understatement. The goat was cooked on the ground. There was macaroni and cooldrink and, most importantly, dancing! I have a new favorite song… you can’t make fun of me for it, though… Just imagine a group of Namibians on the front porch of someone’s house, dancing and playing R. Kelly “The storm is over”, over and over again until everyone there can’t help but love the song forever.

“The storm is over. Over now… la la… do do…” Alright, I don’t really know the words, but I love the sentiment. In the middle of the party, we had to stop so everyone could make speeches. Saying goodbye is really sad. But I’m sure you all already knew that. I guess it just makes our world smaller in the end, right?

Friday I skipped school. They call it “dodging” here. But either way it makes me a terrible teacher for a day. I skipped school on Friday so we would have time to travel to Swakopmund. The ride there was great. It was with hamsters… I would try to explain but something tells me you have to be in Namibia to understand.

Once I found myself in Swakop again, I realized that maybe I had been there too many times. In fact, shortly after I got there, I ran into my host sister from CBT who actually noticed the same thing – “you must like it here”… which I do… but I think its turning into an obsession. Anyway, we were staying at the volunteer house in Swak. I love the volunteer house there – mostly, because I love the volunteers there and because it feels like home.

Saturday was another big day though. We went sand boarding! That’s right. You heard me. Board, in sand, big hill. The company that took us showed up at 9 something in the morning and took us out to the sand dunes just outside of Swakop. They give you a piece of board, a helmet and elbow pads. They claim this is so you won’t injure yourself but I know it’s really just to make sure I look as nerdy as possible – which I did. Or, so I thought. Actually, I looked nerdier after I ate sand. Literally.

When you get out to the dunes you have to climb up the dunes. This is a mild annoyance for some (me), a non-event for others (the professional sand boarders) and hell for others (not naming names, ahem, Leslie). But whatever mood you reach the top in, they start you on a tiny dune. I say tiny now, but then it felt huge. We chose to lie down on our boards but you can also borrow an actual snow board and stand up. Lying down is pretty simple. You just lie down on the board and hold up the front. If you want to go slower you put your feet in the sand. Faster, pick them up. If you want to eat sand, you put down the front of your board. And, if you’re really lucky they’ll also take a picture and laugh at you when you put the front of your board down and, subsequently, have to spit out a pile of sand. Then, of course, there are all the necessary jokes about sand-wich this, sand-wich that. And, being punny, I appreciated them greatly but, out of respect for puns, pretended not to.

By the end of our sand boarding we went down to hills that I would call big. But it didn’t matter how tall they looked at the top, they always looked taller at the bottom. This is because the chair lift doesn’t exist. I would have gone down a few more times but I am out of sand-climbing shape. And, I have asthma… or so I started to claim when I didn’t want to climb any more hills. Overall, it was a lot of fun. I would do it again. And in the end, they took us to the beach and gave us – you guessed it – sandwiches! Oooh, punny. The rest of the day we spent resting and doing my other favorite Swakop activity – eating. I managed to find the tallest hamburger on the planet. There were two patties, a pineapple, a whole head of lettuce, half a tomato, cheese and 6 different kinds of sauces. Heart-attack? Probably.

Sunday morning we got picked up in the freezing cold hour of 6am to go sea kayaking. The man who runs the kayak tours agreed to take Heather, me and another couple of people out that day. The spot to go kayaking is just outside of Walvis Bay – about 30K south of Swakopmund. I knew the whole trip was worth it in the morning when the drive to Walvis was as educational as a field trip. This man was able to point out different types of birds and plants and sand dunes all specific to Namibia or special in some way. It was really cool. Then outside of Walvis, we started driving out onto a sand peninsula. Close to the end, we parked to set up the kayaks and a “bush”… yup, it’s exactly what it sounds like.

After getting equipped with some awesome duds (an amazing yellow hat, bright blue jacket and red life vest) we got some impromptu kayak lessons and we were ready for the open ocean. Close to where we launched was a seal colony on the shore. We were able to kayak in the water just next to their beach. The warning was, “If they jump on your boat, they miscalculated. Don’t touch them, they’ll get off on their own”. Hmm, I’m thinking “no”. So, I was a little nervous about so many slippery, fuzzy faces popping up everywhere in the water. But eventually, they actually did start to become cute instead of a threat on my fingers. It was so great. They were everywhere in the water. If you teased them enough by shaking it back and forth, they would grab your paddle and try to run. They succeeded once with Heather’s paddle. It was a little traumatizing having a kayak paddle stolen by a wild sea animal but Heather won the battle and got it back. We also got to spend some time in more open waters. We didn’t see much out there – just one dolphin and a bunch of tourist boats. The tourist boats weren’t seeing much either because we were the subject of a lot of their photos. I think it’s because we were so cute… and because we were wearing the brightest hats known to man. After we were finished with our kayaking adventure and enough games of seal keep-away, we had an amazing meal of sandwiches (and I say amazing, because they were the most amazing sandwiches I’ve had in this country. I will write the advertisement for them – just as soon as I learn how to write).

Sunday afternoon and evening, we spent some more time relaxing and window shopping. We also go invited to a dinner with a lot of volunteers from different organizations and some other foreigners. It was interesting to have so many different cultures and opinions sitting in one room. The rest of Sunday was also freezing. I wouldn’t have been surprised it there had been ice on the ground. But that’s an opinion from someone whose internal thermometer has ceased to exist.

Monday night we made it back to Khorixas again. As always, transport was an adventure. This time, though, I wasn’t dodging school – while you were all celebrating Memorial Day, we were celebrating Africa Day! Woo! I love Mondays off. Though, I’m not entirely sure what Africa day is.

Today was Heather’s first day teaching. I was so appreciative. My mind was still on Africa day (AKA vacation). She taught grade 6 math about decimals. Also, she read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory to the grade 7 science class. The VSO in Khorixas let Eddie Bowe borrow a class set of books. With all the kids sitting with their own books and Heather reading in the front, it actually felt like a real classroom! It was exciting.

Well, that about catches you up on Namibia as a whole. Or, you know, my life in Namibia. I hope all of you are starting your summers well. We’re getting “winter” now. That simply means hot in the day time and cold at night. I’m ok with that arrangement but only after I buy another blanket. I’ll be sure to write about my winter adventures soon. Sorry it took so long to write these adventures. I’ll be seeing you again soon, Blog, I promise.

As always, more later.


Today:
We made it to Windhoek and the Peace Corps office - my home away from my home away from home... Unless we include the hostle I'm staying at then its, my home away from my home away from my home away from home. That's right. Heather and I will soon be saying "see you later" again. Welcome her back to the states if you see her there.