One Lazy Day

August 18, 2009

Here’s a secret about my job: Sometimes I go to work and I do absolutely nothing.

Now, don’t go out and join the Peace Corps right now. There are a lot of days that I’m so busy that I don’t sit down all day and my throat goes numb from yelling. But today was one of those days where I do absolutely nothing. The only thing I was supposed to do was get the kids ready for the National Science Fair at the beginning of term 3 in September. The Kunene region is short a couple projects and our grade 7 learners were runners up at the regional science fair. They may need to be prepared to go, but I’m not sure. Then, for the National Science Fair, there are special boards and special papers and this and that and what what what… but the man who is organizing the fair was out of the office today. Don’t know when he’ll be back. Just gone. So, I did nothing.

The kids are taking their end-of-term exams now. The whole school is on lockdown. We’re supposed to be concentrating and studying and wrapping up the term. Unfortunately, my term is wrapped up. I’m finished. So, I did nothing.

Today was nice though. Yesterday was really hot. The heat made some clouds overnight and today was really cold and cloudy. I can feel rainy season coming earlier this year. I bet that means it’s going to get hotter faster too. But this morning was nice while the cold lasted. I don’t know what it is about cold, but things get quieter. The roosters don’t crow. The kids go inside before they yell. Dogs don’t bark. It’s strange and calming. This morning was nice.

This afternoon, I read a little and then I took a walk to town. My first errand was to fax a letter to Windhoek. I had to go to the Telecom shop – which is just a phone company building. To fax my letter, they called me back to an empty room with one table that had a fax machine sitting on top of it. Nothing else. One window. The woman who worked there was dialing in the Windhoek fax number and a man was standing next to her. He was reading my letter. I waved my hand in front of his face and said, “Sorry, sir, it’s private.” His expression was like I had just slapped him. He took a step back. The woman who worked in the shop looked worried. She said, “Sorry, miss, I was just reading the fax number!” When the fax machine printed out the paper saying Windhoek had received the fax, she turned her head and felt around the machine until she could grab the paper and hand it to me without looking at it. Ha! It’s no wonder those of us with western attitudes get such a bad rap – all professional-like… what’s the big deal? Chances are neither of them cared what my letter said or what to make of the information.

The next errand was to buy a stamp to mail a letter to one of my best American pen pals (thanks to those who write)(really. You = mail box bliss). When I walked into the post office, it was completely empty. I’ve never seen it completely empty. Normally, I walk in and have to wait 20 minutes to 2 hours before I get to the window. Then, I try to keep my sentences short and fast to ward off any old people trying to push their way to the window to collect their pension from the government. Then, I walk off dejected because old people are really a lot stronger and pushier than you would think. Anyway, today it was empty and while I was still standing in the doorway (marveling at the emptiness), the post worker said, “Hello, Jess”. I felt so loved, so accepted, so welcomed. I love the post. Not only can they tell Jill and me apart but also I have a nickname. Mmm, good day. It was like post office heaven.

The next errand was to buy more Namibian pumpkin and some apples from the grocery store. Whenever you buy produce at the grocery store you have to get it weighed in the produce section before you take it to register. Granted, the produce section in Khorixas is about the size as a bathroom. I was about to pick up some apples to make applesauce when the produce-weigher grabbed my elbow and led me to a box around the corner that was filled with apples. Cheaper apples. Yay, secret weigher info! The pumpkin is pre-weighed. Don’t know why.

I decided an impulse buy was in order for the day. So I settled on buying some sweets. I wanted something chewy, like gummy bears. So I went to the sweets section. I grabbed the candy that looked closet to gummy bears and threw it in my basket. Then, I had to pull it back out to take a closer look: On the front it said “the unreal world of MANHATTAN”. Just below that it had a picture of a kangaroo with eye shadow and long eyelashes. Her name was Kylie Kangaroo, the bag told me. She had her pouch open and inside it was a picture of the candy I was about to consume: little “gum babies”. The rest of the package was decorated with these “gum babies” of all different colors (red and yellow, black and white… and green) floating around. The babies were posed like chubby mummies; legs stick straight and arms folded over the body. But, alas, each baby had a broad smile and chubby cheeks, obviously to encourage you to eat it. Finally, the back had a picture of a cow head and it said, “Cow-moo-nicate with us…” with an address and phone number, in case you are not satisfied with your babies, you can send them back. Tell me American packaging is this weird and I just haven’t noticed before… right? Oh, baby.

I took my babies, pumpkin and apples up to the register to pay, but I didn’t make it before a pack of Grade 5 girls, each one buying one item: oil, sweets, cookies, soda… it was a good day in the land of Grade 5 girls (except the girl with oil still confuses me). The first girl stood proudly at the register. Her total came to N$6.95. Unfortunately, she only had a 5-dollar coin. She scooped her sweets off the counter and back into the store to reevaluate her choice. The second girl nudged her oil across the counter. The checker looked up the price and told the girl. The small girl pulled a huge bag out of her dress pocket and dumped it on the counter. Hundreds of 5-cent pieces scattered everywhere. The checker gave the small girl a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look and then gave me a kind look and told me to go to my own cash register, opened specifically for my needs. Yup, it was a good day in the grocery store.

I wandered home at a pace of a Namibian person 50 years my senior, chewing my gum babies. The yellow gum babies are the best tasting. Plus, the yellow color makes it hard to see their creepy smile. Chewing my gum babies and surrounded by Khorixas–location chaos, I marveled that so much could be accomplished in Khorixas town. It was like an up and coming metropolis. I was rounding the corner to the school hostel when one of my grade 6 learners stopped me by standing in my path. She stood staring at me and smiling. I had the last red gum baby stuck in my tooth and the wind was blowing pretty badly (a symptom of dry season) which makes my nose run uncontrollably, so my learner had a lot to be staring and smiling at. She finally said, as I was picking baby out of my teeth, “Oh, miss, you are so Beeaaauuutiful today.” I paused for a second to remember that sarcasm doesn’t exist in Grade 6 Namibian English. So I said, “Oh, thank you!” and made a mental note to give her a few extra stickers for being oblivious.

I made it home no worse for wear and with all my errands accomplished. So you see, Khorixas was nice to me today. Tomorrow I may not be so lucky. Which goes to show, you can have your baby and eat it too!

Actually, no baby eating. That’s weird.