SEPTEMBER

September 14, 2008

WINDHOEK CRISIS SOLVED
Well, I solved my Windhoek crisis. Now I just hitchhike in and out the same day. No awkwardness from staying at someone’s house. Nobody spying on what I do in town.
No being in Windhoek after dark at all. No paying money to stay in town. Besides the rush to get everything done in a few hours, the slight risk of hitching, and the waits on both ends, it’s fabulous!
Side effect: intense lethargy and burnout. I literally felt like a ghost for two weeks before I spent a weekend out of the vill. Then, like magic I return to my former self.

QUESTION BOX
I started a Question Box because I’m teaching them sex ed right now. I got like 2 questions about sex so far. Mostly the kids have put in letters to me telling me how they are not getting enough to eat and “Dear Special Teacher, I love you!” Because the word “love” is used loosely around here, I wasn’t sure if I should believe it. Turns out they really do love me. See down further.

SCHOOL TOUR
This past weekend D-town had its first school tour ever to Swakopmund. In my primary school, field trips were happening several times a year and overnight trips on occasion. In Namibia, field trips are costly, so they normally just take the kids for a few days to the coast and to Windhoek. This tour was entirely due to the HOD’s effort and connections. He managed to raise an amazing amount of money from his friends in a short period of time. It was a wonderful example of hope for Namibia just when I was feeling really, really down about the stuff here.
I was surprised that of 65 students, only 2 had been to the coast before. The coast is about 4 hours away. I’ve already gone there twice before. So this really was an amazing trip for them.
The bus was scheduled to arrive at 5 am. But since were in Namibia, it didn’t arrive until 11:00am. In the meantime, there was general chaos in school. A baby of a hostel matron called me “auma” which means Grandma. That’s a first.
It took an hour to load the bus, then we headed out to the airport. Apparently the airport never got our letter, but they were great and arranged to have the school visit anyhow. We went through the whole process of baggage check, security, and even boarded a plane that was being cleaned for later that night. We saw the fire engines they use to put out fires and they even sprayed the water to show us how far it could go.
Only in Namibia.
Then we drove to Windhoek and took some pictures of the kids. But mostly we just waited around. The bus driver dumped the 50 odd kids and teachers at the arts college and asked us to wait for 2 hours which turned into 3 hours while he picked up another group and dropped them off in Katutura. Only in Namibia.
When the bus finally came, it still took awhile to get on the road. We didn’t get to Swakopmund until 2:30 am and I didn’t get to sleep until 3:30 in the morning. Kids piled in, two to a prison mattress, which is standard for hostels. That’s one good thing no one is fat here. Teachers of course get a prison bed to themselves.
The next morning we took a long time to get going, but we went to the shore. I still can’t get over the fact that my kids will do back flips off 10 feet high walls and climb up flagpoles no problem, but they won’t go past knee deep in the ocean water. That’s probably a good thing since none of them know how to swim. Then, we took the bus to Walvis Bay to see a fishing company. Unfortunately, that did not work out, so we came back to Long Beach and braaied (barbequed). That’s a Namibian food tradition I can get used to!
On Sunday, I needed some personal space, so I went for a walk in the morning. Bumped right into an American movie shoot. Jim Caveziel and Ian Mckellen are here shooting some film for TV. Funny that the closest I ever get to “stars” is in Southern Africa. Couldn’t spot anyone though. On an equally exciting note, SPAR stocks nerds candy and Laffy Taffy from America! Woo!
I went back, ate breakfast, and then we headed out to Walvis again. We drove around a bit until we found the shipping company we were to visit. We didn’t get a chance to go on board the boat, but we did walk on the pier and see a seal and jelly fish. After that, we went to the lagoon to take pictures, which is gorgeous, and boarded the bus again for Swakop. After some stops and aimless driving, we headed back to D-town. The drive could have taken 4 hours. Instead it took 12 hours with stops, riding around in Khomasdal, and pee breaks.

MORE IMPORTANTLY:
On this trip, I had a number of important realizations. Now everything makes so much more sense:
I am living with a tribe.
Ok, so it’s kind of a stupid realization at this point, having been here 11 months, but still. I suppose I’ve been brainwashed a bit as to what I thought tribal life would be, so I didn’t recognize it in this form. I thought tribal life meant harmony, group decisions, appreciation for life, traditions like dress and dance and language, watching out and caring for your people. What I thought I encountered was chaos, violence, gossip, drama, German traditions and dances, hedonism, low self-esteem, and selfishness. I couldn’t see that that TOO was tribal life.
It’s both really, just in a different way than expected. Living with a tribe feels like:
--a total lack of personal space—warm bodies next to yours, playing with your hair, bonded at the hip, wanting to know everything you do or think or say, seeing everybody of your sex naked, bathing in the same tub.
--group responsibility for the welfare of the smaller children;
--towing along the whole family on the field trip;
--no concept of someone else’s time because what is important is the tribal time—personal interaction is preferable to rushing about; you’re only as fast as your slowest tribal member; you can take your time because they won’t leave you behind.
---fighting, power squabbles, gossip, violence (also attributed to poverty)
--sharing everything: food, cool drink, jewelry, underwear, hair ties, radios, chargers, shoes, cups, plates, seats, [sexual partners];
--gobbling something down that you really want before someone can ask you for a piece. As a tribe member you’d be obligated to give them some.
--not doing anything alone. You definitely don’t live or travel alone. You don’t stay anywhere you don’t have family. Hotels are out of the question.
--oppression. You are expected to act in specific ways which are sometimes destructive, and like in all small town settings, people can be cruel if you don’t conform. I think this contributes to the HIV epidemic.
--tension between what is personal and what is communal. Perhaps this only existed after the bringing of capitalism and personal property, but I do think it is a source of violence in the community.

2. Despite my very strange ways, somehow I managed to be part of the tribe.
So then here I am. I:
--am independent, even by American standards;
--need personal space of all sorts;
--never was responsible for a small child in my life (not even as a babysitter);
--have a clear concept of inconviencing others;
--am so anti-violent I never even hit kids as a child;
--like to savor my food;
--love to travel to places I’ve never been and have no family;
--do not think about sharing (even by American standards);
--break the mold (even by American standards),
--value personal property.
No wonder it is so hard to make friends. But I’m adapting to this tribal environment:
Already I can see some changes in myself. I routinely hide things I don’t want to share; I like kids and watch out for them; I’m better with being around people all the time; I’m distant when talking about death.

I do every possible thing opposite from what the tribe does. Yet, I’ve managed to become part of it. How I know:

BREAKDOWN OR BREAKTHROUGH?
On Monday after the tour, I was teaching Grade 6. Things were a little hectic as usual, but not out of the norm. Someone knocked on the door, but because our door is broken and the handle is missing, you have to stick your finger in between the door and doorframe to push back the doodad that keeps the door shut. I did that, and the kid outside decides to bang the door as hard as he can. My finger hurts and starts to bleed everywhere. One 6th grader tries to help me with my finger. Another 6th grader approaches us and beats her with his home-made whip (a common occurrence—they’re just following the example of the teachers and parents). He misses, and hits me on the arm instead. I lose it, demand an apology, and then for some strange reason I start to cry.
Then everything goes downhill. I don’t even know why I’m crying. My finger doesn’t even hurt that bad. So, I know the cardinal rule of teaching is never cry in front of your students. I grab my things and leave. But my kids of course notice. No American kid would have known the difference; but my kids notice every detail. About 20 of them follow me to the library and another 20 follow them, trying to see what is going on. I shut them out. Then within about 20 seconds the entire school, all the teachers, and probably the entire village know I’m crying in the library because my finger was slammed in the door. Except that’s not really why I’m crying and I can’t even put the reason into words. The teachers all come one by one to apologize and comfort me and offer to take me to the clinic. They leave and then the kids flood into the library, some just staring because I’m the first white person and probably the first teacher they have ever seen cry. I try to get them to go away, remembering the cardinal rule. But if I shut them out, that tells them I’m not with the tribe. So I let them in. Most of them tear up too and tell me that I and one of the hostel matrons are the only people they love in D-town, and I’m crying too much. I am crying too much. I can’t stop crying for 2 hours. I still don’t know why, but I have a suspicion it’s because I made it in. Somehow, despite everything I’ve done to sabotage my inclusion in the tribe (simply being me); I made it in. And the kids really do love me. And I really do love them. Weird, huh?

August Holiday (a.k.a. The most awesome holiday ever!)

Part I. Off to Zambia

In classic Peace Corps fashion, we planned our vacation about 6 days in advance. Ashley, Megan, Danielle and Julia joined me in our hitchhiking adventure. Julia, Ashley, Megan and I left from Windhoek on Saturday. We were conned into taking a taxi, since we left late from Windhoek, so we agreed to pay up to Otjiwarongo. From there, we got a free hike to Grootfontein with a German family. Ashley and I met up with Danielle at the gas station in Groot and went out to the highway to hike to Rundu. After an hour or so of waiting, we scored a hike to Rundu with a couple. The man was from the Congo and the woman was from Zambia.

They dropped us off at a strangely unnamed gas station out in the middle of nowhere. We walked to town a couple of kilometers and managed to stay at a hotel owned by a former PCV who married a Namibian. He gave us a great deal for the night and we enjoyed hot showers (one very nice thing about vacations!). In the morning we headed out bright and early to the hike point. Julia, Danielle, and I piled back into the Congo couple’s van and headed off to Katima. The drive was long, but neat because we saw elephants along the road.

Namibia is divided into two sections: the North which is above the “red line” and consists of northern Kunene, Ovamboland, Kavango and Caprivi. Basically, white people claimed the fertile southern grasslands for themselves and put most of the black population above the red line. From what I understand there were virtually no white people above the red line before apartheid was abolished. Therefore, people in the north felt the effects of apartheid less than in the South. The north is far more populated than the south, and it shows. As soon as you cross the red line you see houses along the side of the road, a rarity in the south. Most of the houses are mud huts, as opposed to the tin shacks of the south. People walk along the side of the road all the time, while in the south you can drive for hours without seeing another person.

In Katima we stayed at Kaitlin’s new house. She has two cats which are cute but to which I am allergic to unfortunately. We decided to chill in Katima for the next day because we were tired from so much travel. The next day we went to the craft fair where I got a basket. Then we went to Thea’s town about 20km from Katima. It was really interesting to see her village. She lives in a mud hut with thatch roof and cement floor. She fetches water from a pipe about 20 ft from her house and she has two light bulbs. Really besides the lack of water, the only differences between her hut and mine are the sink and the bugs. Thea also lives with a family and loves it. It’s cute her relationship between her and the village. It makes me think that things would have been better if I lived with a family or in the north. Physically it would be more demanding, but maybe I would feel less distant from the people. There seems to be gulf between me and my villagers composed of language, class, race, background, education, culture, and sometimes gender and age. I still don’t know how to bridge that gap or even if it is possible.

The next day we left some things at Kaitlin’s house and took a taxi to the border with Zambia. The border crossing was the fastest border crossing I’ve ever been through. No lines, just a stamp and we were on our way. The Zambian custom office was a bit difficult to find considering it was off the road, but we got our stamps (having paid our expensive! visas while in Windhoek). We took a taxi to Sesheke and an extremely long combi ride to Livingstone. We learned later that we could’ve taken a higher class bus and cut about 3 hours off our trip.

Once we arrived, we checked in at Jolly Boys and walked to Subway to eat. Just like the US. It was amazing, but no cookies unfortunately. That afternoon we chilled at the hostel and set up the tents we borrowed from other PCVs. Ours were identified as the ones that looked like they would fall over at any moment. Actually Ashley and my tent fell over on us the last night.

The next day we decided to go white water rafting. Considering the other options (abseiling, bungee jumping, skydiving etc) rafting seemed like the less scary option all 5 of us could do together. We were given a nice breakfast, but since I was nervous having never been rafting before, I didn’t eat that much. Of course they have these videos of professional kayakers going over waterfalls as you eat which kind of freaked me out. I visualized myself speeding down the rapids and over waterfalls at frightening speeds. After that, we hiked down into the canyon at the base of Victoria Falls. The rapids did not look bad at all, so I was less concerned. Then we had to jump into a rapid and find our raft, scary but I made it. Some kayak guys joined a caravan of about 8 rafts and they helped people reach their appropriate boat.

Our guide instructed us how to paddle and “get down” which means face the outside of the raft, hunker down, and hold on for your life. We went over the first two rapids with no problems except I lost my paddle. Then we came to the third rapid and our guide told us we had 50/50 chance of having the raft tip over. There was also a three meter drop. I was so glad I had left my glasses onshore at that point. We “got down” and went through the rapid. But you can’t really see what’s going on. It feels like a car wreck in the sense that your being tossed and turned all over the place and you are trying to hold on to the rope, but you can’t assess what is happening around you. Then you reach calm waters, get up and realize half of your rafters are in the river! Ok, well that time, I did get tossed into the river, but I held onto that raft for dear life, and the guide hauled me back in pretty much immediately. At that point I was glad I left my jeans on land.

We continued to go over a series of class 4 and 5 rapids for most of the trip. On one particularly bad rapid, our boat flipped and we were all in the rapid. I was proud of myself because I managed to hold on to the boat. It took about 10 minutes or so to get through the rapid and even though we had on life jackets, it was really difficult to breathe. You were trying to hold onto the raft, which was difficult because you were being sucked down into the water. So the exercise made you breathe harder, but you could never get a big breath because the water sucked you down before you could. None of us were too excited to keep rafting after that. One girl in front of me was thrilled to raft the Zambezi before that rapid because it was supposedly one of the highest rated rivers you could go on as an amateur. After that, she was finished. The water is very deep so you do not hit any rocks or get stuck like in some other rivers. It took quite a while for the boat to get flipped and for all of us to get in it again. One guy from another raft went into shock and refused to paddle any more for the rest of the trip.

We finally reached the last rapid, and I was exhausted. Paddling was hard work as was holding on for your life. I popped out of the boat on that rapid just because I was too tired to hold on. I couldn’t reach the boat because the current swept me away, so a kayak guy came and saved me. He took me to shore, and we climbed out, thankful to be on land again. Then we climbed back out of the canyon which was basically straight up. Ashley, Megan, and I were some of the last to arrive at the top. The guides carried up the deflated rafts on their shoulders, then came back down to give us water before we made it to the top. Shows how not in shape we were. I couldn’t have done the full day trip if I had wanted to. On the way back to the camp we saw elephants on the side of the road. Days like that I remember I'm in Africa!

The guides gave us some lunch and then we saw the pictures which were very good and freaking hilarious. There was one where I’m being popped out of the boat like popcorn and another where our face expressions were funny. The one that cracked me up the most was a picture of foam with Ashley’s head sticking out gasping for air. There’s another picture of our raft, but all that turned out was foam. You couldn’t even see the raft at all. Then we watched the video of our rafting expedition. It looked pretty intense on the video. I was proud of myself that I did that, but never again!

That afternoon, we went to the museum where we saw the history of the falls, and at night we went to an African restaurant with nice décor, ok food, and crappy service. My arms were sore for the next week!

The next day we watched Danielle and Ashley zip slide, bungee jump and do the swing. I took photos from afar and chatted with the border police person and the official videographer. Then, we went to the Victoria Falls Park so we could actually see the falls. There were large baboons everywhere and they would take your bag if you had one. We walked along the falls and took lots of pictures. Really is impressive, even in dry season when there was not much water. Then we walked on top of the falls to see some children playing in the water meters from the falls edge. Oh, Africa.

We turned back and took a combi back to Livingstone. That night Danielle, Megan and I went on a booze cruise. Drinks were strong, and we saw hippo, elephants, crocodiles, and kudu. The elephants even crossed the river in front of us. It was fun and totally worth 35$ US. The next day we hung around the hostel for the morning then headed out to the border on the bus. We crossed on foot and made our way back to Kaitlin’s for the night. It was great to get back to Namdollars because Kwatcha are so hard to deal with. It is 3300 Kwatcha for one american dollar and the Kwatcha bills all look the same, so you end up trying to pay US$ .05 or 50$US for one drink. We had problems the whole time with the currency, but most people seemed honest.

From Katima, we headed to Divundu and stayed two nights with Chris and Paul. It was great to watch movies and chill for a day. They also scored an awesome house complete with washing machine, hot water, and river right by it. No swimming tho, too many crocs!
Megan hiked out to go back to her site from Divundu. Ashley managed to get us the best possible hike ever which leads to:

PART II Etosha
Ashley asked a white couple if they could take us to Grootfontein and they agreed. We all piled into their safari truck and were excited to get all the way to Groot and possibly farther in one day. Our plans had been to get up to Ondangwa and from there to Opuwo. That all changed within the first 5 minutes of our trip. Once the couple found out that we were volunteers they invited us to stay at their lodge in Etosha for free. Of course we eagerly agreed. Turns out the lodge was quoted as one of the most exclusive luxury lodges in the Etosha area.

It was amazing.
We stayed in luxury tents, basically cabins with tent material on the outside. We had solar electricity and fire-heated water. The bed was so comfy. The dinner area overlooked a water hole that was no more than 30 feet from the small fence. You were really in the wild. But, the food was great! It was buffet style and we had food we hadn’t had since America: cold cuts, eggs and bacon, roast potatoes, argula salads. The schedule was, we woke up in the morning at 6, then ate breakfast. At 7 we went on a game drive or nature walk through the concession or in the Etosha park. That lasted till lunch and then we ate a great buffet lunch. After that we had an hour or so to chill, watch the water hole, or shower. Then, we went on another game drive or walk in the afternoon, or just chilled at the lodge. Dinner followed those drives; I think we gained five pounds! We got to hobnob with all sorts of rich Americans, Swiss, Italians, and Brits. It was normally great fun. I got lots of great pictures of the animals. The only animals we did not see were cheetahs, leopards, meercats, and moongeese, but it’s hard to see them anyways. I can’t believe the couple was so nice. We calculated that the 5 nights we stayed there would’ve cost nearly our entire year’s salary in the Peace Corps! It was US 500$ a night all inclusive. There will be no hike that will beat that!

ANIMALS SEEN ON VACATION & NUMBER SEEN:
Crocodile (6)
Hippo (2)
Elephant (20ish)
White Rhino (5)
Black Rhino (1)
Steenbok (1)
Klipspringer (1)
Kudu (tons)
Eland (3)
Oryx / Gemsbok (tons)
Springbok (tons)
Giraffe (tons)
Water buck (tons)
Black-faced Impala (30-40)
Red Hartebeest (20ish)
Hartman’s Mountain Zebra (10ish)
Burchells Plain Zebra (tons)
Wildebeest (tons)
Warthogs (30ish)
Grey jackal (2)
Black-backed jackal (2-3)
Guinea Fowl (tons)
Red-eyed bulbul (tons)
Hornbills of all kinds
Lilac-breasted ? one of the prettiest birds ever
Corrie Buster (sp?) (10)
Ostrich (10)
Vulture (10)
Rabbit (5)
Ground Squirrel (5)
Tree Squirrel (1)
Porcupine (1)
Rock Dassie / Hyrax (1)
Baboon (tons)
Monkeys (5)
Lion (8-10) Heard a lot more!
Spotted Hyena (1)

After 5 days at the lodge, I got a hike with Wendy back to site and got another hike to D-town. I’m going to try to hike in and back the same day for grocery shopping from now on. If I need to get out of town I’ll go to Mariental, since Ruth in Okahandja was sent home. If I need to do errands in Windhoek, I’ll stay with colleagues or with the nice couple in Windhoek (still haven’t contacted them) or in a backpackers. I really hate Windhoek so I’m going to minimize my time there. But sometimes I really need to go out and get a dinner I didn’t cook.
Now, I’m back at site for the first day of school. Hard to believe my first year in Namibia will be over in 2 months, and my mom comes to visit in just 3 months! I can’t wait for this year to be over and go on vacation. Current plans are to hit up Etosha, Caprivi and Botswana with Mom and Uncle Tom, then go to Cape Town and across South Africa to Mozambique with Megan and Danielle. Should be awesome.
My garden is still alive, surprise of surprises!

Also, my keyboard isn’t working. I think the dust got in. So I’m borrowing the school computer’s keyboard until I can buy one in Windhoek. Namibia enjoys destroying electronic devices. So far, I already had to get my camera repaired and it is still not doing well. Now my keyboard went berserk and my cd rom drive only works if I’m persistent. I just hope they last the next year!

A Namibian Birthday

A Namibian Birthday
So I’ve been having a series of weeks where I’m tired, been traveling too much, and just want to spend time with American friends. I’ve skipped school twice (once unsuccessfully—yes, they came to my house looking for me), and I’ve been disillusioned with my secondary projects. As I suspected, they flourished in the beginning only to disspate within, oh 2 weeks. Sigh. Guess salsa club is a no go. However, they still like the Spanish and English classes.
Just when you think noone really cares you’re here, including yourself, you have a birthday. I’m 25 today and here’s what’s happened so far.
7:00 Went to school late teachers sang happy birthday to me as I came in.
7:40 Kids sang happy brithday to me.
9:00 Ate cake (Mr. K made for me), cookies (yes, chocolate chip—I made them myself), cookies somebody bought for me. It was nice.
9:30 performance by community AIDS group that I am not a part of, nor did I know existed
Also received several homemade cards from the kids.
2:00 Played cards with about 20 kids. Damn they are SO good at memory, they kicked my ass. A few girls combed my hair into the ‘fro it gets when it's combed, while another child kept plucking out some of my arm hairs and putting them on his arm. Oh, Namibia.
4:00 Sent the kids away for some solitude. Am online now.
7:00 Dance—haven’t gone yet tho. It's only 5pm here, but I fully intend to teach them the electric slide. Woo.

Overall, not depressing at all. Except that my 20s are half over! (And this whole year of my life, I'll be in Namibia! That's the only thought that makes me want to leave . . .)

Tomorrow is Sport day, and then on Sunday I have to hike in to Windhoek again for medical check-ups.

Hard Days

June was not an easy month.
--Only other white people were assaulted and robbed.
--Kindergardener was killed (possibly by own mother) and thrown in sewage tank.
--I was robbed at knifepoint (again) in Windhoek. I’m on cellphone #3.
--My mirror broke. I bought a new one and someone sat on it, so it broke before I could even get it home. Not a good sign.
--My toilet is not functioning properly.
--Still haven’t got any reimbursements for electricity.
--Suitor # 3 is in love with me even though I said, “Don’t waste your time, I don’t like you” to the kid’s face.

I came to Africa for several reasons:
1. Learn another language
2. Challenge myself
3. Experience something new
4. Figure out what Africa is about, like with AIDS etc.
5. Find out if I like all of the 3rd world or just Latin America
6. Eliminate any subconscious racism

Here’s the Verdict:
1. Nope. Not going to happen. I’m done.
2. Yes. In many more ways than I ever thought. Like how to deal with constantly being a victim of crime. Or how to live in a dangerous city. Or how to deal with Namibian crap all the time.
3. Yes. In many more ways than I ever thought.
4. Yes. I get it now.
5. Yes. I love Latin America. Namibia is just too hard to really love. But that’s not to say that there won’t be some things I will truly miss.
6. No. If anything I am becoming more racist. When I see black men I just want to avoid them because chances are they are going to rob me or hit on me.

On another note:
Secondary projects are coming along ok. English class is so far a success. AIDS club, not so much, mainly because I don’t know what I’m doing. Dance club is tomorrow. Woo.

Problems!

SUITORS
What’s nice about Namibia is I can be totally, brutally honest with people and not have to worry about hurting their feelings. This is because they think I am lying. Like I can say, “Go away, I don’t want to talk to you right now” and they will just go away and come back later like nothing happened. Or I can say, “No, I will not marry you. Ever.” And the guy will go away and just come back later to propose again.
This leads me to:

RETURN OF TOOTHLESS GOAT FARMER
So, Baster Mr. O is back. Here’s a brief snippit of our conversation:
BMO: I want to have a revelation with you.
Me: What is a revelation?
BMO: A relationship.
Me: No.
BMO: Why?
Me: Because I don’t want to.
BMO: But I love you.
Me: I don’t love you.
BMO: You love me!
Me: I do NOT love you.
BMO: Do you want to go for the weekend with me?
Me: No.
BMO: But I love you.
Me: I do not love you. I will not ever love you.
BMO: Why?
Me: Because.
BMO: You don’t like me?
Me: No.
BMO: Ok, this will not affect our friendship. Totsiens.

WHAT was that?
I knew I was mean to men, but geez, this experience is making me downright hostile.

D-Town DRAMA
So, more from the ongoing saga that is D-town.
Last week, the white-guy-who-owns-the-town was broken into. He and his mother were beaten badly and robbed. Uh, scary!
Then, this week a kindergardener dies, and was apparently murdered!
They found the 3 year old in the sewage tank for the school. What a way to go. But rumors say the child did not drown because there was no water in his lungs. They are saying that he died before being thrown in the sewage drain. So, that would be murder . . .
Of course these things happen in the US, but since I've been here I've personally met rapists, child rapists, girls who have been raped, people who have been assaulted, children who have been abused, thieves, filandering husbands, child abusers, and wife abusers. In the US we have these things, but its on a much larger scale, and we are good at hiding things. I've probably met all of the above in the US, but wouldn't know it unless I was their close confidant. In the village you can't hide a damn thing. Everybody knows, including the wierd american volunteer. So I guess it's hard to judge then if the situation is worse here or even better than in the US.

THE ONE BIG PROBLEM
This may sound trivial after the aforementioned events, but the biggest problem facing me is shopping weekends.
When I got my site assignment and found out I was the only one whose shopping town was Windhoek, I knew then it was going to cause problems.
There is a store in my town, but the only thing it has in the way of produce is a few moldy onions. I need vegetables!
Free transport with teachers leaves directly after school on friday and comes back on Sunday. Since Ms. H left, there is not enough space for all the teachers in the cars.
Paid transport is (?) available from Dordabis to Windhoek via hitchhiking (I will investigate this weekend). I’ve only hitched back to Dordabis, and it is not always reliable. Better to come with teachers.
Most importantly, once I get to Windhoek, I have no where to stay.

SOLUTIONS?:
Solution One—travel with teachers always and stay at their houses.
Benefits: certainly the cheapest way to spend a weekend, assured ride home
Disadvantages: awkwardness of staying with people I don’t know well, namibian food, namibian music videos all day (boring!), limited mobility around the city, need to take taxis to go to town, stay in katutura which is none too safe so I have to stay inside all the time, sometimes ppl don’t talk to me.
In the end, the disadvantages have really got me down. I’d rather pay than stay at an awkward house where I feel like a burden.

Solution Two—travel around to Okahandja/Mariental for the weekend
Benefits: good company, it’s fun, there are things to do in town, can steal more movies / music, vent about Namibia
Disadvantages: cost of travel, having to hike alone, having to carry bedding, getting back to Windhoek late makes it a prob to hike back to Dordabis, no time for errands in WHK, can be rather expensive depending on what we do.

Solution Three—Stay in a hostel for the weekend
Benefits: Freedom to enjoy the city, good food, warm showers, everything is within walking distance, able to get errands done and do what I want without interrogation.
Disadvantages: VERY expensive in the end because I have to buy food and board, none too safe to be walking around by myself at night, stay with weird people in the room, sometimes runs out of hot water, people getting up/getting in at all hours, snoring, staying with all men awkwardness.

Solution Four—hiking in on Saturday, staying over at hostel
Benefits: Reduces cost of Solution three while retaining most of the benefits.
Disadvantages: None too safe to be walking around by myself at night, stay with weird people in the room, sometimes runs out of hot water, people getting up/getting in at all hours, snoring, staying with all men awkwardness, have to wake up early, not guaranteed to actually arrive in WHK before shops close, miss out on things only open on Friday like the library/art gallery.

POTENTIAL Solution Five—stay with colleagues family in Khomasdal
Benefits: Free place to stay, a few free meals, possibly some friends???
Disadvantages: have to take taxis, staying with random ppl, could be awkward, less freedom to do what I want.

POTENTIAL Solution Six—a little bit of everything
Benefits: all of them
Disadvantages: all of them, but at least it varies them up a bit. I can tolerate all these disadvantages in small portions, but not all the time every time.

Winter

WINTER
So, it’s winter. And it’s cold here. I bought a heater and the thing doesn’t work! Great . . .
Another 2 weeks before I go back to return it.

SAME OLD SAME OLD
Kids exhaust me and are the reason for me still being here. I figured out the teaching thing now. So that makes my life 8 million times easier. But it’s still not easy.

SECONDARY PROJECTS
Secondary projects are getting a sloooooooooow start.
Starting Dates:
This week—Window of Hope Begins, Finish Library Organization, Begin Computer Classes with Teachers
Next week—Library Assistant trainings
End of June—Class trainings (how to use library), Life Skills Training
Beginning of July—Interest Session for Community Projects
End of July—Begin Community Projects

CONCERT
In DC on September 6 there will be a concert/fundraiser for HIV AIDS in Namibia. All the famous Namibian artists will attend (Gazza, Sunny Boy, etc). Personally, I'm not too keen on popular Namibian music, but if you're interested here is the website:
http://www.namibiaaidsawareness.org/
Perhaps I should explain some things about Namibian music. There are only a couple of artists recording music in Namibia, so they have developed strong followings which are almost like gangs. You can only be a supporter of Gazza OR of the Dogg, not really of both, although you can like both kinds of music. Popular Namibian music sounds like American rap except usually less grody, more repetitive, and half in Oshiwambo or another African language. The artists are heavily influenced by R&B and hip hop artists from the states. Then there is native music. Nama music is heavily influenced by German polka. Otjiherero music is the best sounding I think, although the keyboard beats might get tiring.

Nothing much to say besides I’m doing ok.

Updated Wish List

All is well.

Thanks to all those who sent things! I greatly appreciate it, and can use everything you can send! Some people are still wondering what to send, so here is my updated wish list:
1. Colored paper/construction paper--any kind of colored paper will do. I swear it does not exist in this country.
2. School scissors
3. Chalk
4. Stickers
5. Things for my raffle--pencils, erasers, small toys, whatever.

And for me:
1. Music. Anything. Just no heavy metal, rap, or damara music.
2. TV shows on DVD. Anyone with TIVO? I'll watch whatever you give me.
3. Chocolate chip cookies
4. Laffy Taffy
5. M&Ms

Thanks once again.