It's amazing what your Peace Corps experience makes you think of. All day today I could not stop thinking about the last time I saw my mother. For those of you who don't know my mother died just after I turned 14 in August 2002, it will be ten years ago this August.

The last time I saw her was the day before she passed away, in the living room at my uncles house. She was sitting on the couch eating steak, corn and potatoes (three things we eat often in my family). At that point in her struggle with cancer, and cancer related illnesses, she was long past the point where she knew she was going to die. She had known for some time by then, we all knew.

In the fall of 2001 she was diagnosed with cancer and endured the struggle with chemotherapy and radiation for less than one short year. I remember that year profoundly, as it was one of the defining years of my development. I was in 8th grade and only 13 years old. Going to middle school with a dying mother was a struggle. I acted out, was constantly restless, but I went because it was a safe place. I went because the men and women of Great Brook Middle School made it better in their small ways, and each small way added up to a big feeling of love. No one cared when I got kicked out of (or left) spanish class because I hated the teacher, because at least I was at school. No one cared when I wanted to stay late to help me get through the day, because they knew where I was. They knew and they cared. Countless days and evenings I spent in and out of the office that year, doing good and not so good things. But what do you expect from a 13 year old girl who couldn't even go see her own mother because she could have gotten her sick with the common cold?

December and January of that year were particularly cold, or maybe I just remember it that way. I didn't get to see her a lot, and when I did her blue winter hat never left her bald head, inside or outside. I remember my sisters and I had the idea of all of us shaving our heads together, to help us all with the pain. We never did, we never had the time.

Less than a year was all we had from when we knew to when she was gone, less than a year of my adolescence and my childhood. My life was altered on that day, the last day I saw her, more than any other day of that year. Sure I remember the times I couldn't function or feel, the days when spanish, science, math and humanities didn't matter much. The days when my advisor Mrs. Gnade would let me sit in the corner of the library by myself. I read all four of the first Harry Potter books in one month that spring. But that day we had a connection, my mom and I. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, I couldn't stop looking. I stared at her for a long time, in that single moment, sitting on the couch with her side to me as she ate and watched television. I knew it would be the last time I would ever see her, and I didn't want it to end. I couldn't let it end as long as I was sitting there. No one else knew it was her last day on earth, no one else felt it like I did.

I remember leaving that afternoon, after I looked at her for the final time, with my three sisters and my father. As we walked up the hill in the driveway I told them that she was going to die the next day, I just knew. They didn't, or didn't want to, believe me. Everyone else in the family was talking about weeks, maybe a month, left. But I knew. I always knew things like that. I'm the different one in the family. The eerie one who can feel something before it happens, or tell you where you left your watch. But I knew, and I was right.

At 7:07am I woke up the next morning. It was a monday in August, my first day of high school was only a few weeks away, so it was strange to be up at 7:07am. I rolled over and the phone rang at 7:27am. My dad was at work, so my older sister answered the phone. Someone asked if our dad was home, I can't remember who called but it was either our uncle or step-father, and he wasn't - he had already gone into work. They said okay, and hung up - but we knew. We knew what it was before our father came home from work with tears in his eyes to tell us. We sat in the living room and it was as if nothing moved. She had died at 7:07 that morning. She was at peace, with our uncle telling her it was okay to go. Everything in the room was still. She was gone and it all stopped. There were no wails of crying or break-downs of devastation, we just stopped. Sat together, the three of us. It had always been the three of us, my sister, dad and I, since my parents divorce when I was 2. The actual divorce was more like 4 or 5, but I could see the divide when I was 2, I could feel it had happened.

And so we sat. I think we went school shopping later that day to get our minds off of it and out of the house. We had known it was coming. We knew it was going to happen. None of us expected it to happen that fast, least of all me - the baby of the family. I was the one who spent the least amount of my life with her, and I hate it, I can't stand it. But every perspective has it's pain, for if I knew her as long as my other sisters I would be feeling a different kind of pain. But mine is all mine.

She never saw me go to high school, or drive a car. She didn't know me past the age of 14, and she didn't get the chance to see me go to any of the proms I went to (4). She didn't see me graduate from high school, or move to college, and she wasn't there when I got my degrees last May. She didn't watch me get on a plane for Africa, and she doesn't have the the arduous task of worrying about me from 8,000 miles away like my dad does.

My mother didn't watch me grow up, she wasn't here with me, and that's the hardest part of all. That as time passes more of my life will be without her than with her, this will never be easier, just harder. But, everything comes with grace, and I do not remember her in vain. The small amount of time that we had together was good, and it was real, because much like myself my mother was never anything she was not. She never pretended to be someone different. She was who she was, flaws and all. And for that I remember her fondly, and I aspire to be like her. To be strong enough to be true to myself, regardless of how others perceive me. I want to be strong like her, and to make mistakes and have regrets, because that means you lived.

That day, one afternoon, we clicked and connected. I knew it was her time to go, and she knew I knew. She was in a state of mind all her own at that point, but I knew she knew. She saw me looking at her, looking through her, into the person she was inside, and that person looked back. That person was scared, scared for her children and for herself, but she knew it was time, and she stayed true to who she was, death and all.

I am fierce and feisty, just like her. Strong and argumentative. Opinionated, brilliantly smart and capable. I have in me the same fire that lived in her. The fire that pushed her to the edge and brought her back. The thing that put her in control of her own life and drove her to start her own businesses. She never took no for an answer, she got the things she wanted in this life.

She was a fighter, a survivor and a warrior. Sure, she pissed a lot of people off and let her kids down more often than we like to admit, but she lived. She worked her ass off and was there when she wanted to be. She wasn't perfect, no one is. She hurt me more times than she will ever know, but she is still a person I want to be like, a person I want to become. Fearless and on the path of her own life, and she didn't give a shit if anyone liked it or not, she did what she wanted to do, bottom line. She knew what she wanted and how to get it.

I haven't thought about all this for a really long time. I guess I try not to, because of the overwhelming devastation it makes me feel. How do you expect someone so young to process and cope with something so hard, something so big that they watch happen and unfold right in front of their eyes? You can't. It's impossible at such a time of transition and growth. And so now, almost 10 years later, I think of these moments, these fragments of time that have come to define me so well, and I understand. I wasnt' ready, didn't have it in me, to face this until now. To face the pain, the reality, and the peace of accepting this. To let go of that day and to know that yes, my mother is gone, but she lives through me. And let me tell you, I am my mother's daughter. I do what I want and go after my dreams. I walk through this life with a different rhythm in my step, I am different, just like she was.

So maybe I'll stop running, running away from all of this. Avoiding it and dodging it like a train. I don't like to be in one place for too long, and it's because this catches up with me. But it should, it's time. Time to let go, to turn and face what I have been running from for a decade. Time to learn I have been running from peace, not pain, as I accept and forgive more and more. As I look at my mother not with the "you let me down" attitude I have had in previous years, but with the "you were so much more than I knew" one, I am glad for this change in heart, this growth and change. I want to remember my mother the way she was, not the way my pain tells me she was. And the more I see her for who she really was the more proud I am to have had her as my mother. She was an incredible woman, in her own very unique way. I think that's where I got it.

In most schools, there is a buffer between classes.  First bell rings, which means the period is over and you walk to your next class.  There is a 2- to 3-minute window in which to travel.  Second bell rings, which means no more walking, no more talking, you’re in your seat and the next period … Keep reading →

My Grade 6’s have been learning about the writing process for the past couple weeks [due to our fragmented classes], and we are just finishing up writing letters! I’m corresponding with a class back in Chevy Chase at Blessed Sacrament School, through the World Wise Schools Program Peace Corps has, which matches teachers in the US and PCVs for cross-cultural learning! My learners are SO excited to hear about America and to tell the Grade 5s in America about their country. I’m crossing my fingers that my letters arrive in a timely manner, apparently it takes three times as long for mail to get from Namibia to America than it does the other way around. For this reason I asked the kids to introduce their penpals to Namibia, talk about their culture, their town, and their families, in case these are the only letters to arrive before the American school year ends. Anyway, I thought it might be interesting to share with you two of these letters that reveal the very wide gap in abilities of my learners [although I should mention that the handful of kids who can’t read or write didn’t complete this assignment or turn in anything for me to mark]. Figuring out how to plan a lesson that helps this wide of a spectrum of skill levels is something I really hope to improve upon throughout my service. These learners had the same time to complete this in class -- I’m not changing any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes, this is exactly what they look like.

Letter #1:My name is Patresia, and I’m in grade 6. I’m schooling at Diaz primary school in Luderitz. I like people who are fun and loving people. My hobbies are playing and singing. I speak oshiwambo, but I come from Angola, I’m just schooling in Namibia because I don’t know Portuguese. My culture, we eat beans, porridge, spinach and meat. I live in Luderitz in the south of Namibia. Namibia is a very beautiful country. But I will tell you about Luderitz where I live, here in Luderitz we don’t have many bricks house we have shacks, but we love our homes. I’m not rich, I’m a simple girl. I’m poor. I’m proud to be a poor person. We have natural resource such as diamonds, we use diamonds to make our shoes, shirts and trouser beautiful.

The president of Namibia is Hifikepunye Pohamba he’s living in Windhoek the capital city of Namibia. In Luderitz we have a beach and it is a big sea and in Luderitz its very cold. In Luderitz some people catch fish. We have many festivals. We have also a Waterfront where we enjoy our crayfish festivals. We have crops such as mahangu, Maize and Wheat in our country, but not in Luderitz. We sell mango’s, apples for a business. My parents both work we just sell for extra money.

My dream is to become a doctor cause I want to help people who are sick. My mother’s name is Miss Josephina she works at pescanova. My father works at diamond motor his name is Pedro. In grade 1 I got 1 diploma in Afrikaans and I was so happy and my parent were also happy and proud of me. I grade 2 I got 5 diplomas in all subjects and I got N$200.00 and a trophy. In grade 3 I got 1 diploma and my parents were not so happy because I went down behalve of going up.

I want to know whats your name, where do you live in America, have you ever been with beyonce, Rihanna and maybe chrisbrown? Hows America, do you play netball Me I’m fantastic in 100meter and long jump. Do you do kind of sports. My favourite song is if I let you go by West Life. I like to buy my things in pep, spar, ok and shoprite. Does America have store like ours, how old are you/Me I’m 12 years old and I’m brown with black hair. I’m short, I’m a little bit fat. Please sent your picture/photo Me I will send oneday cause my photo are in our capital city where my auntie is living ok.

Letter #2:My CountryI love Namibia namibia is a good country namibia is my home namibia have moundens namibia moundens is very long and big namibia also have animals and many trees biutife trees.

Questions I live in Ludritz my stree is Jakals draai my frind’s name is Moses he lives in 7 areas. I school at Diaz Primary school it is very nais we keep the school very clean.

It has come to my attention that I have been pretending, putting on a face, and for lack of a better personality trait adjective, lying to you in some small ways. No, I have not been actually lying to you - everything I have posted/written has been completely true, accurate and factual. No, I feel more like I have been lying through omission, things I have chosen to leave out or not discuss here, and I feel like it is causing me a great deal of emotional, mental, and physical stress. So, guts and glory here we go! (Please note the disclaimer to the side that clearly indicates that this is 100% me, no one else).

There are certain choices you have to make as a PCV when it comes to loved ones who are watching your every move because you are now living in Africa. One bad day (or 45 built up without release) can lead to a bad blog post (like this one) which can lead to a HUGE international over-reaction (please don't have this), which can also go the other way too - both of these are things I am experiencing right now.

When something goes wrong here, we write about it. We send sadness home on tear stained letters and fury through the glory of the internet. We expel our pain and stress into the world and onto you at the most random of times (thanks time difference) and in the most intense of ways (insane and chaotic writing?). So, naturally, being the super awesome fantastic amazing supportive people you are, YOU FREAK OUT. You freak out and ask what you can send, write letters as soon as possible, and you demand that we come home, NOW. You freak out because we are freaking out, or have within the past 1 to 73 days, depending on how the mail situation went. It happens. It's life, and Peace Corps Life is a whole new ballgame.

It's kind of like a secret life, a double life, of an American and a Namibian, and then one day they fuse together as one, one day you are Namerican. When this happens I will let you know.

Anyways, so we freak out - because contrary to popular belief PCVs are actual human beings, not just angelic "super good-doers" that appear out of no where (storks?), or are from a secret society of Mother Theresa followers. And when we freak out we freak out BIG. "Go Big or Go Home" has a whole new definition here in PC land. And we freak big because of the internalization that jacks us up like walking pressure cookers. Really, it happens all day everyday. And it happens because we can't freak and/or flip out when we see something that we don't agree with, because then we would never stop and no work would ever get done. We can't vocalize the screaming inside of our heads when we are exhausted, frustrated, irritated and exacerbated two hours into a six hour staff meeting being held in a boiling hot room just to choose who is going to decide how many pens each learner gets to have. So, we hold it in. And we try to let it out, we really do, it's just hard to find emotionally safe places to do it, to let our guards down, and vent, bitch, and release the pressure in the cooker. But more times than not our chosen activity is yet another cause for stress and anxiety as it is strange, weird, stared at and often requires explanation. Who can wind down with they have to explain why they run? So, alas, the pressure continues on the stress path that is the Peace Corps. And when people back home learn that we are upset, not so happy or dancing with unicorns - because that's what we do here, obviously - then they boost sales at the local post office sending large amounts of Cheez-Itz or graduate school brochures. But, the over-reaction goes the other way too.

When we find out that not so good/bad things happen in America we FREAK OUT, in our own way. Which is hard, super, really, amazingly and agonizingly hard at times to deal with. Because we want to be there, or we want to know what is actually going on, but we can't. And we have to get through it in our own crazy PCV way, and we do. It just sucks knowing that something is going on, but not knowing what exactly is going on, or how you can help in any way shape or form.

The point of all this irrational, angry, borderline negative ranting is that PCV blogs are tricky. When you have one you have excitedly given yourself the task of deeming what is and is not okay to write and send out into the world. You have to selectively pick and choose the things that you tell, instead of just throwing it all out into the world - you inadvertently censor yourself in your own creative space. Which adds to the pressure. So, what do you do? Because people back home aren't stupid, they aren't dumb. They know that when you post less you are upset and that when you aren't excited all the time things are lack-luster, because at some point this becomes less of a soul-searching incredible adventure and it just becomes your life, and with such an intense life comes higher highs and lower lows, it's just harder when you can't talk about the lows.

So dear blog readers, this I say to you: yes this is a clear demonstration of me letting too much stress and pressure build up in my mind, body and spirit, and expelling it at way too intense of a rate in too small of a space without actually saying anything as I remain purposefully vague, but maybe it's less of the details I want known and it's more of the fact that I want to be allowed to be angry, I want to be allowed to be upset, and to not just have to behave and keep my mouth shut all of the time because we don't want to upset anyone, which is my own fault. I have been so worried and concerned with behaving, not rocking the boat and not wanting to offend anyone that I think I have caused a lot of my own distress. I have been pretending to be something I'm not, I have been wearing a "happy mask" to please everyone but myself. So maybe it's okay to get upset sometimes, just when it's appropriate.

When I find better coping mechanisms to deal with all of this culture shock and adjustment stress I will let you know. And when I reach a point where I don't feel like I have to be someone I'm not I will also let you know. It's just hard for me. You all know me, as complex, defensive and emotional as they come, but maybe somewhere in this madness it's where we are all supposed to be, and you need me to feel these ways and write these words because you need to be the one reading them.

PS - I really am ok. Just adjusting to a lot of things and learning through some trial and error. But you can still send Cheez Its.

PPS - Namibia and Namibians are still amazing. None of this is from me having had bad experiences with Namibians or Namibia, I'm just a tadpole becoming a frog.

Patrick Shikukutu was the first person in Sambyu to approach me with an idea to expand his community garden, written down, on paper.  Together we wrote a proposal for the Koranyara Garden Project and received the Peace Corps VAST grant (funded by PEPFAR).  These funds will go towards barbed wire for a fence, water tank, [...]

After hiking to Katima Mulilo (on the boarder of Namibia and Zambia), taking two taxis to get to Livingston, two buses to get to Kapiri Mposhi, one train to Dar es Salaam (Tanzania), and finally, one ferry my travel group arrived in the beautiful Zanzibar 5 days later.  We got drenched in the mist from [...]

Last weekend was the culmination of Diaz athletics! The Upper Primary grades [5-7] were divided into the Blue, Red, and Yellow Houses and went up against one another. Friday was field events at the school. We had shotput, discus, long jump, and high jump, with boys and girls divided into Under 11 and Under 13 categories. I watched/helped judge the boys shotput which was fun. Then Saturday morning was exciting because we had the track events at the stadium in Luderitz. As usual, chaos ensued in when it came to getting the learners together, but everyone still had a good time. I think only about half of the kids from the blue house [my team] showed up, ahhhtata. Also some of the learners that had won races in the practice and were therefore on my lineup straight up refused to participate – ‘but miss I will not run that length it is too far, I will faint!’

high jump!

sprints at the Luderitz Stadium! It was really fun to see all the houses sing chants against each other – I wish my camera hadn’t died or I would’ve taken a video! Anyway, the last event was the relay and everyone was pumped about cheering for it! Then all of a sudden teachers were telling me it was time to run. Oh no, ohhhhh no, I have proven to myself the past several months that in many, many ways I am willing to embarrass myself, but I have a limit, and this was that limit. Revealing my inability to run through racing in front of 250 or so naturally gifted athletes, aww hellll no! Thank the dear lord that no one informed me to wear sneakers [and that my foot was paining me/preventing me from running barefoot!]. I watched 5 other teachers race alongside kids which was hilarious. In the end, the blue house was crushed... we were in last place by a lot, but everyone still had fun!

Anyway, in a couple weeks Diaz and the other two primary schools here will face off - hopefully we will win and make it to the regional competition!

So far the garden is going pretty well. We have several plants growing and only one small problem. None of the plants growing are growing where we planted them. For instance, in one bed we planted watermelon and in one bed we planted peppers. We now have watermelons growing in both beds and peppers growing in a third bed. I have a theory about birds coming, digging up the seeds, and then crapping them out in another place where they grew. Overall though, the garden is still quite nice looking and should be producing its first fruits within a week or two.

On to something more interesting. This week I made my first learner cry and go home. Then another first, I had my first parent come to school to find out what I did to make her child cry and go home. So let me explain. Thursday I gave all my classes’ physical science exams. I made them extra long because I have double periods on Thursday which means I teach the same class for two straight periods. The first class (8A) worked nearly the entire time on the exams and my preliminary grading shows they did ok. Grade 10A followed and they worked nearly the whole two periods. Then grade 8B took the exam. The entire class finished in about 25 minutes. I look at the exams and notice that half of the answers are blank or have a random word filled in. This angers me severely. Some of the learners went to sleep after the exam (I have no problem with this because I did it all the time in school) so I started waking them up by going around and tapping on them with the exams. Not hard but hard enough that they woke up and knew it was time to listen to the teacher. I start asking questions off of the exam and going over answers. One girl goes back to sleep. I go over and wake her again. She turns her head and says “no” and puts her head back down on her desk. Now, there are several ways to anger a teacher (I’ve done many of them) but saying “No” to a teacher is probably the fastest way to get their blood boiling. I pull her desk away. She puts her head on her lap and says “No” again. I asked her to leave the Stand up. “No”. “Leave the class.” “No”. I am left with no option. I start pulling her chair out from under her. She stands up and leaves the classroom. When she gets outside she runs away from school and I have no chance to talk to her away from the other learners. I go back to the exam.

About five minutes later a parent comes to my door with another teacher. I escort her to the office and we have a conversation through/with the principal, it was partially in KKG. She wasn’t angry, she just wanted to know why her child came home crying. I explain my side of the story and she agreed that her child was out of line. She also gave me a little advice, next time don’t send her child out of the classroom because it’s embarrassing. Instead just beat her. We left on good terms and everything was fine.

Peace Corps requires you to write a description of your service in the 3rd person which will then be released to future employers, grad schools, etc at your request. It is a bit awkward to write about yourself in the 3rd person, and I was hesitant to sound too full of myself in listing the work I’ve done here—but I actually found it to be a really great way to reflect on my service and begin that process of understanding what this meant that I mentioned in my last post. This is by no means all of the things I have done in the past two years, but really just the highlights. Enjoy a little glimpse into the final stages of Peace Corps service, but also a nice little summation of my time here in Outjo. Love, Trevor Description of Peace Corps Service Trevor Michael Sudano Republic of Namibia 2010-2012   After a competitive application process Mr. Sudano was chosen to represent his country to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer in the Republic of Namibia. Mr. Sudano arrived in Namibia on February 20th, 2010, and went through an intensive 8 week training program. The program consisted of the following areas of concentration:   Technical—25 Hours: This component of training was designed to introduce trainees to current health and social issues related to HIV/AIDS in Namibia. The training emphasized both the policies and practice of prevention, care, and treatment.   Cross-Cultural—29 Hours: This component of training was designed to familiarize the volunteer with the political, cultural, geographical, and historical make-up of the Republic of Namibia.   Health and Medical—20 Hours: This aspect of the training program educated the candidates about preventive medicine, personal health care, and safety in a developing country.   Language—118 Hours: This component of training was designed to equip trainees with a basic proficiency in the language most frequently spoken at their site. Mr. Sudano received intensive training in Damara (Khoekhoegowab).   Mr. Sudano successfully completed training and was sworn in as a United States Peace Corps Volunteer on April 16th, 2010. At the close of this training he was tested by ACTFL/ETS standards and achieved the highest score out of his peers; intermediate-mid, in spoken Damara (Khoekhoegowab). As a Community Health and HIV/AIDS Volunteer in Peace Corps Namibia, Mr. Sudano was assigned to the Ministry of Health and Social Services at the Outjo District Hospital in the Kunene Region. Mr. Sudano’s primary assignment was the establishment and upkeep of the Information Resource Center (IRC) at the district hospital. The library was composed of posters, pamphlets, picture code manuals, a medical textbook library, and digital resources. Mr. Sudano was in charge of procuring, organizing, and disseminating the information and resources available, as well as designing ‘Information, Education, Communication’ (IEC) materials relating to public health in local languages. Working closely with the district social worker, Mr. Sudano engaged in outreach programs covering a broad range of public health topics including HIV/AIDS, malaria, TB, gender-based violence, alcohol abuse, nutrition, immunizations, women’s empowerment and a number of afflictions plaguing the local community. Mr. Sudano’s duties included planning and implementing projects, designing materials, and leading sessions. A large focus of the primary assignment became addressing drivers of the HIV epidemic that were specific to Namibia in general and the Outjo community specifically. Studies have shown that alcohol and drug abuse remains one of the leading causes of HIV transmission in Sub-Saharan Africa, and is subsequently a driver of the epidemic in Mr. Sudano’s host community. Mr. Sudano established six ‘Teenagers Against Drugs and Alcohol’ (TADA) groups in the local secondary schools with the intent of utilizing behavior change communication as a means to address drivers. Meeting once a week for each group, Mr. Sudano led discussions and informational sessions on alcohol and drug abuse as well as adolescent-friendly health services, teen pregnancy, reproductive health, and life skills. As part of the fight against alcohol abuse, Mr. Sudano helped establish a local chapter of the ‘Coalition on Responsible Drinking’ (CORD) in Outjo. Being the first in the Kunene region, Mr. Sudano and the district social worker set an example for nearby towns to follow and helped them to establish chapters of their own. In 2010, Mr. Sudano assisted CORD in the planning of the First Annual Parade Against Drug and Alcohol Abuse in Outjo. Over 300 community members attended the first annual event which culminated in a parade of supporters through town. In 2011, the second annual parade was equally a success. In order to better support the mission of the Outjo District Hospital, Mr. Sudano wrote and was awarded a grant for the “IRC Technology Advancement Project’. A laptop computer, projector, and portable speaker system were purchased with funds through the ‘President’s Emergency Plan for Aids Relief’ (PEPFAR) program of the U.S. Government. The IRC Office officially established a digital library that now contains PowerPoint presentations on a broad range of topics related to public health. The new technology allowed for the easy creation and maintenance of the hospital’s outreach services on a digital platform, led to skills-transfer, helped engage the community in an inventive medium, and helmed the creation of new community programs. One such program, ‘Outjo’s Families First Nights’ became a huge success. Mr. Sudano, along with the help of hospital staff, presented a health topic for discussion at the community hall on Friday nights. Following the discussion was a family-friendly movie. The event was free to the community and served multiple purposes, including: information dissemination, fulfilling hospital outreach goals, establishing a platform for discussing topics relevant to the Outjo community, giving community members an alternative to destructive behaviors (such as alcohol and drug use), and providing a family activity for people of all ages to enjoy. In addition, Mr. Sudano held computer training classes which have significantly improved the computer literacy of his colleagues and interested members of the community. Attendees gained a working knowledge of the Microsoft Office Suite (Word, Excel, and PowerPoint), how to use the procured equipment, as well as a basic understanding of internet and email capabilities that were made available to the hospital in May of 2011. Mr. Sudano collaborated with the ‘Voluntary Service Overseas’ (VSO) physiotherapist and ‘Community Based Rehabilitation’ (CBR) volunteers to conduct a survey of people with disabilities in Outjo. Mr. Sudano created a ‘workable-document’ Excel spreadsheet which compiled and extrapolated all of the data acquired from the survey. The Outjo District Hospital now has a list of people with disabilities, the highest instance of disabilities by category, and a picture of how many have been confirmed by testing. The hospital may use the document to look up a patients records, target specific outreach topics, and gain a better understanding of what strategies have been successful. The document was shared with other districts as a model for disability awareness and prevention strategies. Collaboration with fellow Peace Corps Volunteer Emily Claymore allowed Mr. Sudano to design a poster series addressing some of the most important issues in the community. The posters focused on topics such as proper hand washing, nutrition, edema, malnutrition, a balanced diet and how to take antiretrovirals (ARV’s) properly. The posters were professionally printed, laminated, and now adorn the walls of multiple hospitals and clinics in the Kunene and Erongo regions. Mr. Sudano concluded his Peace Corps Volunteer Service on March 28th, 2012. 

Happy Valentines Day to all back home!

Things are still going pretty well here. I love it really.

School is doing well, I'm working with my counterpart on teaching entrepreneurship and starting a tuck shop (basically a snack shop for the learners to run).

My OVC is a little uneventful at the moment. Don't get me wrong, I love it there but there isn't much to do right now. We had a meeting with a German Org last week and hopefully they are going to help us find some funding or a partnership to improve and expand our garden and farming projects. I love it when I walk to work because every time I arrive I am greeting by about 20 preschool children who run up to me calling out 'shilumbu' meaning white person and they all wait for a hug from me. I love kids! :)

Weather. It is supposed to be the rainy season right now but if it is, this is the driest rainy season I have ever seen! Last year there were record rains and lots of flooding... it looks like we might have a dry season instead... who knows. It has been pretty hot here but bearable.

I get to go home for a week long visit in one month and I am so excited! I can't wait to see my family and friends! I am actually coming home to attend Alison and Sean's wedding... I can't wait! :)

I know this blog post is pretty boring but its better then nothing right?

I remember when I was applying for the Peace Corps I would read current volunteers blogs and was always so frustrated when people didn't update their blogs often. Well, being on the other side of the spectrum now I can say that life just doesn't seem exciting enough to write home about. I know its crazy awesome and unreal to say that I LIVE in Africa... but I have grown accustomed to living here.

My life consists of walking crazy distances to get places, that's normal for me now.

I pick up bugs that are crawling on me with my fingers, rather then freak out and swat them away.

I wash my hair every other day... that would very very very rarely happen back in the states.

Sand in my food is normal. When I went to Uganda I would get an occasional pebble and would lose my appetite... now I just pick it out if its too big to chew. :)

I wash all of my clothes by hand and it takes close to 3 hours to wash it all... that's not including dry time.

I eat a TON of peanut butter sandwiches... its kind of a staple food for me.

I have great boobs! hahahaha.... sorry if that's TMI but I have been told a lot lately how great my boobs really are.

I drink water from the bathroom sink like nobody's business... It's really quite tasty.

It's not weird for a car/truck/bakki/complete stranger to pull over and offer me a ride to wherever I am walking to... It actually makes my day. :)

I am often approached by children who constantly tell me 'give me one dollar' which I reply with 'you give ME one dollar!'

I read an insane amount... Thank goodness for my nook and the crazy awesome library at our local PC office. I've read about 25 books since I landed in Namibia. (seriously, the list is on the right side of this blog!)

The sunsets here are unreal! They are so beautiful that it amazes me!

I love it here, I truly do!

I thank God for sending me here!

oh, and Happy Valentines Day to the rest of the world! In honor od valentines day today the learners were allowed to come to schoo” wearing red and white instead of school uniforms, and then for N$2 could stay after school and watch a movie. Today in my classes the learners took a quiz on [...]

I loathe basing a woman’s value on her appearance.  Worse still is doing it to a young girl.  Worse still is being an official judge for the beauty pageant known as Miss Newcomer 2012. Here are these young girls—13, 14, 15—getting leered at by people of all ages.  Countless men were there holding up their … Keep reading →

The Textbook-Incident and Why I Hate Myself That Night (quoted from a letter to fellow Peace Corps volunteer) The day started like any other, English class, Arts class, blazing hot sun and discus training, then a bit of catch up … Continue reading →

I was making a history test the other day testing the first three topics in our term syllabus that we had covered in history class. The three topics were "European Interest in Namibia", "Protection Treaties" and "Resistance and Increase of German Troops". As I was making this test I came across my greatest weakness as a teacher, writing tests - specifically multiple choice options. I wrote the question "Why did the Germans build roads throughout Namibia in the 1880's?" and listed the options: A) To gain more control of Namibians, B) For hunters and traders to get exports to Walvis Bay, C) To make more jobs, and D) For rhinos. Literally all I could think of was "For Rhinos" for the last one. Having already listed the correct answer (B) there was no harm in adding a whimsical and just down-right hilarious and not entirely comprehensible answer. For some reason the simple listing of "For rhinos" made me incredibly happy and full of laughter as I printed the test from our one working computer at 4:30pm alone in my school. It was just the best moment of the week last week, as I sat in this small staff room in the dark, I don't turn lights on all the time, it just sent me into a giggle-fit. This giggle-fit returned to me when I had students answer the question by circling D as they were taking the examination, which I thought was awesome. Who even knows what "For rhinos" means? I don't, and I even wrote the test. I don't know what I will do about marking this one. I might give partial credit just because it makes me laugh, although that would be a fickle way of properly assessing knowledge, but it is still really funny. Maybe I will have them defend their answer to me in an verbal dialogue about rhinos and rhino like issues. Maybe the rhinos needed the roads to organize, or to herd easier. I dont' really know, but maybe sometime 100 years ago Namibian rhinos really did need those roads.

I got a package yesterday!!! It was from my wonderful parents and it was filled with stickers, balloons, candy, magazines and… Christmas cards. Of course I loved reading them and hearing what all the family friends are up to, seeing everyone growing up, etc… And then I got to my own family’s Christmas card and [...]

I’m literally KICKING myself for not taking pictures of this, but today my school had a track meet. Middle schools/high school sports in Namibia only last from January to February every year, and then they end abruptly until the next year. There’s not much training but still everyone takes it really seriously (some schools don’t [...]

I have now been back at site now for a month and I have had the chance to reflect a lot on the last year and on the year to come. It is particularly interesting to compare where I was last year at this time to where I am now. Last year at this time, I was like a chicken with its head cut off. I was running around aimlessly wondering what in the world I was going to do with myself. I had a vague idea of what I wanted to do, what I was capable of doing, and what could actually be done, but getting these to merge was perplexing me. I was thrust into the world of development with only a few months of experience behind me and a handful of influential books and articles that had inspired me to follow the path I had. In hindsight, I managed pretty well…I am still here after all.

This year is vastly different. I can safely say that I have found my place here. The path is clear and I am fully motivated to take it. I now have enough work to keep me busy to the end of my service in October. At times I wonder if I am now biting off more than I can chew. But I am embracing the work which is already proving to be much more stimulating than last year.

My work continues with the Tulongeni garden. The challenge there of course is getting vegetables to grow and keeping the women motivated about the project. The easy part was getting the money to build the garden; the hard part is getting it to succeed. I have read a handful of books and listened to a number of podcasts that pessimistically assess the situation in Africa. After all of these years of aid, the continent is still the same, if not worse. Failed projects funded by donor organizations are scattered all across the land, and this is even visible in Namibia. I do not want this project to join this group. Needless to say, a lot of my energy will be directed here in 2012.

A separate group of women have decided to begin their own garden near the much larger Tulongeni garden. This garden I am excited about. After they came to me looking for help to build a fence, I told them that they would have to wait until February before I could begin working on a grant for them. This did not deter them. They built their own fence using sticks and palm branches, made compost, and have now begun planting. Their motivation has been inspiring. I now know that this is how projects need to start – without me. Very soon I will begin working more with them to develop a plan for a garden which I am hoping will include a way to collect rainwater for irrigation. I will write grants that will be submitted to the US Embassy and the Ministry of Gender Equality and Child Welfare and with some luck one of them will want to support the project. But again, we face the same challenges as the other garden. But with their overwhelming enthusiasm I am confident that they can make something happen.

Yet again, another group of women (are you seeing the theme?) came to me looking for help with their pig project. These women were very clever in that they knew the time was now to start a project while I was around. And knowing that I couldn’t do much for them without something already going, they found land, they gathered pigs, built a pen out of palm branches, and started their own pig project out of scratch. Their knowledge of pig raising is limited to the local basics but they are fully aware of the economic feasibility of doing so. I know even less about raising pigs, but luckily I have this invaluable tool known as the internet. It has been a joy researching about small-scale pig farming and passing this information on to the women. We are now in the process of developing grants that will be submitted to the same organizations so that they can formalize the project and get proper housing that the pigs desperately need. It is work like this that I have embraced and am really enjoying. I am still on the fence when it comes to pumping money into projects but I am finding that I thoroughly enjoy going through the entire grant writing process. Developing the project, researching information, obtaining quotations, creating a budget, and finally writing the grant itself has been very stimulating.

A fairly new project that is beginning to gain traction is the constructions of a biogas digester at the school. I recently met a fellow American here on a Fulbright Scholarship who is teaching a class at the local university in town on renewable energies. Anna has experience with these biogas digesters that produce a burnable gas from cow manure and produce a lot of good compost. I expressed to her that Enguwantale could be the perfect candidate for the installation of one of these. The school has a feeding program that is supposed to feed around 100 kids each day. However, there is a firewood issue since there are few trees in the area. The program is very sporadic and the maize meal that the school receives gets piled up in a classroom where it either rots or is given out to the learners at the end of the school year. It is our hope that this digester will alleviate this problem. Plus, the digester produces a lot of compost which will be highly demanded by the gardens. We are now in the process of designing the digester and will soon put some letters in the mail looking for some financial support.

My baby for the coming months is going to be the development of a cooperative training course that later in the year I hope to give a full workshop on to the various groups I am working with. It will cover things like cooperative principles, the formulation of by-laws, member management, and financial management. It is a fitting time to be developing this since 2012 has been declared the International Year of Cooperatives (go figure). I see cooperatives as being a very effective way for small rural income generating projects to be organized. I have been struggling with finding good ways in which to organize these various groups of women. I have spent hours on the internet pulling resources that I hoped would give me guidance on how to form a cooperative. However, much of what I have found is cumbersome and difficult to apply in these various situations. So, I have been working on taking all this information from various organizations like USAID, the Food and Agriculture Organization, and various Ministries of Agriculture, along with my own tweaking, to come up with a resource that is hopefully more applicable in an informal rural setting. My hope is that it can be something that future Peace Corps volunteers can use in this country.

And finally, there is school. In line with last year, I feel like a chicken with its head cut off when it comes to school. I am not a teacher by trade, so I struggle. I enjoy being around the kids and am comfortable with them in the classroom, but I am not meant to be a teacher. The problems that the entrepreneurship curriculum faces are well beyond anything I can handle. For 2011, 14% of the grade 10 learners received a D or above. In fact, only 3 passed; 2 with Ds and one with a C. I understand the curriculum just fine but trying to convey this information to learners with English as their second language is daunting. This is work for someone who has years of teaching behind them. I am really at a loss and without the cooperation of the current entrepreneurship teacher who is unmotivated, I give this aspect of my service little to no hope. However, I have an active entrepreneurship club where we run a school store, try to grow vegetables, and run a photo project. There is potential for us to make a good income so my goal is to make enough money to take them on a small field trip somewhere in Namibia.

That was a lot of reflecting. People often ask me what I am up to and what projects I have going on so I thought this to be a fitting update.

I will keep you posted on the good or bad of how these projects unfold. Maybe I will even include some pictures to make it not so boring…

In this 360-degree view, you can see what our students do for fun on free afternoons, the hostel where the kids live, how close our teacher housing is to our principal housing/office building/school blocks, and even some guys doing construction on the pavement near our assembly block.  Just another day in the life….

As I’m grading my students’ first essays and learning more about their lives, I’m reminded of my fortune to work with kids that have overcome so many barriers and are still waking up every morning, determined to get themselves an education. I’m not putting this out there so that you will feel sorry for these [...]

The last three weeks have been a total whirlwind of getting my feet on the ground as a newbie teacher, trying to keep my bedroom free of sand (an impossible feat), and taking much needed breaks to Tsumeb and Ndiyona on the weekend. Nothing too crazy has happened teaching-wise, though I did stun the other [...]

Yep, long title. My college poetry teacher would be proud!

While I haven't blogged much this year (despite my desires and intent), it's only February, so I have lots of time to make up for a sluggish January. Let's start off with something that struck me (again) as I was driving to the grocery store last night.

I needed to stop at the store because I didn't have the ingredients for a whole meal--lots of odds and ends, but a real meal was lacking. So I'd made a list and figured I'd stop on the way home. Great plan.

Well, I pass two grocery stores on my direct route home. There are another two or three options if I want to drive a bit longer. But last night, in the almost snowy weather, I decided to go to Whole Foods. It's not the closest, it's not the cheapest, so why go there? Let me tell you.

I'm starting to appreciate better ingredients. Not just in that they often taste better, but that they are better for me. It's a slow process, and one that didn't start with health. It actually started more than a year ago with my desire to know more about where my food was coming from--and the desire to have my food grown locally.

Long explanation short, a lot of food grown for commercial use has been stripped of a lot of it's nutritional value. That, and shipping it across country (and in many cases, across the ocean) means cost for fuel. It also means that a lot of pollution in that transportation, more loss of nutrients due to travel time, and so on. Throw in the fact that a lot of animal food sources are treated poorly (to put is mildly), it's just not a happy picture.

So I've started shopping at Whole Foods for some items because they grow things more organically, they offer meat products from responsible farms that care for the animal. I like that about them. (I do, however, still turn my nose up at bananas grown in Peru, even though it's Peru, because it's just too far. I want something closer to home!)

And guess what. When I shop at Whole Foods (and other places), I try to remember to use one of the handful of reusable shopping bags I own. I have the kind that fold up pretty small and tuck into my purse. I try to carry several with me at all times.

And some Christians look at me (and those who are so much more gung ho than I am!) and shake their heads. I can see the accusations in their eyes: you are going native, next thing you'll be signing up with GreenPeace, protesting the killing of whales.

But it's not like that. Don't get me wrong, I think killing whales is a nasty thing to do, but I'm not going to chain myself to a boat to prove it. However, I am going to do what I can in my daily life to make sure I'm not trashing the planet. And I've got a pretty darn good reason: the Bible.

Remember back in the very first book, Genesis? Remember how God put Adam and Eve in the Garden? He put the Garden under their care. God told them to take care of the animals. God expected us to be responsible!

I'll give you a second to grasp that.

We have a God-given responsibility to take care of the earth and the animals on it.

That means we shouldn't tromp through this world as destroyers and usurpers. We should get upset when chickens and cows and lambs are kept in pens too small for them to even stand up in. We should use a reusable bag instead of asking for plastic every time.

I'm not saying we should all run out and hug a tree (not that it's a bad habit--trees are very calming and wonderful, and some of them smell like butterscotch!), but that we should take a moment to consider what impact we are having on the world, and how we might change that for the better.

Please don't get me wrong. I'm not going to ever put animal rights before human rights--nor am I going to say that we should die to save a plant. But I am saying that God put this planet into our safe keeping, and well, we've done a doozie of a job so far. We can't fix it all, but we can manage the damage, so to speak.

So next time you are thinking about where to shop, consider shopping the "natural" grocery store--you might pay a tiny bit more, you might run into some weird health nuts, and you might have a bruise or two on your fruit, but you will also be taking care of this planet. And since we all call it home, it might be in our best interest to not trash it so quickly!

Agree? Disagree? Just feeling like saying something? That's what the comment button is for!

... begins with begrudgingly rolling out of bed after snoozing for upwards of 30 minutes. There is a relatively 'ordinary' breakfast of bread with butter and jam. Twenty minutes later there is a staff meeting in the faculty room. Mundane stuff. Class is also kind of mundane, except for the fleeting (yet somehow very powerful) "a-ha!" -moment which is the realization that at 8:30am, all of the grade 8 learners are REALLY zoned- (zen'ed- ?) out and fully absorbed in their math assignment. Immediate result: a glimpse of happiness. One class later in the faculty room, a very intensely happy emotion arises which is accompanied by the mental phrase: 'I enjoy teaching'. The afternoon consists of cancelled classes due to the "sports day" which was supposed to take place earlier in the week; too much rain prevented said sports day until now. Ever get upset about cancelled classes? Nope! Not me! Children are running around, yelling and being merry. Comraderies are flourishing, a healthy competitive spirit is enabled and is enveloping the school. Not too bad for a work day.

It wouldn't be one of "those" days unless it consisted of extreme bouts of randomness. Chasing donkeys out of the mahangu fields felt kinda random. SMS'ing friends to share news of being excited about said donkey chase: random. Climbing in a tree after donkey chase to read a book and sharing news of being in a tree to friends: random. Sharing said news again in German; you get the picture.

It was the kind of day in which you randomly find a swarm (read: thousands) of dragonflies hovering over your house. No wonder the mosquitos aren't biting today! The dragonfly swarm entices you to run in to grab a camera; documenting random dragonfly swarms can be fun and exciting.

Woes about starting a secondary project? No problem! Not if a random tatekulu (old dude) walks up to you and asks you to type his CV (resume) on the computer, and your response is "I won't type it for you... but I will help YOU to type it". Result: computer literacy class #1, and the beginning of a potentially fun experiment.

Then there is one of "those" runs where everything feels right; you haven't ran in a while and just gotta pull a Forest Gump and start runnin'. One of "those" runs (when it happens to take place on one of "those" days) means that you don't care if everyone is still staring at you for being weird and running. You wave at these people because hey, you are running and it feels wonderful. They wave back. You smile. Everyone is a winner today.

In one of "those" runs, your 9th grade learner drops her hoe, leaves her family who is busy cultivating, and runs with you for the next 2km or so. You become aware that you will forever see this learner as "the girl who dropped her hoe and came out for a run with her maths teacher". Her neighbor accompanies us on a bicycle; her friend joins the run as well. We laugh at their being tired. They laugh at my shoes (Vibrams). The people who waved earlier are laughing at the slightly larger group of runners. They wave again. They are drunk, because they've been at the Kuka shop all afternoon. Who cares? You giggle at the randomness and wave again. Everyone is smiling, because everyone is a winner today.

The run culminates with a sprint home to grab the camera. The sky is about to be on fire and the clouds are beautiful today. There is an AMAZING flower that looks like it is also on fire. Result: a picture of the flower (which looks like it's on fire) against the sunset-lit sky (which also looks like it's on fire). In the meantime, my body is on fire (due to the running), and I happened to bring a bottle with ICE in it and melted ice-water. Score. Win? Whatever.





One of "those" days ends quite peacefully. A bucketbath under a full moon, perhaps. Maybe a BOMB meal consisting of lentils, rice and potatoes, which was prepared the day before. An abundance of fire-flies, which haven't been around very often. An email from a friend containing new music... (you know who you are). The day ends with the realization that tomorrow could also be one of "those" days; fatigue has set in, lets try to not give ourselves a reason to snooze for upwards of 30 minutes tomorrow morning. Wouldn't wanna miss out on some prime randomness.

i looked legit. no, im not saying that im some american stud. (although ive never been one to decline a compliment) but for the first time in my life, i was about to stand on the other side of the teachers' desk. id get to decide what we'd learn and how we'd learn it, who would pass (and who wouldn't), and i was the one tasked with the daunting challenge: teaching learners and shaping their educational quest--and as if the challenge weren't daunting enough, need i remind you that me and these learners share very little (aside from that unbreakable bond called the human race ;). our first language, life experiences, and cultural context would never see light of day in the center of a venn diagram. and yet, none of that matters anymore. slowly that middle area is being shaded in as my identity is molding to fit in the namibian context.

so i stood there, along with the other teachers at our school, in front of the learners outside on the "field" where we have our weekly assembly. this time to welcome the learners back to school on their first day. i had the look of a teacher. confident. inspired. prepared. unfazed. it was then that i realized our fascination with a teacher. a teacher was always prepared. and why shouldn't they be? they only work like 6 hours a day? oh how i longed as a child to be on the other side of the desk. no homework. end the work day at 2pm. grades don't matter.

being on the other side offered me a glimpse into a teachers head as i espoused the confident scowl to the chit chatty learners. uncertainty. anxious. excited. inspired. and about that short work day and lack of homework…well, perhaps teaching is perhaps the only job where you don't get even a moment off (sorry, barack even you get a breather here and there)

so thats where the parallels with american teachers starts and ends. because whats perhaps unique is that as we prepared to send the learners off to their classrooms on that ever-memorable first day, the following questions had yet to be answered: what subjects am i teaching? which grades? how many kids are in each class? which classroom will i teach in? but in nam, these (seemingly futile) questions will be answered…in time. so in the meantime, ya just go with it. and thats exactly what i did.

so fastforward (an hour) and i became a register teacher for grade 8A, the grade 8 math teacher (4 classes in all) and grade 9 english teacher (another 2 classes). so what is a class teacher you might be asking in your head? a register class is synonymous with homeroom--and though peace corps advises against us from taking on this responsibility, i decided that the extra work was worth the inevitable rewards. i came to nam as an education volunteer with one central focus: to educate and grow young minds through active mentorship and trust based on love and not fear. having my own register class to be responsible for could only accelerate that goal. plus, how else could i remake the arrogance of DRtothePR if not a register class of my own? since in nam the school day never goes precisely as planned, its just best to…well, go with it. and always be prepared. so homeroom lasted a bit longer than the allotted 15 minutes….it lasted 3 days. so what did we do for 3 full school days? well i wont fill your screen with too many details but heres a glimpse…

in the spirit of enhancing self-esteem and leaner ownership of their classroom and their education, i had each learner trace their hand (took a few demonstrations for them to get the hang of that) and inside each finger they wrote someone they admired (some already admired me…clearly trying to get on my good side…yes, it worked), goals for their future, their favorite singer, and adjectives to describe themselves. heres how one learner describes himself "i have a tung and 5 fingers on my left hand" (difficult to argue with that) and one girl proudly announced "i am short and fat" so together we hung the hands around the classroom. and the classroom (slowly) transformed from one with walls falling apart with one that evidently had bright young minds encompassing it.

as i finally got to meet with my other classes (200 learners in all) they each traced their hands and filled in the fingers. ok so i wont go into each lesson for each day (though i know you're craving the fine details.) but heres what i do want you to know: each friday, i have my english classes write a creative essay on a prompt that I provide. it serves 2 purposes. the learners get to improve their biggest weakness: writing. and i get to literally chuckle (al right ill be honest its a more like my laugh during the 'hey mmmmm hey' she's the man scene) so i was scrolling through them trying to decipher their handwriting all while listing to one of 2 mixes syd made for me. so the first assignment was to write their autobiography. i wanted to learn about my learners. ya know, like their dog's name, their favorite color, and who their friends are. what i didn't realize was that these learners shared more personal and truly sad details about their life than i could have imagined. many have already lost a parent. some to AIDS and others because of lack of proper medical care. others dwelled on their impoverished life style seeking to escape. and then one girl wrote,"God put us on earth to play a game. thats all life really is. so we can only play the game were born into" truly brilliant. it was then that i needed a moment of comic relief (something that only roseanne barr--who by the way announced her candidacy for president of the united states and soon after i offered her my endoresement--could provide at the moment) but then i read one girl's essay "i was 3 years when my grandfather kicked the bucket and when i was little i was always in hot soup when i didn't help my mother with the chores." gotta love those idiomatic phrases.

my goal for my learners (other than the obvious) is to create an atmosphere where they feel willing and comfortable to express themselves, and to enrich themselves, grow and continue to learn. half of the 540 kids at are school live full time on the school grounds. the majority are OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic and/or to economic hardship) and thus they are just craving that support that, in turn, will yield the best educational results. sometimes its not what you do but its what you don't do that makes a difference. when a kid asks a question, it means not turning our head and shrugging. when a learner doesn't understand a topic, it means not degrading their apparent lack of intellect. it means when a learner requires help, not turning a blind eye. it means when it comes to teaching, not viewing it as a job that ends at the ring of a bell. and thats why the line from an essay the learns wrote about a wish they had truly struck me. "i want to be a teacher like mr. francolino. he doesn't get angry or yell like the other teachers. he just teaches like i will in the future (spelled feature)"

so remember when i talked about how in nam, ya just need to learn to go with it. (also if you don't remember, then perhaps there are other problems that we should be discussing instead) so let me explain another one of those "go with it" moments. in nam, one of the most hyped events is "athletics" which takes place during the first 2 months of school (?). i was excited to learn what exactly went on during this ambiguously titled month long list of activities. so one afternoon, i walked to my friends--some teachers at the school--and i just nonchalantly asked "hey so what exactly is athletics?" some shrugged. others nodded. and the most descriptive answers i got were essentially telling me that the kids "run." so thats when i decided to ask the teacher who is running the month long event. "the kids run and jump" so that was at least some more detailed information. i could be down for this. and despite not really knowing what was meant by athletics, this i knew for sure--team red (my team) would for sure have the most pride. step one: we wear red every day.

so heres the deal: schools basically revolve around these track and field events for these 2 months and so in the afternoon, kids "train" (which means they are weeded out), classes are spontaneously canceled to increase the amount of training (weeding) and that brings us to this weekend. our school will be competing in the regional finals in the track and field items. im judging. should be interesting.

speaking of my fellow colleagues (i like using that word--it makes me feel mature and smart) lets give them a little time on the blog. so as you know, i now live on the school premises--which is in itself its own community. 220 learners live here. as do 12 of the teachers. so i finally just got a housemate and his name is joseph. he also just graduated from college and he's become the perfect roommate. on his first night i made him rice and we watched 'how to lose a guy in 10 days'--couldnt think of a better way to orient our new teacher. i took the newcomer around our village and it was then that i realized---"woah, this is my home..and it feels as such" waving to locals, taking him to the shop, and then for a drink--it made me appreciate the home that ive come to have.

on his second night, syd and i along with a few other teachers took joseph to a local bar and we were, of course, flanked by kiara. no thats not a local woman who is courting me (although i can see why you would think that)--thats my puppy. and now that i mention being flanked by kiara--i ought to let you know that my puppy has become a staple of our community--she follows me to school, to staff meetings and routinely interrupts our class, luckily the kids love her and…more importantly, people here respect her and never beat her, they know how much i love her.

alright so back to my social life in the village. my one best friend--ms muyenga--had me over one night for dinner and a movie (hmmm now that i mention it….) and we watched a movie called "ousofia in london" about a nigerian man who finds himself in london and his culture shock is quite amusing. thats when she decided she wanted to film a movie called "matt in ndiyona" and we all know my desire to be in a feature film..so we'll see how this works out. but life in our community is so open. so serene. perfect. (i have a photo of a rainbow over our school that will prove the latter point) teachers just come to my house to hang out. people constantly visiting others. my favorite is when kids come to my door. i invite them in. they dont speak english. i don't speak rumanyo. then we watch full house together. kind of a pattern. and of course, i still visit my homestead family as they always venture over to my place. i feel like im their son who has grown up. and then i blush.

*****this subsection will be creatively and appropriately titled: bugs. (thats the best i could do for a transition…oops) so i came to nam being like "alright im not gonna be one of those ignorant americans who automatically pictures the creepiest and squishiest bugs possible when i think about africa." i arrived in nam and my convictions were cemented. then i went to my village. heres a brief description of what ive encountered in the past week: walking into my house requires the same routine: cockroach squashing--literally hundreds of cockroaches have invaded so i spend each morning and night putting those little beasts permanently to bed. there are enough mosquitos in the room to get 219 mosquito bites in one night and of course i don't have the discipline to not scratch them--so the teachers always rub my sore wounds in curiosity, awe, and disappointment (always accompanied by a slight chuckle though as well). fleas attacked my puppy--thankfully the girl's a trooper. a one of kind breed of wasps (that makes them sound pretty cool) that sting any time you walk by them (my sting count is up to 4--including the top of my head) an insect that was literally 4.5 inches long on my shoulder (a photo will soon follow). oh and did i mention that i swallowed a fly. and that a cockroach came crawling out of my ear. sorry mama, i should have advised you to skip this section :)

so lets discuss life when im not busy changing the world (im conceded…shhhhh…i hope that sarcasm can translate well on the screen.) last weekend--ludacrew (well most of us) had a much needed reunion. i mean, cmon, we hadn't all been together in a few weeks. syd came down to my village and even got to see me teach a few lessons (you can ask her for preliminary reviews unless they're already up on rate my professor) and we made mac and cheese for some teachers, ended the night with cut the rope (i promise thats a game) and then headed to our reunion the next afternoon. so this time the crew headed to tsumeb…aka the las vegas of nam. well thats mostly attributed to the fact the vegas lives there. so the reunion was necessary--laine (did i mention how much i love laine? she's amazing and perfect in every way…thats for you girl ;), vegas and i got to sing our adele-esque version of 'someone like you', chris and i concocted our plan to get our shot at reality TV on the amazing race, syd got to catch up with me on episodes of survivor and that was when we fell in love…with kim and ethan, respectively, then, per usual, we debated productivity vs. fairness, and then learned (pay close attention to these words of wisdom) that if you cook bread for too long, it can burn..and turn black.

many times traveling around nam can be more eventful than the actual trip itself thanks to the need of hitchhiking. this trip back home was a little more low-key. but we did do one thing worth mentioning. syd and i played around the world on the side of the road as we waited for a hike. typicaly the game is played with a basketball and a net. our version required an empty yogurt container and some stones. still just as fun. then as we reached rundu, we said another emo goodbye. till next weekend, of course.

i could go on. but its my turn to make dinner for the roommate. mac and cheese. again. but i wouldn't do my post justice if i didn't mention the sixers (who just beat the lakers i might add) and their dominance thus far. kinda reminds me of rick santorum. this time i wont even risk you not getting the sarcasm. that was sarcastic.

peace and much love

…thats what the learners say every morning before class. if an adult says to them ‘Good morning’ They all reply in unison Gooood morning madam’ or ‘goood morning sir’. The first few days of the year some learners called me sir, because they were used to saying sir from last year ( I almost prefer [...]

IT IS OFFICIAL! - Click here to live happily ever after.: The MOST adorable adorable animals photo website…ever. I am quite the connoisseur of animal photo sites, and I have recently discovered the holy grail. Not only are the photos precious, but the captions lead to involuntary knee-slapping, fits of laughter, and an inability to breathe. Proceed with caution. And enjoyment.

As you know by now, English is the official language of Namibia. However, people here speak much differently than we do in America, and they call this version of English ‘namlish.’ Since arriving in nam I have become increasingly good at this type of english, in fact for almost the entirety of our holiday in Swakopmund we spoke to each other exclusively in namlish just for fun. I’ll go over a few terms now, thanks to some of the Core 34s who I sought out in compiling this list due to their excellent namlish.

Now: this does not mean actual now. It means some time in the near future, like maybe a few hours. However, now-now means now. Now-now-now means like urgent! Example sentence: We must go now-now to get to school on time.

“I am coming” this actually means “I am going,” I don’t really understand why. If you say ‘I am coming’ when you are actual arriving, people would be confused.Example, as my colleague walked away from me but would get back to me eventually with the answer to my question: Ah, I am coming now.

‘ne’ [pronounced like nay] I can’t emphasis enough how this one word is used all the time, it goes at the ends of phrases or sentences and it’s equivalent is kind of like an affirming ‘right? Got it?’ Example used by my host mom showing me how to get to school from my new house: Do you see that you just go with the road here, ne?

“Is It??” This is my favorite namlish term, it is most used amongst Afrikaans speakers, the equivalent is ‘really?’ Literally people use this term CONSTANTLY, so much so that I too have replaced the word really with ‘izzzit?’ Example sentence from another conversation with my host mom from a while ago: Me: Guess what, I’m making red beans and rice for dinner tonight, and my mom in America just sms’ed me that she’s making the same thing!Host Mom: Is it?![yup, it was]

Ayyyyy june [pronounced yuh-nna]: this means Oh lord, it too is common in conversations

Et seeeee! [pronounced ate sayyyyy!] I love this one. It’s used for emphasis or exclamation

Aahhtata: I’ve already referred to this one, it’s like a sigh

Oyyyoyoyo: this is also like a sigh

“It’s true.” There’s no strange meaning to it, people just insert this phrase into a lot of conversations for some reason.

“Used to” this means habitually, as in “They used to call me David”

“Is it fine” being ‘fine’ here is a thing. Fellow PCV Allison does this namlish phrase the best, “it is fine my de-ah”

“that side” this is used a lot in referring to places. As in, “ah, when I return that side [America] I will be speaking nice English, ne?”

Nam-lish phrases that I hear all the time at school -ahhhh this one, he is not serious. The whole concept of ‘being serious’ is something talked about a lot. -this one, she is very naughty [note: naughty is used a lot too, like my host mom refers to some of the teachers who like to party as a ‘naughty’ group, it’s pretty funny]-“Teacher, borrow me a pen?” People don’t seem to be familiar with the word ‘lend’ here. The ‘borrow me’ thing is going to be my main project during term one, it drives me crazy!!! Goal is to get my learners to say “Ms. Nowlin, can you please lend me a pen?” we’ll see how long that will take. They also still call me ‘teacher,’ which really bothers me for some reason – I’m learning all 160 of their names, they are going to at least call me by mine!-When talking about class expectations: “Teacher must learn us good English” In Afrikaans [and I assume Oshiwambo too], the word for teach and learn is the same.-also, this is more cultural than namlish, but here people do not say 'you' to their superiors. this means that the learners will say "what does miss nowlin do when miss nowlin is in america?" and also that my friend the other night [a grown man] spoke to his boss like "did sir attend school near windhoek?" I guess that's how Namibians modify English to be more like Afrikaans, which does have a formal 'you.' inneresting

*at this point I have gotten the kids to use the word lend!!!! VICTORY!! Although, they don’t always give me my pen back… hmmm. i'm not sure they will ever stop calling me teacher it's so engrained in their school lives, but i'm going to keep up the fight.

I hitchhiked for the very last time from Windhoek to Outjo last Thursday. What is typically a quick pickup out of the capitol took me a record 2 hours! The ordeal ended when a semi-truck stopped along the highway to cover the beds with tarps. I noticed the license plates were from Outjo and so I begged the driver to let me ride with him. Not something I usually do, as I feel it is better to get a ride with someone who voluntarily pulls over…but I was desperate. Since I had no intention of standing in the no shade hike point in Windhoek for very long, I didn’t apply sunscreen and it was packed far down in my bag. Translation…I got burnt, yo. So as a final time hiking in the span of two years you’d think it would be successful, but I guess that is the surprise and unpredictability of Namibia and life in the Peace Corps. Check out my new tan line and sad face…

In a small Eastern Sierra online magazine wearing large boots to hide my necrotic toes. But, still. The article is at www.mammothtimes.com, go to special sections and then Mammoth Sierra Magazine. The article is on page 21. It’s an interesting history of crampons.

“Celebration when your plan is working? Anyone can do that. But when you realize that the story of your life could be told a thousand different ways, that you could tell it over and over as a tragedy, but you choose to call it an epic, that’s when you start to learn what celebration is. When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong… that’s celebration.” - “Cold Tangerines” by Shauna Niequest

It has been about two years exactly since I left the US and embarked on my Peace Corps journey in Africa. I just arrived back in Outjo this weekend from my COS (Close of Service) conference in Windhoek. I said goodbye to a lot of great people and discovered the date that I’ll actually leave Namibia, March 28 2012. While this time in my life comes with a lot of mixed emotions, I find myself in an eerily similar place to where I was when I began. When I first arrived I was hesitant to declare all the reasons I decided to join the Peace Corps. I figured mostly that it was a big mix of things, but in actuality, I didn’t quite understand it then and I decided that it was something that may become clearer with time. It has become clearer with time, and while I won’t bore you with the list of reasons, I find comfort in this slow reveal as I begin on a similar journey to try to understand what these past two years have meant. I spent the past few hours reading through old blog posts that I wrote in the first few months after arriving here. I was impressed by my foresight, amused by my naivety, and proud of the courage and determination I had. The trivial things that once so easily knocked me off-kilter seem laughable in hindsight. The foods, amenities, and comforts of home I dwelled on so much now baffle me as I am having trouble remembering what that felt like to be so dependent on those things. In short, things have changed. On March 14th 2010, I wrote about what my post-PC plans had been and how quickly my priorities had changed since arriving. I wrote about the most important thing to me now was being with the people I love. While I still stand by that previous statement (and I believe leaving home has had a major impact on how much I appreciate the people in my life), being here for two years and realizing that those who matter will always be a part of your life no matter where you are or how far away you go, has allowed me to continue to find my way through life without constraints. Though I never anticipated attempting to stay in Africa after my service, as I am now, I did find hints to the possibility that this place meant something more to me and has for some time. An entry from February 19th of 2010 alludes to my first impressions of South Africa: The first thought in my mind after arriving in South Africa is that I missed this continent. There is just an overwhelming presence here that I’ve never felt anywhere else. It’s not really the smell, it’s not really the sounds, it’s not really the feel—it’s everything combined—and even though South Africa is about as far away as you can get from Egypt (and still be in Africa) I felt like I was returning to the same place again. The one thing I will say for sure is that the sky right after sunset, where the blues are striated and the palm trees really stand out, is exactly the same sky I remember in Cairo. While my actual service bears little resemblance to the fantasies I had before I arrived, all of the life-altering, self-reflecting, core-challenging aspects I expected from this experience have come to fruition. I am a much more grounded individual. I have a greater idea of where I want to go in life and what I want out of it. My values have focused to a point where I can now gauge situations against them and gain a much clearer picture of what is best for me. The worldview I had before has become much larger and continues to long for further development. In summation, I have found an inner peace that seems ironic but feels all too destined to be a fluke.

Note: this has turned into a somewhat disheveled piece about my frustration with corporal punishment. Be warned.

Eish, I present another unfortunate story of my failures in classroom management. I reached a new low on Thursday – these intense highs and lows are killin’ me! I was teaching a lesson that was actually fun, brainstorming using topic bubbles. It went really really well with 6C, 6D and 6B [which is normally my bad class as of yet], but once 6A came it went down fast. Out of my 160 learners there are about 30 or so who literally have not one shred of respect for me. In large part this is still due to the fact that I don’t beat them. Sometimes I can manage it, but today they chose to really get out of control. For a double period with 6A I essentially was able to teach nothing. There were 8 or so boys who didn’t care that I was writing their names on the board, or that I would be holding them after school on Friday. I wanted to give a speech at the end of class about their behavior but I choked up too fast so all I got out was ‘your behavior has been outrageous, I am extremely upset.’ Then 6B came back for BIS [library] class, and at this point they didn’t feel like behaving anymore. I was tired and already on the verge of tears so I sat down until they quieted down. Then once I got teaching, albeit with a slightly cracked voice the behavior started, boys jumping out of their seats, getting in fights, kids backtalking me… about four were bold enough to yell at me that I can’t make them stay after school on a Friday [wanna make a bet?!]. During all this chaos one of my learners who is repeating the year [and was a member of the 6C bathroom fiasco of this past November], was literally begging me to go get another teacher who would handle it [note: ‘handle it’ means beating everyone], thus making me feel even more incompetent. The end of that class was not my proudest moment, and culminated in me screaming GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM rather loudly at those boys [which didn’t work even though I screamed it several times, they weren’t done with pestering me] in front of half the class. Thankfully, I found out a couple other friends had an equally hard day. Let’s poll based on the actions we each took: Is it more inappropriate to:a) send kids out of the classroom/home 45 minutes earlyb) scream at learners to leave me be[and proceed to give them until the count of 5 to leave when screaming didn’t work]c) walk out of the classroom with the learners still insideyep, I think I probably took the worst approach. However, options a and c were not in my spectrum – I’d get in trouble for letting them leave early, and if I left the classroom they’d just party even more! Nambles. The rest of the afternoon was spent baking/eating out my frustration in the form of caramel- frosted brownies. At least I can be thankful to have baking back in my life.

So, follow-up. I couldn’t keep the kids on Thursday because of a meeting so I moved detention to Friday. 7 boys were scheduled to be in my classroom, however, of those 3 ran away when the bell rang [can’t trust 11 year olds… they will be visiting the principal tomorrow], and one is discounted because he actually did what he was supposed to right away. Sometimes, when someone in a position of authority at the school feels like it we get out early on Fridays. So towards the end of period 7 of 8 the end-of-school bell rang. Another form of what almost turned violent chaos ensued in Ms. Nowlin’s classroom. I proceeded to press my back up against the door, not allowing anyone to exit until I said so. As this was 6A, learners couldn’t leave until they finished the homework I had assigned, for this is what I told them the day before. This meant that half an hour after school was out the majority of the class was still captive. The institutional workers [aka maintenance staff] were extremely confused. Once I had gotten the majority of those kids out, the war with my 3 detention kids began. They didn’t think I was serious, and 2 almost attempted jumping out of the window to escape me. Thankfully, I was prepared to be calm and firm, despite the fact that I really thought one of them was going to shove me to get out the door. It took about 40 minutes of them yelling at me and me not backing down for them to realize that they were not leaving my classroom until they completed the assignment on the board. At about this time the same institutional worker Tate Shikongo came by and he now definitely thinks I’m weird. He witnessed me standing outside blocking the door saying very firmly “Natangwe you WILL respect me, I don’t care how long it takes, I have nothing but time today!!” Anyway, the score rests on stubborn scale of Nowlin:1 Learners: 0. Of the three boys, I think I got through to two of them. One of these two tried to complete the assignment, at which point I discovered he can’t read or write – sweet, now I understand why he causes disruptions. He also proposed moving another boy away from him so he could focus better! Whooo! The second of these boys ended up crying for 20 minutes… I couldn’t get him to tell me why, but I’m going to assume he can’t read or write either, so now I understand that too. The third…. Matthias, you are on my list buddy. At the least I think I got through to him that he would be staying after school every time he caused disruptions, a fate far worse than being beaten in his eyes.

As an aside, let’s talk about corporal punishment. As I’ve said countless times, it is illegal in Namibia, yet still occurs regularly. This means that while it still happens at my school, legally speaking if a parent were to file a complaint against the teacher that my principal would not be able to defend him/her. In my opinion, corporal punishment will continue in the schools as long as a culture of violence prevails in the country. Stopping violence in the schools, while a good start, is not stopping the extreme violence that many of my kids experience on a daily basis at home, whether they are being beaten by their parents or witnessing domestic violence. It is endlessly frustrating to me to try and propose alternatives because most of the Namibians I have spoken to about this really and truly believe it works. It is just what they grew up with and what they know. My attempts at making alternatives work in my classroom face obstacles when learners who want to help me go tell other authority figures – other teachers who will beat the learners, or on Friday one girl came and told me that she would go to Natangwe’s father for me – to which I responded please don’t! If she goes to him then that detention in which we did end up resolving things will have meant nothing! On Saturday I went to dinner with my new Namibian couple friends – they had his boss over as well, and a conversation somehow came up about corporal punishment and all their experiences. The wife Deli, who is from Botswana, talked about how corporal punishment did actually prove effective in scaring her into behaving. In Botswana, whipping learners is still legal – the child’s parents are called into school and then watch as the principal whips them. Roger and Mr. G [don’t really remember his name] both talked of their experiences as funny memories. Roger recalled it teaching him respect. Mr. G went off on a rant about the one principal he knew of who didn’t allow corporal punishment, referring to all those who don’t beat as ‘wimps.’ [after this was said I could not safely object with my opinions on the practice] He remembered beating his kids to teach them respect. He then told a story that completely and outright rejected his arguments for corporal punishment. I believe it was in an effort to support his defense of beating as long as it is done following strict rules. I find it funny that he did not realize that it was not logical, but nonetheless I will share it.

Back in the day, Mr. G [who is white and therefore attended a white school] had an American classmate, who was called ‘Yank’ by all the other boys. Yank got in trouble every day. He received the maximum three hits during school hours, and three hits after school hours in the hostel every day. None of it seemed to phase him, and he continued to be up to no good, having acclimated himself to being constantly beaten. One day Yank got to school early, and teachers arrived to him warming his hands over a fire he had made. The teachers also warmed their hands a bit while greeting Yank, then continued onwards towards their classrooms. Turns out, Yank had broken into the school and collected all the beating sticks from every teacher’s classroom, and used all of it for firewood. Unfortunately for him, he was unable to break into the principal’s office [which held rods of different sizes, for differing levels of offenses]. Yank had his fun, but still was beaten that day.

While this proved to be a funny story, it also proved the inefficacy of beating! Most of the time the kids who are getting beaten don’t care! It obviously isn’t an appropriate form of punishment if the same kids are getting beaten every day, they aren’t learning anything! Sure, they may quiet down for the rest of the class period, but the next day they’re up to the same old tricks. How does no one realize this madness?!?!?! Ok, rant over.

Seeing as the Patriots (my team) is in the

Super Bowl, there is a need to be informed.

I am from Massachusetts and during my time

in the Peace Corps the Patriots have been

to four Super Bowls and today they are heading

into their fifth.

The first time I was in Leon, Nicaragua and

that was a great atmosphere. The second

and third I was at Kounkane and Kolda,

Senegal respectively.

Number four was at Nadlac, Romania and

the fifth (today) will be 70 km out in the bush

in north eastern Namibia.

The first three I was able to watch it on TV. The

fourth was through an internet live update feed.

To stay updated on this Pats Super Bowl quest,

I am going to be using what you see in the

picture above ... my cellphone with and internet

connection.

I have downloaded an ESPN app that will post

the plays.

I will refresh every minute or so and though it isn't

like watching it on the tube, it will still be exciting

... especially if they win.

It will require waking up at about 4 a.m. here. It's

ok, it's worth it.I am really lucky that I can keep up with the game

out here. It can always be worse.One of the aspects of life that living in the Peace

Corps reminds one of, almost daily.

So I realize I am possibly the least reliable and consistent blogger, I’m sorry to all of you who do read this. I figure because we are now in the second month of 2012 I should update this blog before we get too far into the new year without a single post. Anyways life in [...]

We have just come to the end of Term 1- Week 3, and it again feels

like time is flying! The start of a new term, let alone a new school

year, is quite hectic for the whole country... In these first few

weeks, timetables (schedules) tend to change several times, new

teachers are still arriving to replace those who have left, and

learners are slowly coming back to school from a long holiday at the

farm or village. For teachers, it is an important time in terms of

making first impressions and setting the tone for the classroom (in

other words: laying down the law!).Athletics (Track & Field) is perhaps the one thing that is off to a

quick start, taking precedent over many academic and other things! At

our schools at least, ALL of the learners train for Athletics after

Afternoon Study. And all of the teachers coach, including all the

older (and heavier) ladies at my school!But without the expertise of real coaches and focus on the training of

only the motivated learners (as a result of this exercise being

compulsory for all), Athletics feels quite half-hearted to Kevin and

me... Each day practice starts late and ends early, teachers and

learners "dodge" if they can get away with it, out-of-shape and

unmotivated ("lazy," as they are called here) learners complain about

their every discomfort, ache, pain, thirst, etc so they can quit

practicing and rest. Ironically though, in theory Athletics training

is supposed to be intense because learners only have a few short weeks

to get into shape for competitions after a long holiday of very little

physical activity. We hope that the atmosphere of Athletics for the

remainder of the term will improve after the Interhouse, the meet of

our own learners only competing against each other to determine who

will go on to represent our schools in competitions against others.

We figure that at that time, the least interested of the learners will

be weeded out so those remaining can handle more intense practice.Weather can be an obstacle as Athletics falls in the middle of summer

and rainy season. Regardless, overcast days with some rain are a

welcomed relief from the strong sun and heat. Here at our site, we

are actually quite happy with the summer weather as we realize many

other volunteers in the country experience much more extreme weather

conditions (eg: heat, humidity, flooding). Plus, we find the summer

nighttime temperatures to be quite pleasant. But hey, even without

AC, maybe we are just getting used to it!

Oshikundu is one of my favorite things aside from raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. According to my host brother Immanuel, Oshikundu has been around for hundreds of years. Immanuel is a 15 year old Owambo native, which makes him kind of an expert. He knows what's up. It is a drink made from crushed millet seed which is fermented for less than a day. The result is a carbonated beverage which - when mixed with sugar - makes a sweet, fizzy drink! Almost all of my co-teachers in Endola drink Oshikundu on a daily basis. I do too, and it makes my co-teachers think i'm a weird, integrated Oshilumbu (white person). The content of Oshikundu closely resembles what many of you in America can find in most grocery stores and health-food stores, Kombucha. Kombucha is made by fermenting tea using a SCOBY- (symbiotic culture of bacteria and yeast). You can make kombucha at home but would need a previous generation of SCOBY "mushroom", or culture. Another drink that is very similar to Oshikundu and Kombucha is Rejuvelac, which is made by sprouting whole wheat grains, then soaking the sprouted grains for 48-96 hours to cause fermentation. Contrary to popular belief, neither oshikundu, kombucha, nor rejuvelac can get you drunk... bummer? The alcohol content is less than 0.5% (beer contains upwards of 4%, wine contains 12% or more of alcohol content by volume). The result: a sweet, fizzy drink which contains a ton of beneficial bacteria which aid digestion and improve well-being.... or something like that.

The interesting thing about Oshikundu is how different methods of combining ingredients cause a wide variety of tastes. For PCV's in Namibia, buy a bag of Oshikundu mix (Meme Mahangu brand, it contains millet flour and a small bag of sorghum flour for added taste). The instructions on the bag will say to mix the flour with a small quantity of boiling water (enough to make it "wet"), and let it ferment for 24 hours or so. Then add a specified quantity of water and/or sugar for taste and further fermentation. The Owambo's add boiling water to the flour at night, and also add a little bit of the same-day's Oshikundu to facilitate the overnight fermentation. In the morning, more water is added along with some sugar (which speeds up fermentation).

During PST, i experimented with home-made oshikundu and failed miserably. I thought that the fresh flour would ferment overnight if mixed with boiling hot water. It does not. The result was a flour-ey drink which made me (and Renee too, probably) feel rather ill. After living on an Owambo homestead for quite some time now, I am learning to perfect the ways of the old-school Oshikundu masters. Call me weird but I drink it at school every day and do not feel satisfied without it!

Today was our inner house athletics competition, or track meet as we might say in the states. The learners competed in shot put, high jump, javeline, long jump. And a series of running events. They were divided into a red team and blue team to make it more fun. The red team The blue team. [...]

As part of my continuing effort to help the Tulongeni group to become successful with their new garden, I invited 3 other Peace Corps volunteers to come and put on a workshop. Dan, Dorothy, and Shawn are volunteers in the region and have been working together teaching gardening techniques to people at a community center in nearby Ongwediva. With the help of my translating sidekick, Nico, the 4 of them spent a day with 12 women teaching them gardening techniques that will hopefully better prepare them to tackle the difficult growing environment here in northern Namibia.

Shawn discussing nutrition theory with Nico translating under the community etala

Dorothy and Dan at the garden describing how to construct a planting bed that will allow the roots to grow deep and retain moisture

I’ve been back at site for three weeks now.  It’s strange how much changes from one lifestyle to the other.  Now, the advertisements I see online implore me to “Become an American—get a green card” and remind me, “Do not miss your chance to live and work in the USA” as it shows a Statue … Keep reading →

Lusaka (2 nights) -> Lilongwe (2 nights) -> Senga bay (1 night) -> Cape Maclear (5 nights) -> Nkhata Bay (6 nights)

Lusaka and Lilongwe: I wanted to stop by the capitals of both the countries I'd be passing through just to check them out. Capitals are usually different than the rest of the country and can be fun visits.

Lusaka was nice. I kind of had to stay a couple nights anyway since the bus to Lilongwe left a few days later. First night I met a grad student staying at the backpackers and through her a VSO volunteer. Later I went out with them to an Indian restaurant (why I'm jealous of PCVs in countries east of Namibia) and met a bunch of other VSOs. It was a pretty good dinner and night all around. Definitely enjoyed myself. I think that's one of the reasons I like traveling: meeting people. Well, meeting nice, cool, interesting people - I don't care at all for the pushy, rude people I meet along the way. At the Backpacker stops almost everyone is pretty cheery and avoiding the unpleasant folks isn't too hard to do. This held true for Lilongwe as well. Was actually pretty pleasant getting off the bus as I didn't get immediately hassled by money changers or taxis. Funny thing about Lilongwe: instead of shouting "Hey India!" or "Hey America!" at me, they shouted "Hey Israel!" Good to know I can pass for an Israeli person. All in all the capitals didn't hold too much for me. I mostly used them as resting days and sadly the couple sights i did want to see were closed or my schedule didn't allow for a visit.

As for Senga Bay: Backpackers place was empty and I got a bracelet from a cool guy named Jimmy.

Cape Maclear: Had a lot of fun at Cape Maclear. Getting there was a little interesting. Took a very long and torturous bus ride but finally arrived in Monkey Bay, the place where you catch a ride to Cape Maclear. Arrived in the afternoon and there was no one around, kind of sucked. A guy offered to take me as a private taxi, no thanks, I'm poor. Sadly there wasn't anyone else waiting to share one, or even a Mutola. So that was a little disappointing because I really didn't want to wait around 8 hours or however long it took to get a ride. After about 15 minutes this guy offered to give me a ride on his motorbike for about three times as much as a mutola ride (and I think about the same as a shared taxi). Count me in. We strapped my hiking pack to the tiny rack on the back, guy started the bike and I hopped on the back. Was a little terrified at first as the bike wobbled like crazy but he finally got it under control. I didn't know Cape Maclear was tucked behind a little mountain pass (well, a "hill" pass), that was fun, especially with it being a dirt road with construction.

Anyway, made it to Mufasas (where I stayed) safe and sound and exchanged a lovely awkward goodbye with my newly intimately acquainted driver. I stayed at a place called Mufasas and got a discount because I was going to be staying there for 5 days. Was really nice and made me happy, 50% off :) It wasn't too crowded at first but after a couple of days it became fully booked. There was barely any space on the campground which means lot of neighbours! The second day I was there I got talked into taking a trip out to this island for snorkeling and swimming. At first I wasn't going to go but then the boat guys talked some other groups into it which made it cheaper for everyone, so okay. One of the groups was a bunch of Grad students from the University of Cape Town. They were really cool and a lot of fun to hang out with. And so was the other group which was a family group from Jo-berg. I hung out with both groups a bit afterward. Even went with Langley and his family to Christmas lunch along with another couple from.....Jo-berg? Not sure but Travis and Tori were cool too.

I spent the rest of my time relaxing and reading Catch-22, hilarious (and sad) book. There is an awesome Tea Shop maybe a 10 minute walk from Mufasa. They had an AMAZING Hibiscus tea which I thoroughly enjoyed. I wanted to try and buy some but they were out of packages - all the tea was brought up from Southern Malawi. I think I went there everyday for the last 3 or 4 days - oh, and they had these really good thin oatmeal cookies too. Sucked me in. After I finished reading Catch-22 I started reading some of the more current magazines they had: The Economist and Food & Leisure. Both of them made me yearn for getting back my old lifestyle. I miss cooking nice meals (now being in a town I do have the opportunity for it...just not the cash), visiting places of the arts, festivals, etc. I did get to explore and climb around on some rocks which made me miss that also. Funny part about that was those rocks were right alongside the lake, made to hop onto another boulder and totally whacked my foot or caught a sandal or something, then went straight into the lake. Backpack, electronics and all. Amazingly every has recovered, so that's awesome. Would've pretty pretty entertaining had I been hiking around with someone. I ended up having a kid paddle me back onto the beach in one of the dugout canoes they use for fishing. Made for a pleasant, active and entertaining day.

Nkhata Bay: This is where I was hoping to do some scuba diving lessons but alas that feel through. Was a little sad but then I got to "live it up" instead the last few days with the extra cash I had budgeted for. I stayed at the Lonely Planet "our pick" place: Mayoka Village. Sweet buttery goodness that place is awesome!! It is built into the side of the bay which is somewhat rocky and steep. Definitely got some exercise getting around the place. But walking around the "village" invokes many feelings of paradise and serenity. And all of the staff were so helpful and friendly, was nice to just sit down and chat with them. Also the dinners: divine. They were a little more expensive compared to what you can get at a local place, though just about the same as any restaurant, but the meals were huge and SOOOOO good!

I was able to see Kim and Travis my first night there so that was good, I was really hoping to catch them somewhere in Malawi. Also saw Lindsay and Rachel when we went out to dinner so that was nice too. During the end I saw Lorna and her friend too so I wasn't completely devoid of Nam PCV contact during my vacation :) In between the start and end of my stay at Nkhata bay I hung out with a couple Malawi PCVs and a LOT of Zambian PCVs. It's always a blast meeting PCVs from other countries and always entertaining. For the most part I relaxed in Nkhata too, didn't walk around too much and did a bit more reading and playing games, just mingling with other people. Took a boat and paddled out for a hour or two one day but on the whole just nursed my feet. Oh yeah! So I'm not sure if these were bug bites or infected blisters that broke open but I had some DISGUSTING infected somethings all over my right foot. Okay, well like 3-4 but still gross. They've healed since but I have some shiny spots on my foot now and my right hand has pretty solid scar - or large pink dot with a dark brown circle, your choice. I also met an Australian couple that was really cool. They're on a 4 year or so dream trip. They lived in Sydney and are engaged and were about to get a house but decided to scratch that idea and take the dream trip they've both wanted to. At the end of it I think they're planing to get married in Greece, romantic no? 4 year engagement trip, baller! New Years Eve was a blast too, I spoiled myself with food during lunch and dinner (Beef and Chicken wraps for lunch, Chicken Curry buffet for dinner...probably ate about 5 kilos of food that day...easily) then partied it up at night. We hung around the bar at Mayoka, got in some dance circle action, then headed to a cool place called Kaya Papaya. Had the turnover there and headed back home a couple hours later. A small group of us hung out on this raft they have anchored a little bit off the shore and watched the sunrise come up. It wasn't much because it was super cloudy so that kind of sucked but was fun and the water was still somewhat warm so no complaints. I headed out to travel back to Namibia the next day around noon. Was a little rough not having slept more than a few hours

Arriving in Namibia was nice, though it took a week for my stuff to be moved down from the North. Then after I "moved" to Mariental it took another week for me to get my own place (I crashed at a teacher's house). Add another week for my fridge and stove (at least I have some :P) to show up and I am still waiting on my desk and chair. Not too important but I'd like to be able to work/study somewhere other than my office or bed (the latter I'd like to have not be business related...or would I? zing!).

Anyway, that about sums up my vacation. Pretty good trip all around.

Pictures to come soon for this and the previous post! need to get a bit done and go through all my photos first. Hoping this weekend!

In addition to a Playskool kitchen and Barbie dolls, an Easy Bake Oven is one of the classic toys for little girls. Despite often making cookies with my mom, I still looked forward to using my Easy Bake Oven because I felt like I was baking on my own. It is, I believe, that sense of independence and personal accomplishment that that makes an Easy Bake Oven so special to a little girl. Even today, the “Easy Bake Oven Theory” still applies. After a tiring day at school, the simple act of making the family’s oshithima all by myself, from start to finish – no easy task when neither the flour is measured nor the boiling timed – brightens my day and sends me to bed physically tired but mentally satisfied. Despite the tortures of inhaling smoke for an hour while my eyes burn and my nose runs, the sense of accomplishment that I get from contributing to the family’s chores makes it more than worthwhile. But learning new things should always be a two-way street, so I’ve started teaching the girls on my homestead how to bake. After the last lesson, with the desire for independent oshithima-making on my mind, I suggested that Justina try making a chocolate cake by herself sometime. She eagerly agreed, and a few days later I set her free in my kitchen while I took over the oshithima. I must admit, I was nervous; a year ago, she’d never even read a recipe, not to mention used measuring cups involving fractions, the boogey-monster of the math world. In the end, I had no reason to worry. On her first solo baking attempt, she passed with flying colours. The texture and consistency were correct, all the ingredients included and the batter well mixed. The only hangup was the cocoa powder – 3 t instead of 3 T, but this is a mistake many American adults, would make, not to mention a novice, ESL baker! And the cupcakes still tasted great, which is really what counts in the end. As she was taking them out of the pan, I realized that I needed to capture this momentous occasion, so I tucked one cupcake into the fridge. The next day, armed with my camera, I asked Justy if she wanted a picture. Again, she eagerly agreed – but first needed to bathe and change clothes. So now it is preserved forever: Justy’s first cupcake – the first of many baking accomplishments.

[Afterword: Last night Justy asked me if she could make cupcakes again. There was still some sour milk stinking up my fridge so I consented and she got to work while I stirred the oshithima. After the porridge was finished and I was thoroughly smoky and sweaty, I went into the kitchen to check on her cupcakes. It was a sad but familiar sight: flat, greasy-looking cupcakes. I summoned her in and we discussed what might’ve gone wrong. Just as I suspected - not enough flour. After this, I quoted an important English phrase and life lesson: Live and learn. Next time, I said, she’d get it right.]

As I write I am sitting in the Peace Corps volunteer lounge. Wanting to go home (Outjo) because I’ve been in Windhoek too long but afraid to go home because it is one more step into the unknown. I don’t particularly know why it is all hitting me now, that some of the people that I nonchalantly said goodbye to over the past week may not be seen again for some time. These people that were my friends, family, counselors and sounding board over the past two years. I’m wondering what my impact actually was in Namibia, what have I accomplished here? I’m attempting to figure out where I go from here but the conviction to follow my heart and stay strong when things seem impossible is wearing thin at this particular time. I knew the end would be tumultuous, but I guess I just expected myself to filter things better; however, here I sit…not knowing whether to be excited, to be nostalgic, to cry, to question everything I’ve been doing lately, or to just close it all out and go to sleep. I leave Namibia on March 28th. I guess I have about two months to figure it all out.

Okay, so here I am finally getting around to posting something.

Let's try and start where I left off: end of the school year. It went pretty well. I was actually getting a little sad to leave Tsintsabis but I would say that was "goodbye eyes" kicking in. But because of it I did enjoy and relish the last bits of time I had with the kids and I think they did do - or at least the ones that I got close to. Especially a few of the grade 6 kids, I had about 4-5 of them visiting me everyday in the library for hours. It was actually nice and wish they did it earlier on in the year. I am still hoping to see them when I go back to visit this year - hopefully to get them at one of our camps!

We had an end of the year braai (grill out) for all of the teachers. It was really nice and they even surprised me with some going away gifts. They all wrote little notes and the secretary compiled all of them into a scrapbook. Was so cool! And then Maiya (the other maths teacher) got me a clock and a couple cool things for my kitchen for helping her with some of her class work. It was a good time and I'll definitely miss seeing them around everyday.

So am I missing it actually being away from it now? Definitely, but not too much where I want to immediately go back. Work has been going well here. I've been at the office for two and a half weeks now. It's a very different change of pace being in an 8-5 office versus being in a school where my schedule is very haphazard and flexible. It's a lot more relaxing (in ways) and I can take a lot of things at my own pace. We still have pressing deadlines with lab setups, school/library visits, office computers, etc. but I can do a lot of my work in an order of my choosing. School schedules are pretty set so if I wanted put off a class or topic, well, I couldn't. I had to teach that class.

It's also been a lot more clarifying to me in many ways: what I want to do in the near future, what I do and don't want in my life, what battles I'll choose to fight and which ones I'll let go, etc. I won't go into too much detail because it could sound very...harsh or critical, but I feel it's for the best - even if I am turning into a cranky old man. This is partly why I traveled by myself last vacation. When I heard of the travel plans of everyone, and wasn't sure how my move would turn out, I just decided to fly solo. The thought sounded better as time went on and it was something I wanted to do. I wanted to get out by myself and clear my head. It worked and it didn't.

Vacation blog to follow soon soon!

Oh oh! Check back again later, I should upload pictures to this post and the next post this weekend.

So, rainy season is really putting a damper (ha) on my life. I haven’t showered in a week because the roof of my shower is the sky and how am I supposed to shower when I’m getting rained on? Also I haven’t washed my clothes in who-knows-how-long. I’m on my last pair of underwear because [...]

The new term has started and everything is getting right back on track. This year seems to be starting a lot better than last year. I’ve given up trying to motivate the all kids by becoming a mentor to them. The overwhelming majority just don’t care. I have a few that seem to be following my example though they aren’t in my classes anymore. This year I have grade 8 physical science and math, and a grade 10 physical science. My classes are pretty well behaved so far but it’s early in the year. Last year I made a rookie teacher mistake by being too lenient in the beginning. It’s a lot harder to be a hard ass to a bunch of people you don’t know than you’d think. After getting a taste of undisciplined children last year, it’s become much easier to be a hard ass to the kids. I see the ones who are most likely to cause problems and try to stop it early. Everyone in Peace Corps says your second year gets easier and it couldn’t be truer. I know what to expect from the staff and from the learners. I know what to do if the power goes out. I also know what to do when everything completely changes in the middle of the day for no apparent reason. Last year I tried to be the model of professionalism and certainty, always being on time to classes and being annoyed when a staff meeting went over or started late. I was trying to be the rock in the middle of the river. Slowly, over time, I’ve learned to be a piece of drift wood instead and just go with it. It’s not easy to do. In the US we are so used to the rigidity of our educational system that it’s hard to break into a fluid system.

This rainy season is not like last year’s rainy season. Last year it rained nearly every day and once or twice I woke up to find a seasonal river going through the town. This year the rain has been more sporadic. It will rain about four or five times in a week and then it won’t rain at all for a week. I love the rain here. It slows everything down and cools everything off. The only problem with the rain is when the power goes out but even then you just eat a can of beans and read by candle light.

Athletics (track and field) has begun for the year. The entire school is broken into teams and forced to compete against each other. Even if you hate sports its compulsory. I don’t quite understand why they make it compulsory, but they do. I see the same problems this year that I saw last year. For instance, no one hydrates. Before races the runners are given sugary juices and maybe a Gatorade, but not water. As a result some of the competitors collapse upon finishing the race or right before the finishing line.

Within the first three weeks of school starting we have had two teachers resign from their posts. One was a grade 6-8 math teacher and the other was grade 8-10 life science teacher. This creates a rather large dilemma because both were put on the time table (schedule) and now all the other teachers will have to cover for them. Hopefully we will be able to replace them soon but I’m not overly optimistic. Most likely all of their classes will be given to other teachers and we will continue as normally as possible. However, the other problem is, I leave in October and all of my classes will also need to be divided amongst the teachers. Imagine needing to split three teachers’ workloads on the rest of the teachers at a school. It’s not fun for anyone.

It is FEBRUARY!! What? How can it possibly be February

already?! I have been here for just over 5 months now and I am still

completely into it. I love it! I finally got classes, a classroom and

students! And, so course, I love it! Haha.

I teach three classes, but only two different groups of students. The

two groups are 9B and 11A, at my school grades are split into two

different groups by letter indication. 9B has 39 students and 11A has

32, which brings my total to 71. I teach History (Namibian, African

and World) and English to 9B and just English to 11A. So I see 9B way

more and have made a crazy connection with them already. It’s really

nice. It’s not that I am not connecting with 11A, it’s just that it

hasn’t happened yet. All of the 11th graders are new to our school and

are at completely different levels of fluency, so it makes it hard to

cement a relationship in the classroom early on. 9B has been together

for years, so they already know each other and have just let me into

their circle of trust. The reason why all of the 11As are new is

because here after you pass the grade 10 examination you have a Junior

Secondary Certificate and don’t have to go to school anymore to get an

“education”. If you want to continue on the Senior Secondary

Certificate you go to a Senior Secondary School and take grade 12,

which is split into two years – one of grade “11” and then grade 12.

Even if you fail grade “11” you can go to grade 12 because it is

technically the same exact course. And there is no syllabus or

assessment for grade “11”. They have one test at the end of each year

(and you can fail the grade 11 one) and that’s it. Whereas grade 9 has

CASS Marks (Continuous Assessment Marks) where we as teachers are

required to implement predetermined assessments at set times of the

year based on the generated syllabus and scheme of work (curriculum)

that we receive from the Ministry of Education. Anyway, back to my

original point (sorry!) when you go to grades 11 and 12 you go to a

Senior Secondary School that has a good reputation and pass rate.

Since we just became a Senior Secondary school two years ago we do not

have a good reputation or pass rate, our English pass rate for grade

12 last year was 1.6% - that’s one learner. So we are working on it.

And because of this we receive all of the learners who do not

necessarily perform the best, because that’s how it goes. And grade 11

learners come from all around Ovamboland, so they are new to our

school, community and each other, not on old stomping grounds like the

grade 9s. So, needless to say, the 11s are cautious because they are

still adjusting. It makes sense, and I am trying to remain strict and

open. It will all be fine.

I really like my classes. I get a long really well with all of my

learners and they really like me, haha. I marked (graded) all of their

English books yesterday (yeah, 70 books in one day, it was rough) and

gave them all these awesome stickers that they loved getting - send

more stickers!!! It was a joyous occasion. Then we talked more about

Parts of Speech, and they got grumpy, HAHA! Which brings me to my next

topic: teaching English. I think I was born to be a literacy

specialist or reading and writing instructor – I LOVE IT. AH! I keep

handing out books to children and making them write, write, write!!!!

It’s awesome. Granted I am learning the content the night before

(grammar technicalities and actual ESL teaching) I don’t mind. It’s to

be expected. People who assume that they can teach a language since

they speak it are really naïve, and I haven’t really been there. I

have been in the “oh snap, I have no idea what I’m talking about”

moment, and them googled Parts of Speech (I never really paid

attention to formal English writing and technicalities, I paid more

attention to Mrs. Cochran’s “don’t let rules limit your writing

creativity” philosophy from my own 9th grade English class and never

cared for the rules of it all – but then again I have never cared much

for rules of any kind have I?) Needless to say I have been talking to

my colleagues who teach English and have gotten some good resources to

work with. We are going on to Rules of Concord tomorrow – so we’ll see

how that goes. Haha. I figure that once I get a really good base about

English grammar I will feel a lot better about it all, but right now I

have no idea how teach children how to read and write English – so if

you have any good resources or tips let me know. I need all the help I

can get!! ☺ I know I will figure it out, and I am not getting down and

out about it, but it’s just a reality I am facing. But I am really

excited about how much better I will be with my English when it’s all

said and done. So that’s nice.

We have started a few cool things in class. I have a huge world map up

in the back of the room and they all keep staring at it. They have

never seen the world map, let alone talked about it. So yesterday we

talked about the English language, past and present. We talked about

England and the 2 billion people on the planet who can speak English.

It blew their minds that 20ish countries have English as their first

language, and 70ish have it as their official language. They never

knew they were so connected to the world through learning English,

which was pretty cool. I think my favorite fact was that the amount of

people who speak English as their 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th,

and 10th languages (750 million) is the same as the amount of people

who speak English as their first and second language (775 million).

That’s pretty cool. Planning and marking has been a nightmare, I’m

still trying to figure that out. Because it all depends on the day

before. Will they get to where I want them to be? Will they be where I

need them to be? Did they understand? What do they even want to do?

It’s a juggling act, which all of my teacher friends more then

understand. And this is nothing new to me, the day by day dance – I

just assume it will get easier with experience. Which is fine, but

then throw marking into the mix and everything topples, but we’re

working on that. Marking (grading) is rough because there are so many

learners and I give them daily exercise to do in their workbooks.

Being me I want to edit all of their English, so this takes awhile

with the daily tasks, notes and assignments in their books. And if I

ask for all of them at any point in the week I will have 112 books to

mark in a matter of hours – they will need them for the next day.

Haha. I could do one grade on the weekend and the other on Monday or

something like that. We will see. If you have any thoughts,

suggestions, advice please throw it my way! I will be forever

grateful!

Other then that there is nothing else to report on really, my life is

school and my focus is entirely on my learners and myself right now. I

did meet up with some volunteers this past weekend for some hang out

time. It was nice. Spent some quality time with friends and met a

bunch of new ones. Even met a World Teach volunteer from New

Hampshire! He’s from Durham, and we immediately fell back into our New

England accents when we started talking to each other. He was wearing

a Boston baseball cap and I felt so close to home, it was really nice.

He is only a few kilometers away which is cool. I still haven’t met

the other PCV from Maine, all in due time right?

My host family is great. I have started to help cultivate (garden) our

fields with them. Here in Ovamboland we grow mahango to live off of

for the rest of the year. We make our traditional porridge out of it,

which is Namibia’s #1 food. Everyone here loves traditional porridge.

It’s really hard for me to describe it. It is like a really starchy

paste that you serve with meat and we eat with our hands. It is

typically eaten for dinner every night this way, and I love it! So

without mahango people wouldn’t have food, my family wouldn’t be able

to eat. So I have been gardening, which in giant fields is hoeing out

all of the weeds for hours at a time everyday. It’s how Namibians stay

fit. They cultivate for 5 hours at a time twice a day, and then they

eat mahango to refuel!! It’s awesome. My Tate and Meme are better than

ever, and I have been having a really good time with the learners I

live with. Walking to school, talking about school, giving them a hard

time joking around – we get a long really well. My host sister and I

have really been bonding, we started talking about relationships and

all that jazz – the common female conversation starter here. I taught

her Egyptian Ratscrew the other day, which is a card game, and it was

HILARIOUS. She still doesn’t understand when she has won a face-card

battle, but maybe in time. I taught another one of my learners Uno,

which was hilarious. They are still working on that one.

I have sent a bunch of mail to the USA and have also received a ton of

mail from the USA. More packages from Dad, Ryan and Meg, Aimee and

letters from Jade, and Ashley, I even got the Farmington First sent to

me from Maine! Haha, nice to see my Farmington girls are still looking

out for me!! So I dropped some correspondence in the NamPost box. I

hope it finds you all well.

I know that people are interested in helping out by sending things and

I have a few things on a short list. Paper here is a different story.

Learners have exercise books for every subject that they write in to

keep all of their paper together – they don’t use loose leaf paper

here. I can already tell that I am going to need more with them, so if

you find a sweet deal on exercise books let me know and I can tell

people to send them to me. We have ones that are 96, 72 and 35 pages

here, so anything will really do. For those of you who don’t’ know,

exercise books are basically just Composition Books that have bigger

pages and no cardboard cover. Check a Staples near you! I also need

drawstring backpacks. I know this is weird and random, but they don’t

have anything to put their school stuff into, so they carry books and

6 exercise books around in plastic shopping bags from the grocery

store as they walk the two hours to school, so I really want to see if

I can get something for them. Drawstring backpacks are used all the

time and everywhere here, so if you find any let me know and I can

spread the word!! Other then that I really don’t know right now. There

is no water or food crisis here (and sending food and water is not

good to do anyways) and they all seem to have pens (plus Ryan and Meg

sent me a TON). I have a bunch of crayons, and am still trying to

figure out how to use them. Maybe an Art Club? I don’t need books per

say just yet. We have a library and it could use more books, but I am

thinking of going through Darien Book Aid – if you know of any group

or organization that donates books (the shipping and the tax) then let

me know. If you are sending a package and want to throw a couple Young

Adult Lit books in then by all means go right ahead, but it’s not an

emergency. I don’t need clothes for them, but I think I could use

needles and thread (white, black and grey) for a sewing project. Their

uniforms will get worn out and will need to be mended soon, they wear

the same uniform to school everyday. That’s all I can really think of

right now. I live in an area where people have a lot of resources and

access to the things they need. I know that my village will need help

fundraising for a community center that we will be starting to write a

grant for soon (and we have to raise 25% of the total cost to qualify)

so if you are interested let me know. The community center would help

bring people in my village together, which is essential when there are

things like alcoholism, unemployment, domestic abuse, HIV/AIDS, and TB

all around. People could come together and make life a little better

with a place to go, and I am excited to try and make it happen.

I have heard about recent American happenings (thanks to Ryan Robert

Reed and Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me) and I can say without a doubt that

I might be missing one of the most hysterical times in American

politics, but I am glad I am not there right now because I would

probably just be consumed by the GOP ridiculousness and the social,

economic and political injustice that is happening in our country (if

you didn’t know already I’m not really into wasting time, hurting

people or degrading quality of life). I’m still really happy that

TIME’s Person of the Year was The Protester, that was really cool, and

I am a huge supported of Warren Buffet calling America onto the

carpet, although I still wish he backed up his words by cutting a

check for the amount of taxes he should have paid last year based on

his own thinking. Empty actions mean empty words Warren. The Superbowl

is around the corner and I heard that we might have finally gotten

some snow back home. That’s nice. I know that Jay-Z and Beyonce just

gave birth to the child that will either be the most musically

talented person to ever meet the universe, or who will just be

agonizingly average. And I know that the 7 billionth person was born.

So, I have faith that I am more in touch with what is going on in the

world then most people, and to do that from the middle of the African

desert – while teaching 71 students everyday – is pretty good. And I

guess that sums it all up; I am doing good.

(Insert your preferred goodbye here),

Renee “Nankelo” Scott

PS – Nankelo is my Oshindonga name. It means last-born. Ngame nankelo

moyanegumbo moNamibia na koAmerica. (I am last-born in my family in

Namibia and in America).

Here’s what happened. I jumped right into the term by assigning speeches to my English class and a giving a quiz on multiplication to my Math class. My standards were set a little high, though, because the eighth graders didn’t even know the 2 Times Table, and only 2 out of 38 9th graders showed [...]

After lunch, a quiet settles over the village.  It is baking hot outside, so people take naps inside.  No one is walking around except the goats grazing.  My shirts have dried in the sun and it’s time for me to take them in to fold.  I walk out with my wash basin to gather the … Keep reading →

Empower Women in Africa | Sponsor a Student

Angie is a secretary and EWA ambassador at Nambula Combined School in Uukwaluudhi, Namibia. With the help of a Peace Corps volunteer, they started a girls club in 2008. Angie has continued on her own to empower the girls' lives and create hope and opportunity for brighter futures. Because of her dedication and the evident need for further assistance, we are proud to work with her to bring sponsorship opportunities to their school! They have even sent baskets made by women in the community who recognize the need for funds for the girls. To purchase a basket from Uukwaluudhi to provide more funds for their scholarship program, please contact us at Info@empowerwomeninafrica.com. For more information about our programs and what you can do to help, visit us at empowerwomeninafrica.com or find us on facebook at www.facebook.com We look forward to hearing from you and joining our team to bring more educational and economic opportunities to girls and women in rural Africa. From: EmpowerWomenInAfrica Views: 0 0 ratings Time: 01:59 More in Education

Soooo last weekend apart from intense amounts of sleep, and a 2 hr stint as the only customer at the internet café [why yes, patrons, I did order a brownie sundae all for myself, it was delicious too! I know your stares were more of longing and jealousy than judgment], I went for a hike! This is out of character for me, yet more and more I keep hearing myself say that I’ve hiked… kind of weird. The reason I went on said hike was to see this cool place outside town called 2nd Lagoon. So at around 11, Megan and Leah [the two other PCVs in town from Group 33] and I set out for what turned out to be an adventure. They wanted to take a slightly easier path and avoid climbing up, down, and across the cliffs, so we took a different route. Unfortunately we double-guessed ourselves, and thinking we’d gone too far, turned around and backtracked the other way up the cliffs. I wish I could have taken pictures up there because the rocks were really interesting looking, lots of colors and awesome striping! Also I found some kind of antelope horn! Sadly I learned my lesson of not cliff climbing with camera the hard way… the first time I hiked the cliff behind my house I definitely fell on the way down, camera in hand. It survived, but did sustain injuries to the screen, so now I take mental images and focus on where I’m stepping! Suffice it to say, I felt like I was on the moon because that’s really what it looked like! All the time I trailed Megan and Leah I couldn’t seem to get “Climb Every Mountain” out of my head, despite the fact that I couldn’t remember all the words! After searching for probably twice the amount of time it takes to get there, we found the lagoon. Turned out we hadn’t gone far enough. The sign to the Sperrgebiet we had encountered had freaked us out prematurely – it was the official barrier that we couldn’t cross to the left side of or risk getting into trouble for being in the restricted area. Anyway, this lagoon was awesome, and we watched the water come in as we ate snacks on the rocks, and laughed at the seagulls getting blown away by the intensity of the wind. It was a great way to spend a Sunday, though my legs are extremely sore and I did manage to get sunburned in some weird spots, despite my sunscreen application. Ouch. It was worth it!

On a different note, the Friday before this hike, the Governor of the Karas region called all the teachers from the region to a meeting in Keetmanshoop. I was literally picked up at 3:45 am to make it to the bus, yikes. It was definitely cool to see how many teachers are in this region, at least for the public schools. The Governor highlighted successes [my principal was mentioned for continuously advocating for a new high school to be built in Luderitz!], and made a speech about the state of education in Namibia [not to his liking]. He referred to the Asian system of schooling and how advanced it is, and then went on to say that Namibia must not strive to emulate the US Education System, because even it is dated to the 19th century, so if that is true where is the Namibian Education System?? He estimated 13/14th century. In my opinion, the Asian system is not looking like a possibility here, there are way too many cultural differences in values for that to happen. However, the governor did say that he is going to try to change the hours of the school day to make it longer, which I agree with strongly. Right now it’s from 7:30 to 1:30, that’s it. Most other schools I’ve heard of in Namibia offer afternoon study, but my school doesn’t. The governor said he is going to try to extend the hours until 4. He went on to say that 20 cents out of every dollar spent here goes to the education system, and of that huge amount, 80-90 percent of it is allocated to teacher salaries, which seems slightly outrageous. He stated that if this is to be the case, he expects student performance to be much higher. He also said that poverty is a choice, which was definitely a statement that teachers from my school did not react positively to. There are so many structural factors in play in this country that it’s really impossible to call poverty a ‘choice.’ For his ideas to take effect it seems as if the system will really need to shift to being learner-centered, rather than revolving around the needs of teachers [my opinion]. Hmmm, lots to think about. I'll talk about the super strange first few weeks of school another time, but for now lets just say, of the first 9 days of school the kids came to my classroom for a grand total of 2 days... nambles. Another important update: somehow I have endedup the head coach for one of the three track and field teams [go blue house!],despite the fact that I know nothing about track and field events and can’trun. Even though the other two blue house coaches have participated extensivelyin track events, they are a) puzzled why we don’t have a field and the kids arerunning around on the rocky/hilly landscape instead [newsflash: there is nograss for a field here!!!!] and b] both newly arrived from the north teacherswhere the kids sit in fear and don’t dare make noise, quite the opposite ofthese kids, so their quiet teachers voices just aren’t cutting it. No idea how this is going to work, especially when it comes to shotputs/highjumps/what else is there?? Also, fun fact, athletics are completely finished in mid-February. They also take place during the school day at Diaz Primary, because god forbid we stay after school to do something. apologies for the sarcasm :) needless to say I'm really hoping that we move athletics back to after-school activities, because shortening the schedule to 20 minute classes isn't even worth having a schedule. It's hard enough to get 40 kids to come into the classroom and settle down, with 20 minute classes that leaves maybe 10 minutes of teaching time. Anyway, more updates another time when the internet isn't being flaky, but last fun update: Leah and I made bagels last night, they were just about the most delicious things ever [apart from the homemade tortilla chips we did a couple weeks ago] ok julle totsiens!

- eat peanut butter and margerine sandwiches

- use 3 slices of bread per sandwich and think that 2-slice sandwiches are weird and inefficient.

- take bucket baths twice a day

- drink fermented millet on a daily basis, and not feel satisfied without it

- spend as much time a day listening to music as I do now

- speak (read: *attempt* to speak) Oshiwambo

- know that the Owambo languages existed in the first place

- teach kids that speak little else than Oshiwambo

- rely so heavily on the courtesy of strangers to travel/get around

- ride in the back of pickup trucks with at least 10 other people on a weekly basis

- enjoy chances to use public restrooms

- share food eaten by hand, on a daily basis

- see as many shooting stars, rainbows, or dragonflies

- read as many books

- have to walk through mud (barefoot or with toe-shoes) to get to school

- teach in a classroom with goats, pigs, and donkeys grazing less than 100 yards away

- feel comfortable hitch hiking in lorrie's (semi- trucks)

- eat worms (and enjoy them.. you know, for the loads of minerals they contain)

- eat half as many donuts as I do in Africa (JUST KIDDING!... this is *highly* wishful thinking and day-dream-ey and not good for my sanity.)

- be so aware of the location of my cheap bic pen

- be in Africa

- look forward to the part of the day in which I get to climb trees

- make so many children believe that I know Kung-fu or martial arts (because I'm obviously "a china".)