Here are some updated pictures of the garden. It has come a long way since December (see January post). I was blessed with abundance of tomatoes, cucumbers, beans, radishes, purple bell peppers, carrots, maize, sunflower seeds, flowers, and herbs. Baby papayas have even begun to grow...

No flowers yet... Baby papaya A few months later, fruit is starting to form!

The basil is ready to seed itself.

This variety of green bean is called "lazy housewife." Two points for Namibia for political correctness.

Future pickles! One of about a million jars of home grown and home-made pickles.

The flowers have bloomed and the papaya trees have quintupled in size! Cherry tomatoes

Fresh :)A burst of color. Silly puppy

Another beautiful sunset...

Ed and I embarked on an incredible, month-long journey from Opuwo to Zanzibar. 433 pictures later...

"TO BE HOPEFUL in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.

What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.

And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory."

— Howard Zinn

Does this really work? I have on idea. But its a novel thought...my feelings can be recorded at any given minute. Currently its pouring rain, rara is barking like a dummy and the thunder is booming overhead. Loves it. Now its back to my book! Night night

Does this really work? I have on idea. But its a novel thought...my feelings can be recorded at any given minute. Currently its pouring rain, rara is barking like a dummy and the thunder is booming overhead. Loves it. Now its back to my book! Night night

I apologize for slacking on my blogging duties. I have gotten many emails in the last couple months asking about what I am doing and if I am still alive. To address these inquiries: YES I am alive and well. As to what I have been up to I will touch on the highlights...

1. The measles epidemic is now winding itself out. After a mass immunization campaign and a whole lot of madness, the end is in sight. Thank goodness.

2. Group 29 Mid-Service (yes I have been here longer than a year!) was awesome. I spent 2 days with my group at the Harmony Center outside of Windhoek. I was great to hear all of the awesome and exciting things my friends are working on, and the icing on the cake was being able to hang out by the POOL everyday! We talked a lot about COS (Close Of Service), and even got our COS packets, which was really strange. The general consensus is that the second year goes much faster than the first which means COS will essentially be the day after tomorrow. I have reached the point in my service where its time to start thinking about life after Peace Corps. Whaaaat? How is that possible???

3. I spent a week with the newest Health group (holla group 31) in Okahandja as their Resource PCV. They are truly a great group of people! It just so happens that one of my friends Lindsay is part of the new group, so it was extra special for me. Lindsay and I have only ever lived abroad together, which kind of boggles my mind. We both studied in Siena, and we traveled all over Europe together. She shares my gypsy, vagabond-esq spirit and I am so glad that her journey has brought her here.

4. While I was in Okahandja I went home to visit my family. As luck would have it, my Tate was home as well, and it was great to be wrapped in one of his bear hugs and hear all about the farm. Victoria's command of English has developed so much; the difference between Kinder and first grade is impressive. The boys are nearly eye level. My sister, ever the entrepreneur, has started a business selling perfumes. Mama is well, busy inspiring her students to a new level of success in Science. Turimuye is adorable as ever and regaled me with her entire repertoire of songs which she has recently learned at the Kinder. Virimuye, the little prince, is crawling and scooting around like a champ. During dinner, he carefully scooted himself between Victoria and Turi as they sat eating on the floor. They soon became engaged in a conversation about some silly thing, and while their attention was diverted Viri made his move. Checking to make sure neither was watching, he reached his little fist into Turi's bowl and promptly stuffed a handful of rice in his mouth. Needless to say, he was quickly discovered. The girls squealed and scooted further away from him, only to be stealthily attacked in the same manner just moments later. That went on for most of the meal, and I nearly passed out from laughing so hard.

5. I had a very unwelcome house guest. One quiet Saturday afternoon not too long ago I was walking to the bathroom and I saw something move under my extra bathroom door (my house is very weird in that I have two bathrooms: one which works and one which I use as storage). Realizing something strange was going on, I immediately stopped and took a step back. There, sliding blithely under the door, was a snake. Ed immediately sprang to action; he grabbed the broom and pushed the writhing serpent outside while I held the dog and kept her away from the action. After looking at the snake chart, I am fairly certain that it was either not harmful at all or mildly poisonous, but I did an extra thorough sweep and checked under all of the furniture just in case one of its buddies happened to be squatting as well. For the record, I will no longer be walking to the bathroom in the dark/barefoot.

6. While I was writing that last bit about the snake a GIANT spider just crawled across the floor heading straight for my desk. My office mate slapped it with her shoe and announced that it was only kind of poisonous. Apparently it makes your body break out in a weird rash. The adventures never end around here...

One year in Namibia...

This past weekend marked my one year anniversary in Nam. As part of our volunteer quarterly report, there is a section which asks volunteers to highlight what they have learned. I wrote the first things which came to my mind, and I will share them here now.

I have learned....

that in Africa, things will never happen "on-time" but they will happen in their own time. That I must just be patient. That flexibility is key. That just because something doesn't happen the way I think it should does not mean it won't happen exactly the way it's supposed to. That sitting through 5 hour meetings is an excellent opportunity for personal growth through meditation. That this too shall pass. That an inherited copy of the Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook (circa 1979) is a wonderful read, and an endless source of inspiration for my culinary growth. That grocery stores in America are ridiculous with their 20 types of cheese, 50 kinds of bread, and other endless packaged food choices (thats the jealousy talking). That I can make from scratch or grow almost everything I truly need. That my definition of "edible" has expanded greatly. That watching my dog run around, watching my garden grow, watching children play a pick-up game with rocks, watching a storm blow in, and watching the landscape change with the seasons are all exponentially cooler than watching television. That family is the greatest gift. That water should never be taken for granted. That I am fortunate, because whether the water is off for 8 hours or 8 days, it will eventually return; it may not come when I need or want it to, but eventually it will come. That I must trust in the Universe...it has cared for me up to now, and I hope that it will continue to do so. That Peace Corps Volunteers are the greatest; they will come and beat-box original songs for you when you are too sick to move, share awesomely bad diarrhea stories, and are capable of devouring a giant tub of ice cream in a matter of seconds. That time moves incredibly fast. That I have so much still to learn...

I just wanted to share some photos of the Mother Bear distributions I recently facilitated. Mother Bear in a Non-profit in the USA which sends beautiful, hand-crafted bears to children in Africa who have been affected by HIV. Volunteers knit and crochet the bears in the States, then Mother Bear packages and ships them around the world, so that they can be distributed to children in need. Mother Bear asks that the bears not be associated with any religious or political messages, they simply want children to know that there are people in the world who love and care about them.

I learned about this program through the Peace Corps grape-vine, and about a month after contacting the coordinator, two huge boxes arrived full of beautiful bears. They were distributed to the children in the Omapitiro Weyuva OVC class in Opuwo, as well as to the Sunshine OVC orphanage in Khorixas. Participating in this project was wonderful. It was humbling to watch the children's faces light up. Some had never had a doll or toy to call their own...

Sunshine OVC Orphanage:

Omapitiro Weyuva After-School Class:

Special thanks to Folo and Ernst for assisting with the distributions, Dave, my awesome driver, and Amy from Mother Bear for making this all possible.

Cheers! :)

Measles has brought Opuwo to the forefront of National attention this week. On Tuesday, Health Minister Mr. Richard Kamwi and a delegation of high ranking officials from UNICEF and WHO arrived in Opuwo. Their goal was to lend their expertise in the crisis where possible, and to bolster National awareness of the situation here. To date, we have 1, 0 51 measles cases reported, and 15 deaths. As Minister Kamwi pointed out during the press conference he held yesterday evening, the fatality rate is relatively low (about 1.5%) compared to the expected 3-5% seen in many other developing countries, which is a sign that our case management is successful.

In his speech, the Minister pledged to avail all resources necessary from the National level Ministry of Health and Social Services so that Kunene Region can "bring this epidemic to its knees." Over the course of two days, he traveled to a few areas of the Kunene Region so that he could speak directly with staff members and experience the epidemic on the ground. What he discovered were issues such as chronic staff shortages due to the extreme rural setting of some of the health clinics, low immunization coverage in areas where clinics do not have access to EPI fridges or electricity (we have many such clinics), and the extreme terrain which is characteristic of Northern Kunene Region.

Today Minister Kamwi is out in the field again, speaking to health workers on the ground. It is possible that this visit will be the catalyst which Kunene Region needs to upgrade health facilities and increase outreach services. The Minister informed the delegation that 15 4x4 off-road vehicles will be allocated to MOHSS Kunene Region in order to help the 3 health districts (Opuwo, Outjo, and Khorixas) expand outreach services.

The delegation will also sit later this week to draw up a micro-plan which will help our region expand routine immunization coverage from the current 60% or children covered up to the 90% which UNICEF recommends. This could mean a major overall reduction of serious childhood illnesses.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, and hopefully the awareness raised from our situation here will help the Ministry of Health expand health coverage, as well as help parents better understand the importance of vaccinating their children.

My little garden is well underway (thanks for the seeds mom), so I figured I should share some phoooooootos...

Sowing the seeds...

The bottom half of 2 liter bottles make nice containers for starting herbs.

More planting...here's to hoping something can live in this rocky soil!

Just add water!

The seeds are in, now its time for the trees :)

2 papaya's (jagged leaves) and a little guava (narrow tapered leaves). They are N$ 5 each (thats less than $1 US dollar) at the Ministry of Agriculture nursery :)

Little trees...lets hope the goats don't eat 'em!

Rain, rain. The first bean sprouts and cucumbers have broken through the soil.

Future pickles!mmmm pickles :)

Little dog, big bone.

Maize (thats corn!)

Ed found some herb mix in Windhoek. The package did not specify what type of herbs, but it turns out CILANTRO is one of them! I can't wait to make some homemade salsa!

Sprouts: Cherry tomatoes (far left), followed by radishes and parsley, green beans (along top), sunflowers (center), cucumber sprouts, and maize.

Side view...bell pepper sprouts are nearest, followed by cucumbers (left), sunflowers (running up center), and green beansssss (right).

Rara wearing her fancy new tag.

Ed surprised me with some lovely flower seeds. Can't wait til they bloom.

The papaya was looking a little rough at first, but the new leaves sprouting at the top are a great sign.

Whittling a steak for the beans. They are starting to get big, so they can use the extra support.

Its so amazing watching things grow. I remember endless summer days spent in the garden at my dad's house. We raised so many wonderful fruits and veggies in an environment that was nearly as intense as the desert I am living in now. The trick is water. I was probably the only 9 year old on planet earth to be fascinated with drip water systems, but in hindsight I think it was because I understood in some fundamental way the necessity of water. Of course, I don't have any fancy rainbird system here. Watering is done with a makeshift watering can--a 5 liter plastic bottle with holes punched in the top. It works remarkably well, and I like that it is both functional and eco-friendly. Hopefully soon, some veggies will appear :) I'll keep you posted.

peace.

Our rains have come late in Opuwo. During "normal"years, the first rainy season typically arrives in October-November. It is now nearing the end of January and the rains are just getting started. Rain is such a blessing here...it cuts the humidity of the day, saturates the parched ground, and replenishes the spirit as well. It is amazing to sit out on the porch in the evening when the storm is gathering energy. First the intense gusts of wind strike, slamming any doors and windows casually left open. Then the thunder bellows off in the distance, usually only seconds before the drumming can be heard; here you almost always hear the rain before you see it. As the storm travels through the valley, the pounding water beats its way across every tin roof it encounters, like military drums announcing the approach of war. Only the toughest plants survive the pounding. Then, just as quickly as it came, the noise ceases, and the land echoes in a damp silence. Its magical, the sound of the rain falling. After only a few weeks the entire town is painted in shades of green and large pools have formed on the ground which will stay with us until the next dry season.

A storm approaching town.

Greeting in 2010!

I hope everyone had a safe and happy holiday season! Mine was lovely, and I will share the highlights now...

Over the holiday, Ed and I packed up and headed off to the far North of my Region where we hiked along the Kunene River, which separates Namibia from Angola. The adventure began normally enough. We left mi casa quite early and set off for the hitchhiking point. It was about 20 minutes before we came across a fellow who happened to be going the same way, so we quickly threw our bags in the back, squished tightly into the front passenger seat, and our driver sped off. After taking a few moments to settle the dog, we took stock of the ride: travelling in the back of the bakki with us was a boy, a goat, and the apparatus they use for moving coffins. Our ride was, in fact, a hearse. Still, it was a nice bakki (and relatively new) so it didn't seem quite as creepy as one might suppose.

Anywhoo, after travelling along for about 20 minutes, we came to an abrupt halt. As is common around the holidays, the Namibian Police had set up a road block to check the identification of people entering or leaving the area.

After inspecting the driver's registration and other documents they demanded to see his permit to move livestock. Apparently, anytime you transport any livestock in Namibia you have to carry a certified letter stating that the headman has released the animal, and specifying the places it can be taken. The letter our driver was carrying allowed the goat only to be taken to the Opuwo area and not out of the region, which led the police to question whether the goat was legally obtained. SO that was a problem.

The other problem was that the office which handles these letters would not open again until the following morning, which meant that our driver either a) had to take the goat back to Opuwo and spend the night so that he could sort things out with the appropriate people, or b) he could surrender the goat at the checkpoint and carry on. Option c) involved him paying a fee of Namibian $300 so that he could carry on, but as the police officers pointed out, such a bribe would only get him through their checkpoint. Taking into consideration he paid N$ 300 for the goat in the first place AND he would likely get stopped at the next checkpoint, option c) was not so viable. Quite a dilemma.

While the driver was going around and around with the police, a local minister happened to approach the checkpoint heading the same direction we were. Being the loyal customers we are, Ed, the random kid from the back, and I quickly grabbed our stuff, climbed in with the Minister, and waved farewell to our goat-smuggling driver from the comfy back seat. Once again we were on our way to adventure. The minister was only travelling as far as the major turnoff, so after a very peaceful and uneventful ride, he dropped us on the main road, refused to let us pay, and bid us farewell.

While waiting for the next car to pass by, we entertained ourselves by inspecting a roadside pit latrine, investigating a giant termite mound, and doing a bit of bird watching. Before too long the rumbling of tires could be heard on the tar road, and we started to get excited...someone was heading toward Ruacana. We were both a bit surprised when the truck ended up being the same one we got our first hike in...only this time the driver was alone. Abandon by his passengers, and on a deadline to reach the funeral, he decided to ditch the goat at the checkpoint. He was clearly a little bummed about it, but luckily he was not the type to hold a grudge as he was more than willing to pick us up and take us the rest of the way.

Once we hit the Ruacana junction, we had lunch under a tree and started walking. Somewhere along the way a car stopped for us, and gave us an unsolicited ride to the airport (i think people were confused about seeing two white people and a dog with large bags walking...) and from the airport we got another hike to the actual falls.

Unfortunately for us, the water was not flowing at the time. Judging by the sheer vastness of the free space for water to flow, I reckon that the falls would be incredible when they are actually flowing. Apparently the water is only turned on when Nam has need for extra electricity, so I am hopeful that one of these day the alarm will sound and the water will surge. But I digress.

We spent some time gazing over at Angola, then walked down to the falls and enjoyed the splendor. Well almost. At almost exactly the same moment we were struck by raging stomach cramps. Must have been something we ate (the night before our trip we bravely consumed all perishable objects in my fridge so that nothing would be wasted...probably not the greatest idea, as some of the items were questionable at best). Whatever the culprit, we were both scrambling into the bush. But once all that was over with, we moseyed on down to the would-be falls and enjoyed the view. From the falls area, we got a hike out to the road from a nice Afrikaner family who happened to be heading in the same direction we were. They were kind enough to give us a lift for free, and they even gave us a giant cool drink to enjoy for the ride. The generosity of people continually surprises me...

From the place where the family dropped us, we began walking along the river. The route was so gorgeous, but the most amazing part of the whole trip was the people we met along the way. Each night we camped next to tiny villages, and the locals were kind enough to show us safe places to get water (crocodiles are famous for attacking people here), and gave us permission to camp near their homesteads. Women traveled out of their homesteads to greet us, and people occasionally walked along the road with us, just to keep us company.

The sun was scorching, but we were blessed with a couple overcast mornings and some incredible thunder and lightning storms at night. Here are some photos from our journey...

The area near the river where we camped the first night.

The villagers place branches along the river's edge to keep crocodiles from attacking their children and livestock.

Rara and I resting under a tree in the heat of the day.

The morning after an intense rainstorm. Each morning we set out before daybreak to travel as much distance as we could before the hottest part of the day.

On the red dirt road.

For our afternoon nap, we found safe, shady places near the river...

Ed relaxing under a tree during a quick snack break.

This is a mobile school we found out in the middle of NOWHERE. The teacher stands in the front and the children sit on the floor inside of the tents. You can see their school work on display.

Ed's twin brother. We saw lots of monkey. Rara had a good time chasing them around.

Morning snack break. This picture makes me laugh.

Camping. Rara slept for a solid 2 days when we got back.

My blood-stained Chaco...apparently my foot burst open but I was too distracted by my ankle to notice. I thought the blood stain looked bad, but Ed said it made me look hard core. Haha Darn walk...you made me bleed me own blood.

Resting.

We were forced to cut out trip short by a couple days due to an unfortunate mud incident which left my ankle throbbing and sore, but all in all our trip was fantastic! While waiting to get a hike back out to Opuwo, some random dudes drove by a couple times, and because they didn't want us to wait for a ride, they decided to make an impromptu trip all the way to Opuwo...they were so kind to us and thanked us profusely for coming to Namibia to volunteer. It really was such a kind thing of them to do, and we were both pretty amazed at the gesture. If you are interested in seeing more pictures of the trip you can find them here: http://picasaweb.google.com/ewyni119/ChristmasHikeWithAnika#

Cheers!

OK so I forgot to mention the other best. The one that beats all others--waking up every morning knowing that I am in Africa. Yep, its a dream, and I am so happy I'm living it.

So, my sister asked me yesterday how Christmas is celebrated in Namibia...

I can't speak for everyone, but most of my friends and colleagues travel back to their villages. Everyone gathers together, cooks food, celebrates milestones (births, graduations, promotions), and generally has a great time. Even though temperature-wise it doesn't feel like Christmas, the joy and spirit of the holidays is alive and well here. Some people do get Christmas trees, but instead of coming from a lot in front of Home Depot, the trees here are of the plastic variety and come in boxes from PEP Store (the Namibian version of Wal Mart). My friend's seven year old daughter has been waiting patiently all week, because she knew today was the day they could go "pick out" their tree. Adorable!

This year I will be celebrating Christmas by hiking the Namibian Riviera, the scenic route spanning the area between Ruacana Falls and Epupa Falls. It is an extensive journey, and I will try and post pictures as soon as possible! Merry Christmas to you, my family and friends.

Much love....Ani

A dear friend of mine asked me today what the best and worst part of this experience has been.

The best part so far?

The people I work with. The ladies I work with at the Ministry of Health inspire me every day. Their passion for healthcare and their determination to help people despite the mountain of challenges they face is astounding.

The incredible contrast of the landscape. Namibia...oh Namibia. Beeeeeautiful.

My host family. Even though I no longer live with them, they continue to be a source of love and strength despite the 800 some-odd kilometers between us. They are facing a difficult time at the farm now because the rains have not yet arrived, and yet they continue to be positive and uplifting. They are amazing.

The sound of rain falling on my tin roof at night. Its so soothing.

The African sky. You have to see it to believe it.

The worst part:

The heat some days. Uugh.

Giant mosquitos. Most nights they are so bad that they make an audible buzzing noise which echoes from the ceiling; the entire room hums with their presence. Its really bad when I'm sitting on the toilet and there are hundreds of them swarming around me. And heaven forbid an unfortunate toss or turn during the night leaves one of my limbs pressed against the mosquito net--it results in massive swelling of said body part due to thousands of bites in one concentrated area.

Flying cockroaches. Yep, you read that right. Its something out of my worst nightmare. Most people have an irrational fear or two...mine just so happens to be cockroaches. I know they can't hurt me, and yet they still gross me out. They are disgusting in the states, where they only scurry around on the floor. Here, they dominate both land and air. -Insert dry heave-

Not knowing if I am making an impact. Some days I get disheartened. At this stage I have plenty of "What am I doing here? Can I really change anything? Am I really making a difference..." moments. It comes with the territory, and I simply try to weather the tide.

Missing my family. This is a BIG one. As crazy and weird as my family is, they are an incredible group of people. I miss sitting in the garage shooting the shit with my stepdad and hearing about whatever his new project is (building shelves for his gun cabinet, planting a new round of peppers in the yard, remodeling some random thing laying around his garage). I miss snuggling with my mom under the afghan my grammy made, watching timeless old movies on TCM. I miss spending days with my sister Keri shoveling snow, watching movies, admiring her photography, and walking to our favorite sammich place. I miss romping around in the Burb with my brother, laughing til we want to vomit, eating obscene amounts of Del Taco, and having him blow foul smelling air up my nose through a straw while I'm trying to sleep. I miss beating up my brother Eric (who is, at heart, a big bucking chicken). I miss waking up to the sound of my dads guitar, and the smell of Ma's coffee and pancakes drifting into my room with the first morning light. I miss spending endless winter days watching the snowflakes fall from the windows in our Big Bear house while surrounded with some of my best friends on earth. I miss the sound of my little sister Bayli's laugh, I miss reading with her, and tucking her in to sleep. I can hear her little voice saying "commme hereeeee" for her thousandth goodnight kiss.

The last one is the hardest of all. Still, it all balances out and I wouldn't trade this experience for anything.

Until next time...

One of my favorite poems by Robert Frost:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

750 cases of measles have been reported in Opuwo district to date.

Seven hundred and fifty. Thats a BIG number.

Looking back two months to the beginning of October, we had 37 cases. At the time we were panicking, wondering how we could contain the outbreak. Our first line of defense was an immunization campaign. Over 800 children were immunized over the course of a week, which we considered a great success. As a second strategy, we set up a treatment center where patients could be kept in relative isolation, which was also a positive move. As a third line of defense, we carried out a mass social mobilization/awareness campaign to help inform the community about measles. And yet the cases continue to rise.

Its disheartening. Despite our efforts on various fronts, this epidemic cannot be quelled. We currently have teams out in the field treating sick villagers and immunizing children, but as one of our physicians pointed out today during our meeting, isolation is key. It is also nearly impossible in this area. People live in very close family compounds, and the highly infectious nature of measles thrives in such conditions.

The key challenges:

1. Measles is a highly contagious disease spread through close contact via mucous droplets. In my area, most people live a communal lifestyle where many family members are sharing one small hut.

2. Measles is contagious for a relatively long period of time (starting around 4 days before the rash appears, up to 4 days after the rash appears).

3. Most of the Himba and Zemba people (adults and children alike) are not immunized. In some areas of Southern Africa they have carried out mass immunization campaigns, but we were strictly instructed to only carry out target immunization (age 9-59 months). This has left a vast majority of our people unprotected.

4. The Himba move frequently. Despite the fact that people are ill, they continue to travel to other villages and areas. This will be amplified during the holiday season, as many people will be travelling to distant villages to see their relatives, and people working in other areas of Namibia will return to their villages here.

5. Some of our health workers were never immunized against measles. Recently, one of our key health workers who frequently treats patients at the treatment center contracted measles.

6. We have a long-standing shortage of transportation (and resources in general).

So this is where we find ourselves--fighting an uphill battle. The interventions we have in place are quality, and our patients admitted to the hospital are well cared for, but ultimately we are powerless to stop the spread of the disease. We will continue to immunize, we will continue to treat, but ultimately this epidemic has to run its course. Its a hard reality, particularly because in the last week 4 more children have passed away. Three of the deaths came from a village called Okatumba: two children passed away before they reached the hospital and one died in our Casualty ward (ages 8 years, 5 months, and two months respectively). The latest case was an 11 month old baby girl.

If you can, I simply ask that you send positive thoughts our way. I am a firm believer in the power of setting an intention, whether through prayer, meditation, song, or any other way.

Okuhepa tjinene (thank you)...

Today, while waiting in line at OK Grocery to have my mango weighed, a Himba man pushed up next to me with his cart. His eyes met mine, and his brusque voice was as course as gravel as he greeted me in Otjiherero. It was clear that he did not expect me to respond, but as I returned his greeting his entire demeanor changed. He asked my name. I responded in Otjiherero. Then he smiled as he turned to his friend,"Ingwi omuhinga kohimba, omuhinga kotjirumbu" (roughly translated to "this one is half Himba, half white person"). That made me laugh out loud.

It feels good when people are proud to see their culture reflected in someone traditionally considered an "outsider" (thats me). Back in training, Ashley and I dressed in full Herero dress for the Herero Festival in Okahandja. Our picture made the newspaper, as well as the National Namibian news broadcast. During the ceremony, one of the dignitaries was giving a speech, and suddenly pointed Ashley and I out in the crowd. He used the fact that we had dressed up to encourage people to be proud of their traditions. It seems strange but we somehow imparted an extra measure of worth to their practice simply by showing up and taking part in it. Powerful stuff.

At any rate, I think being Himba would be a lot cooler in the sense that wearing 7 layers of fabric and a big heavy hat in 110 degree heat is pretty rough. I respect and admire the Herero tradition, but I'd gladly take the ocher and skins any day of the week...

I would just like to say a few words about Crazy Bill...

The first time I met Bill was at our neighborhood 4th of July block party. Though many years have passed since, I will never forget him that night. He ran down the street holding fireworks in his up-stretched arms shouting with joy. Most of the onlookers were terrified that he would burn himself (I'm pretty sure that he had no hair on his forearms after that night), but he just kept on running. That's Bill though. If there is an expression that characterizes him, its "balls to the wall." I can't imagine Bill ever doing anything halfway.

He passed away during the annual camping trip which our families have gone on for the last 7 years or so. His bike was in 4th gear, and I wouldn't expect anything less. My heart breaks for his daughter Jillian, who will grow up without her Daddy. I understand the accident occurred just moments after he said goodbye to her.

Bill was always the life of the party. He had an innate ability to get people excited, and he cherished time spent with his family and friends. And he loved hauling ass on his dirt bike.

The only light in this tragedy is that his strong, healthy organs will live on in others who are in need. I hope that the recipients will find the same enthusiasm and lust for life that he shared with so many.

Cheers. You will be missed my friend...

When I first told my mom about my Peace Corps assignment she shared with me an interesting tidbit about the history of Peace Corps. When Peace Corps first began back in the 60's, apparently they ran a series of advertisements showing volunteers "digging in the dirt." There are some people from that generation who still associate Peace Corps service with said activity. Of course Peace Corps has evolved with time and volunteers now serve all over the world in a variety of capacities such as Education, Community Health, Small-Enterprise Development, and Youth Development to name a few. But I think the sentiment is still the same. Peace Corps is very much about working at the grass-roots level of development; volunteers live in their communities, and work one on one with their communities to illicit positive growth.

At any rate, she had a good time teasing me about it.

Recently, The Red Cross community garden benefiting the Orphans and Vulnerable Children of Opuwo had about 50 trees donated. In order to help get them all in the ground, I volunteered to assist in the "soil preparation" which basically involved Ed, Tate Haibundi, and I spending days digging a bunch of huge holes (at least one arm wide by one arm deep), and then mixing countless wheelbarrows full of manure and sand in with the soil. More than once I was struck by the irony of the activity--after all of my lofty explanations about Peace Corps development approaches, here I was in Africa digging in the dirt. Life is funny like that. So it turns out that the stereotype is sometimes right mom. Hope you have a good laugh :)

Little Blaundina had a great time helping out...

After digging the holes, the trees were planted and sticks put in place to protect them from grazing livestock...

Hopefully these little trees will grow big and strong!

Cheers!

Meet Parabuthus capensis.

I discovered this little fellow in my doorway recently, so I snapped a quick photo. Yesterday, while waiting for a meeting to start, I was browsing through a pocket guide to Spiders and Scorpions of Southern Africa and I came across a picture that looked remarkably similar. I compared the photo in the book to the picture I took, and thus made the identification. Turns out this is one of the most toxic scorpions in Southern Africa, and "is responsible for a handful of deaths annually."

Awesome. Lets hope he doesn't have any more friends nearby!

Here is a link to the photos from our recent trip North....hope you enjoy!

Okuti onguza...the vast emptiness

Just a quick update on our ongoing Measles outbreak: we now have 528 cases of Measles reported. Eek. The number continues to rise, and the demographic has shifted slightly. Currently our most affected age groups range from 0-10 years, and we also have a high number of cases in the 30-45 year range. Of course at this point all age groups are affected, but those are our two largest clusters.

In other news, National elections begin in Namibia this Friday (11/27). There have been a couple isolated incidences of violence in a few areas in the North of Namibia, but by and large things seem peaceful. Peace Corps is taking every precaution, and I am confident that everything will be fine. The last two elections Namibia has held have both been peaceful, so hopefully this time around will follow suit.

Keande nawa, and I will update when I can...

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving! What the heck? Things I am missing out on this year: turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, stuffing, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, rolls, and stuffing. Ohhh and pie. Did I mention stuffing? Aside from all of the food, I really miss my family. I hope everyone is well, and I cant wait for the next time we will all be together again.

I leave you all with a picture taken during our Turkey day celebration in Opuwo. You know I always keep it classy!

Cheers! :)

"I cant tell you not to go, but please don't go."

Not the most reassuring words in the English language. Particularly when uttered by the commanding officer of the Police just before we set out on a whirlwind adventure. His next words soothed us though, "If we don't hear from you by Saturday, we will send out a search party." Thats good to know.

With newfound confidence in our task, my three colleagues and I set out into the vast wilderness characteristic of this region. The characters: Barbra, the Chief Health Inspector for Opuwo District, Michael, our Health Informations Systems Specialist/nurse, David, our IT-savy driver, and myself. Our task: to travel to a village in the far North-West of Namibia where 10 people had reportedly died from Measles. Armed with a photocopied map of Northern Kunene region, three leaking plastic jerry cans of water, a mountain of mosquito nets, countless satchels of water-maker, a massive coolbox full of vaccines, and three mostly-intact fuel cans, we were ready for anything. Our route was clearly defined; the red ink from a ball point pen our trusty, albeit vague, guide. Very few people had ever successfully completed this journey and the only directions we were able to lock down were, "Follow this road until you think you reach a place called Orupembe. From there keep driving and you will reach a red drum, then a blue drum, followed by an Orange drum. Take the pathway to your right and continue until you can't go any further."

In this instance, the word "road" was used quite loosely. We had about five minutes of tar road, then about 10 minutes of decent gravel road conditions, and by the time we were 50km outside of town I was puking in a plastic grocery bag in the back of our enclosed bakki. The copious vomiting was largely due to the rough, bumpy, winding road on which we were travelling, although in hindsight I'm confident that the petrol fumes seeping out of one of our leaky fuel cans didn't help matters.

Road sickness aside, the route was incredible. As we headed North, the landscape gradually changed from the dense Mopane forests, to deep sandy riverbeds and steep rocky mountain crossings. After a particularly difficult, rocky pass, we emerged on an open savannah punctuated by tall, graceful ostriches. The open grasslands stretched for countless miles, only ending at the base of the tall mountains surrounding us on all sides. The only sign of human life was the narrow road down which we were travelling.

The first day we passed only one other vehicle. As nightfall approached, we finally reached a "town," the extent of which was a small shabeen (bar) and a police station. Hooray for civilization! The officer on duty suggested that we continue to a nearby camp, where we could rest for the night so that we would be nice and refreshed for the second leg of our journey. Since there is no telephone service in that part of the country, let alone cell signal, he promised to radio the Opuwo police and inform them that we had made it that far.

It was dusk when we finally reached our destination. The "camp" was an abandoned rest area peppered with a few broken down bungalows long since condemned; its only amenity an open air brick latrine with squat toilets. It was situated in the heart of an old blasting zone (what they were blasting for is anyones guess). We set up our makeshift camp in the dark of night, and fell asleep fast, too exhausted to even eat dinner.

The next morning we rose before dawn, packed up our tents, and set out just as the sun was rising over the mountains. The most difficult part of our journey lie ahead; our first obstacle was a steep mountain crossing hugged tightly by sharp rock outcroppings and drastic canyon drops on both sides. Bouncing along the road, I was struck by a sense of awe and wonder at the beauty of the scenery. It was a new side of Namibia, and the fact that I was one of few people to ever see this part of the country was not lost on me. At times it was necessary to stop the vehicle and survey the route, but by some miracle we made it successfully through. Little did we know that the real challenges were still awaiting us. After clearing the mountain pass and traversing a few uneventful kilometers, we reached our greatest challenge: SAND. We had entered the no-mans-land of the far North-West.

We reached the sand trap in the heat of the day. The intense winds coming from the coast blew long sections of sand across the sparse earth. The valley surrounding us was arguably one of the most barren landscapes on the planet. We found ourselves stubbornly pushing our bakki out of the sand in the Namib Desert in the heat of the day. After a few minutes David was able to get enough momentum to keep the vehicle moving forward and he carried on for a ways without us. Micheal, Barbra, and I began slowly trudging through the sand, alternately complaining and rejoicing over the insane situation in which we found ourselves.

In time, we caught up with the vehicle. David had made it a few kilometers before getting stuck in the sand again. At this point we saw the only other vehicle we would pass on our journey: a large 10-seater Land Cruiser. It was on its way from the lodge where we were headed to some invisible airport deep in the desert. There were 8 smiling white faces on board, and they seemed sympathetic to our plight and yet excited to be leaving on their chartered flight. The chap driving suggested we air down the tires, and told us that if we were still there when he returned he would help tow us in.

The airing-down worked, and with a little more heave-ho we were soon on our way. As we moved further North toward the boarder of Angola, the landscape became even more desolate. The sparse grass was replace by large sand dunes, and towering mountains surrounded us on all sides. The grass that could survive was so sparse and small that it was difficult to imagine that the springbok we occasionally passed could be sustained by it.

In time we reached a Himba village on the top of a large outcropping. We stopped and greeted them, ascertained our bearings, and proceeded to distribute mosquito nets, water maker, and jerry cans to the people staying there. We also gave some health education about Measles, and promised to return to vaccinate the children. It was at this time we were met by a man on a quad bike; he had been radioed at the lodge and informed that we were stuck in the sand. Finding us free, he proceeded to lead the way to the camp. We started up a steep hill, the road largely lost in a deep sand dune. He knew the way, and carefully led us through a series of passes, which culminated in an intense final descent. We were perched on the edge of a monstrous sand dune and the only place to go was down.

The sand rushing past my window was falling at an equal rate with the vehicle, which may of may not have been cause for concern. The stark panoramic views were incredible; wide barren valleys intersected vast mountain ranges and for as far as the eye could see there was nothing but desert. By some divine grace, we made it down the pass, and from there it was only a short distance to the lodge.

As we turned the last bend, life burst forth. The Kunene River, rich and abundant with flora, was a startling contrast to the vast emptiness around it. The quadbike led us to the staff area of the lodge, where we were greeted by a nice gentleman holding a tray of cold towels, and a lady offering us ice cold beverages. We were filthy and sweaty, and yet the staff treated us like we were their esteemed guests. They served us lunch on a patio overlooking the Kunene River, during which time the manager informed us of the situation in their area.

This particular lodge is part of a larger system of game lodges stretching all across Southern Africa. Nestled in the junction where the Skeleton Coast wilderness meets the Kunene River, it boast being the most geographically isolated, and therefore one of the most exclusive lodges in the world. Visitors to this lodge reach their destination exclusively through chartered planes, and the going rate to stay is around 1000 USD per person per night. In exchange for the exorbitant fee, guests are treated to exclusive river tours, quadbike excursions to the Skeleton Coast and the surrounding dunes, beautiful wilderness drives in their stately Land Cruisers, excellent food, and panoramic views in all directions. However, because the lodge is built on communal land, they also have a responsibility to care for the local indigenous people in the surrounding area. One of their responsibilities is to provide transport to the migrant Himba people who frequently move back and forth along the river. The manager was alerted when people crossing the river began expressing great fear; reports were circulating that 10 people in one village on the Angola side had passed away due to Measles. A slow panic began to spread among the locals, and the manager quickly alerted the medical headquarters, who put him in touch with the Director of the Ministry of Health and Social Services, Kunene Region (aka my boss).

So there we were, dispatched to assess the situation, and treat/immunize when necessary. The manager wasted no time. He refused to let us camp and provided us an incredible room, which was far beyond anything we could have ever expected. After settling in, we headed out to visit four villages in the area. Because the villages were in hard-to-reach places, the manager took us and all of our supplies out with the Land Cruiser.

The first village where we stopped was tucked between a sand dune and a mountainside. Small scrub-grass managed to grow here in isolated patches, but it seems to be the only thing capable of eeking out an existence. Yet somehow the Himba were thriving. The villagers were so welcoming; we sat in the shade and they gathered around, listening as we explained why we had come, and sharing with us their fears and concerns. There were many children present, and we immunized them one by one. Some were stoic and some screamed with tremendous force, but in the end they were all covered. We did the same in three other villages, and passed out many mosquito nets and water-maker along the way. Luckily, we did not find any people with symptoms of Measles, and hopefully the villagers will stay that way.

It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I am so grateful I was a part of it. Seeing how the Himba have been able to survive and thrive in one of the most unforgiving environments in the world really put my own life into perspective. Here are a people who seem to have "nothing" and yet they find enough to be satisfied in life. Their huts survive an average of three months before the environment destroys them, so they simply move and build different ones. When we asked the villagers what their cows were subsisting on, they could not answer; they don't understand how their cows could live in such sparse grass, yet somehow they do. They find joy in their children, and from the land itself.

Later that evening, as I drifted off to sleep in my exceptionally comfortable, thousand-dollar-a-night bed, I contemplated all that I have to be thankful for. I couldn't even begin to list them all here, but suffice it to say that I am grateful. It is an incredible adventure I am living, and it would not be possible without the love and support of my family and friends.

Our task completed, we loaded up our gear and headed back into the wilderness early the following morning. On the way back, we continued to distribute mosquito nets and other goodies, and we provided plenty of health education. We also collected 5 people intensely affected by Measles in a distant village and took them back with us to Opuwo State Hospital. All in all it was a very successful journey, and despite the many chips stacked against us and everyone who said we couldn't, we made it back in one piece. And in the vast emptiness (okuti onguza), we found a wealth of life and hope, scratching out an existence somehow...

From A Rolling StoneTo pitch my tent with no prosy plan,To range and to change at will;To mock at the mastership of man,To see Adventure's thrill.Carefree to be, as a bird that sings;To go my own sweet way;To reck not at all what may befall,But to live and to love each day.To scorn all strife, and to view all lifeWith the curious eyes of a child;From the plangent sea of the prairie,From the slum to the heart of the Wild.From the red-rimmed star to the speck of sand,From the vast to the greatly small;For I know that the whole for good is planned,And I want to see it all.-Robert Service

I am heading out to the field tomorrow morning with a small team of health workers. We are going to investigate some suspected cases of Measles, and possibly to immunize some children. I will do my best to take some pictures! Updates coming soon......

:)

As of this morning, we have 362 cases of Measles reported in Opuwo District....and the number continues to rise. Our Measles Treatment Center is now fully operational, which is great for the 29 patients we currently have on admission at Opuwo Hospital. We are still struggling to acquire supplies and balance our staff, but at least the patients are now in relative isolation. Also, the health outreach teams returned from the field last week, and they were able to cover 872 children who had never been previously immunized. With any luck, we will have another round of outreach teams in the field next week so hopefully more children will be protected!

Water. Beautiful water.

Over the last nine months, I have become painfully aware of water. In my life before Africa, I understood water in simple terms: It comes out of the tap when you turn the handle, you can buy it in nice little bottles, the faucet has an endless supply, and you shouldn't let it run while you brush your teeth. Turns out that my understanding of water was very limited.

When I turn the handle in my bathroom, more often than not nothing comes out. Sometimes we go many days at a time without any water whatsoever; in the past seven days we have had about 6 hours of water service at the hospital. I repeat AT THE HOSPITAL. We deliver babies here and perform surgery. It boggles the mind that there is no water in a place where patients come to be treated for TB, HIV, Measles, and a variety of other illnesses. But it is a reality, and its now my reality.

The Director of the health facility has been very active of late trying to solve this ongoing water crisis at the hospital. Numerous meetings and discussions have been held with key officials in our area regarding the struggle we are facing in the absence of water. As often happens when a crisis breaks out in Namibia, a committee was assembled to address the issue. A couple months ago, representatives from various water agencies came out to the hospital and took a long look at why water is not being supplied effectively. They discovered that one of the main reasons why water is not being supplied to the hospital stems from an engineering oddity. The intake area in the reservoir from which the hospital should be pulling its water supply is quite high, and as such the reservoir must be over 60% full in order for the hospital to receive any water.

Now here is where the first problem arises. As long as NamWater is suppling all of Opuwo town and surrounding settlements with water, the reservoir level will remain too low for the hospital to receive water. Upon making this discovery, the decision was made among some officials to stop providing water altogether to two local villages, so that the water level could be raised. The water returned at the hospital, but when the Director discovered that it was at the expense of countless people in our local community, she again took up the issue.

It turns out that things are even more complicated; it just so happens that the vast majority of water contracts in my area are held by the Town Council, an organization of traditional authorities from the surrounding territories. NamWater pumps the water up from the earth, and the Town Council buys the water and in turn supplies it to the town. It seems that the Town Council has some past due contracts which are outstanding, and currently they do not have the money to square their debt. Thus, NamWater has refused to continue to supply water until some agreement is reached. So, for the time being Opuwo has water only when the Town Council can pay.

Now, unfortunately for us, the hospital is one of major contracts held by the Town Council. So we are subject to the same "water outages" as the rest of the town while Nam Water and the Town Council sort out their problems. This political problem, coupled with the engineering problems at the reservoir, have left us both literally and figuratively high and dry.

We have now begun the process of getting a direct water supply, where the hospital would have a direct line from Nam Water complete with private meter and a pressure boosting pump, thereby eliminating the Town Council as the middleman. The process is long, but if it works out Opuwo Hospital may have water once again. Of course the Town Council is not pleased to be losing such a large contract, but all of these things will have to sort themselves out in time.

So to add to my previous water understanding: water is scarce. water is political.

Otjinguenjenje is the Otjiherero word for Measles. The entire Northern area of Kunene Region is being heavily affected by Measles at the moment. The outbreak started about a month ago, and so far Opuwo District has had 292 cases reported. Currently we have 36 patients on admission (15 adults, 21 children) and to date we have admitted 120 patients at Opuwo Hospital. Thus far two people have died: one a woman of 42, the other a two year-old child.

Measles is a virus which is highly contagious, and also highly preventable. Symptoms include rash, coughing, fever, conjunctivitis, and spots in the mouth (Koplik spots). In the Western world, people are routinely immunized for Measles as children, and outbreaks are virtually unheard of. However the vast majority of people in my area are not protected, and as a result Measles is spreading like wildfire. In schools children often stay in "hostels," where they sleep in close quarters, and the home situation is very much the same; the traditional style of living here keeps families very close together. As such, when one person is exposed, they then spread the virus to many other people.

This crisis has stretched us to the limit. Our wards are overflowing with people, and after three patients who were here for treatment for other diseases contracted measles, along with two hospital staff members, we reached out for assistance from other organizations in Namibia. Thanks to the Namibian Defense Force, we have now had five tents donated to our health facility so that Measles patients can be kept in relative isolation. Some nurses have also joined us from other regions of Namibia, and they are helping to ease the heavy burden on our staff.

So its been a very busy time here, to say the least. As one of the coordinators for the social mobilization/targeted immunization campaign, I have been working to help ensure that we protect as many children as possible from this disease. Last week we had 8 teams in the field, and over the course of 3 days they were collectively able to immunize 581 children who had not been previously immunized. It was a great start, and hopefully this week will prove to be an even greater success. Despite the fact that we are facing a transport crisis, as well as a water crisis, progress is being made!

There is still a lot of work to be done...wish us luck!

The clouds have officially returned, and with them the rain! In the last few weeks the temperatures have climbed rapidly and the sky, which has been a startling shade of royal blue for the last few months, is now adorned with huge storm clouds. IT'S GLORIOUS.

Hungira means "speak" in Otjiherero, and it is used as a both a command and a request. So I'm going to speak on it. Here goes....

1. Namibia is rad. Its true. I have been here close to 7 months and I still get a kick out of passing goats, pigs, and cows on my walk to the grocery store.

2. I love street meat. One of my favorite treats is going down to the open air market and buying a few hunks of delicious cow. Most of the ladies who cook in the market know me, and I have become such good friends with one of them that she usually gives me an extra piece of meat for free :) They cook sirloin because it is one of the cheapest and least desirable cuts of beef (its not considered a "good" piece of meat here unless there are bones and gristle attached). After grilling the beef, it is seasoned and mixed with grilled onions and sliced tomatoes. When you buy some, they wrap it in torn pieces of old newspaper and top it off with some chili sauce...its AWESOME.

3. Conditions at our grocery store vary. For instance, now that tourist season has gotten underway, we have been getting an incredible selection of fruits and veggies. Last week the store even had feta cheese! Crazy! In general, our produce selection is decent...we get cabbage, tomatoes (usually better from the street vendors), onions, apples, pears, bananas, avocados, beets, potato's, oranges, broccoli....its enough to live off of. Sometimes the quality is poor, and sometimes things from South Africa are quite expensive, but overall I consider myself very lucky to have access to fresh produce!

4. On tourists: as grateful as I am for the influx of tourist friendly food-stuffs, by and large tourists are terrible. I know its awful to generalize like that, but I'll explain why...its not the "khaki nightmare" phenomenon which I find repulsive. In a weird way I almost appreciate the people who climb off the tour buses clothed head to toe in various shades of khaki (especially when they come complete with a floppy had and a gigantic camera) because they never fail to give me a good laugh. What really gets to me is the general sense of entitlement which people seem to feel over the local people. Walking to the store the other day, a shiny vehicle stopped in the middle of the main road and the smiling white faces inside quickly grabbed their cameras and started shooting photos of the local mama's sitting under a tree selling their herbs. It made me want to scream! Not only had they stopped the cars behind them, but it was a tremendously rude thing to do. Local traditional Himba and Herero people are often happy to pose for photos...they simply request that you get their permission first, and that you pay a few cents as a sign of good faith. I KNOW most tourists read that in their handy-dandy guidebooks, and yet they still take pictures and video of the Himba while driving by in giant air-conditioned buses. Arrrgg...is it too much to ask for just a little cultural sensitivity?

5. Summer is coming! Winter is now coming to a close and not a moment too soon. I am looking forward to the increasingly longer daylight hours (we actually "spring forward" this weekend), but along with more daytime comes the incredible HEAT. It is already starting to warm up a little more every day. Even the nights are getting warmer--i haven't needed a sweatshirt for rara's nightly walk this past week :)

6. My pupster is growing up. She got fixed a couple of weeks ago and recovered just fine! Most of the dogs in Opuwo are semi-wild and it seemed responsible parenting to have her spayed. No need to add to the uncared for population of local dogs (thanks Bob Barker). Everyone wants puppies but no one really seems to care much about the scrawny, malnourished dogs they turn into. Plus she will be happier and healthier in the long run!

7. On that note Rara went on her first long hike this past weekend! Hiking the plateauWe hiked the plateau with some volunteers who were in town visiting, and it was a lot of fun. She definitely tired out at the end, but overall she did excellent! This weekend I think I will take her on a hike in some of the nearby hills.

8. I miss my (American) family so much! Its no secret that I am head over heels in love with each and every one of them...i love getting updates on what everyone is up to and how things are going. I'm super proud of my sister Keri for starting her second year of college soon, and my sister Bayli starting fourth grade! I'm glad my brother Owen is recovering well and that my parents (all of them) are somehow finding their way through the nightmare that is the US economy. I love you guys and I cant wait for all of the future adventures we will have together....

That's all for now!

keande nawa, matu hakeanea....(go well, we shall meet again)

Ongombe is the Otjiherero word for cow. The cow has great significance in Herero and Himba cultures; it is simultaneously a measure of wealth, a integral part of the marriage ceremony, a source of fashion, and a source of food.

Turns out cows are so important that they have somehow found their way into my dreams...twice. My first cow dream happened in training. In this dream my host family had given me a herd of 25 cattle (that's a LOT of cattle by the way). The problem was that I had to find a way to transport said cattle over the countless kilometers from Okahandja up to my permanent site, Opuwo. I was able to find a truck that would accommodate half of my herd, but I was really stressed about how I would move the others. In fact I was so stressed that it almost felt like a nightmare and I woke up without coming to any type of resolution. Yet when I shared this dream with my Namibian trainers, the consensus was that it was a great dream! A woman with 25 cows is rich and powerful here, and their interpretation was that in the future I am going to find myself in a very happy, rich, and productive marriage. This definitely made me giggle.

Yet not too long ago the cow revisited my dream world. In this most recent dream, I was flying back to the US and, for whatever reason, felt it necessary to bring a very large bull along with me. For obvious reasons, this became a problem when I was going through customs. Expecting a fair amount of corruption among the customs officers at the Namibian airport, I attempted to bribe the chief so that he would let my bull on board. No dice; apparently there was some worry about the length of his horns and the overall awkwardness a cow would lend to the distribution of cargo. Major bummer. Eventually I was able to talk them into allowing my bull to come along, on the promise that he would lay down the entire flight. Crazy right?

I have not yet had the most recent dream interpreted, but I'm sure when I do the explanation will be interesting. :)

One last thing while we are on the subject of cows: They are also great natural roadblocks!

English is the national language in Namibia. Of course, the quality of English varies greatly depending on whether one is in a rural or urban community, the individuals' level of education, etc. Interestingly enough most of the Namibians I know speak multiple languages including, but not limited to, their mother tongue, at least one other Bantu language, Afrikaans, and English. For instance, one of the women I work closely with at the office speaks Damara (a click language) as her mother-tongue, Otjiherero (a Bantu language) because her husband is Herero, Otjiwambo (another Bantu language) because it is closely related to Otjiherero, Afrikaans because she was educated under the apartheid regime, and English because it is now the language of the government! And she is not alone; I am continually impressed by how effortlessly Namibians flow between two or more languages in the course of a 3 minute conversation.

With all of these languages floating around in peoples brains, it is no small wonder that things can sometimes get a little mashed up. Enter Namlish. Namlish is the amalgamation which has resulted from Namibians infusing English with various expressions used in the assortment of mother-tongue's found here.

A few brief examples of Namlish:

"I am coming now" = "I am leaving and will be back at some undisclosed time" (this is often used as someone is walking out of the room)"Now now" (as in 'i am coming to meet you now now') = "it will happen eventually" note: the number of "nows" generally indicates the urgency so if someone says they will do something "now now" it may happen in the next few days, whereas if they said "now now now now now" it may happen within the next few hours"Iz it?" = wow, i had to think for about 5 mins before i could remember the English equivalent "really? for real? is that so?""So?" = used in my region the same way that 'Iz it' is used in the rest of the country"Borrow me" (as in "Borrow me a dollar") = " give me" the concept of "borrowing" something doesn't really exist in most Namibian cultures; lending and giving are typically considered the same thing. "nay?" (as in "the weather is hot today, nay?") = often used as a way to affirm your statement"a rubber" = "rubber band" Im sure you can imagine how confused and surprised I was the first time one of my older female colleagues asked me to "borrow her a rubber." "naughty" = "bad" this is generally used to describe people or animals and it still makes me giggle every time i hear it. "oh, that cow is very naughty" "Fine/nawa" = Fine (nawa) can be used as a response to a greeting, such as "how are you? I am fine" or as the entire greeting. Occasionally I will pass someone in the street and they will greet me with "Fine" or "Nawa." This might be unique to my area, where making an "Mmmmmmmmm" sound at the back of your throat is also considered a greeting. Needless to say, my English has degenerated significantly. Sometimes it takes me a little while to figure out how things are said in American English. I am aware that my spoken English now has a slightly different structure, i have developed a funny accent, and in general I speak much slower. I sometimes wonder if I am doing a disservice to my mother tongue by adapting my English to the Namibian way, but i believe adapting ultimately helps me to be better understood, nay?

I am back from Reconnect, and I must say it was great to see my friends from Group 29 again! We stayed at a lovely conference center which was about 20km south of Windhoek. The center was on the top of a hill, surrounded by rolling hills and sparse trees, stripped by the winter. The second day we were there, a large group of tourists set off on a three-week bus trip to Tanzania, so we had the entire place to ourselves which was great. Unfortunately it is still winter so even though the sun was shining, the frigid breeze kept us from fully enjoying the outdoors. Still, we took the opportunity to take nature walks, and i was able to do yoga almost every day!

Harmony Center/Reconnect

Today I am busy doing some preparations for National Oral Health Day (August 18th) and Condom Awareness Day (Aug 22). I just wanted to take the opportunity to share a couple interesting facts I learned from one of my colleagues during our Monday morning meeting; last week she was out at a workshop and today she reported on the things she learned.

**Namibia is one of the two countries in the world with the highest Tuberculosis infection rates. This is aggravated by the fact that Namibia is in the top 3 countries in the world with the highest HIV prevalence rates (HIV makes people much more prone to TB infection). If you want to learn more about TB, check out what wiki has to say http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tuberculosis **So far this year my region (Kunene) has had 4 cases of MDR-TB (Multi Drug Resistant TB), two of which have turned into XDR-TB (Extensively Drug Resistant TB). This condition develops when people default on their treatment multiple times and the bacteria mutates and becomes immune to the standard lines of TB therapy.

**Of the 23 new cases of XDR-TB confirmed last year, 13 people have died. That is a more than 50% fatality rate. Pretty intense.

As of today (July 21, 2009), I have been in Namibia for five months. My goodness the time flies! That is not to say that there weren’t plenty of days which endlessly dragged on, but overall I am amazed at how fast the time has passed. The last week has been particularly hard for a variety of reasons, and it dawned on me today that having hard times is ok. It’s easy to forget that life is different here and I am still adjusting. Learning to be patient with myself has been a process, but I think I am slowly making progress. :)

Last week I broke my routine and left site for the first time since I was sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer back in April. I had my first meeting as a new member the Volunteer Support Network, an organization run by PC Volunteers in Namibia to offer confidential support to our fellow volunteers working in the field. I was lucky enough to get a free hike down with our Ministry of Health patient bus, which was awesome because it literally left 200 meters from my front door. The down side is that it was a typical hike in Namibia: I was crammed into a seat too narrow to accommodate my small frame and the lovely lady who climbed into the seat beside me brought along a full sized keyboard, which she then preceded to stuff into the non-existent space between us. (Leg room is way overrated, right?) So there I sat, smashed against the window with said keyboard digging into my legs, when two lovely Herero women in yards and yards of traditional dress squeezed into the row with us. “It’s only 8 hours,” I said to myself as I inwardly braced for the long journey. Within about 20 minutes my back started to ache and my legs went numb. Oh well, at least the ride was free.

I tried to fall asleep quickly, which wasn’t too difficult because it was 6am (did I forget to mention that?) and when the throbbing in my back forced me to open my eyes a couple of hours later, I was greeted with a lovely surprise. We had just crossed the red line, a check-point which divides the rural north from the rest of the country, when I saw something move in the bush. I squinted my eyes against the harsh morning light and there stood a HUGE elephant, eating his leafy breakfast right off the side of the road! I was so excited to have spotted an elephant in the wild that I literally tried to jump out of my chair. This didn’t go so well, as I bashed my already numb legs into the sharp edge of the keyboard, while simultaneously jarring the poor lady who was sleeping next to me with her head resting against my shoulder. Oops! She sort of snorted awake, and glanced at me for a second before she readjusted the keyboard and fell back to sleep.

My heart pounded as I contemplated the thrill of this sighting. The elephant was remarkable; large and proud, it feasted on the tree totally oblivious to our bus full of people gawking foolishly at it as we barreled down the road. It took my breath away, seeing this giant animal in the wild. No zoo could ever compare. I sealed the mental image of it in my memory, and settled back into my seat only to sit straight back up three minutes later. Moving slowly across the land stalked a herd of 10 full grown giraffes! It was one of those moments where it dawned on me: this is indeed Africa!

Spending about five minutes in Windhoek gave me the opposite reaction though. The capital is huge and bustling. There are too many cars, too many shops, too many lights…it was overwhelming. It was as if someone had magically transported me into different area of the world. In 8 hours, my quiet, dusty Opuwo streets had transformed into multi-lane roads with actual streetlights! Designer clothes had suddenly replaced the rich red ocre of the Himba people. Exotic restaurants punctuated the blocks of shiny new buildings and all around everyone seemed rushed. Namibia is often called a land of stark contrasts, and traveling from my region down to the madness of Windhoek, this becomes very apparent. Almost as soon as I arrived in the big city I was ready to go back to site. Don’t get me wrong, the food in Windhoek was amazing! We had Tex-Mex, Indian food, Sushi, and good hamburgers and fries. Unfortunately I had gotten a stomach bug right before I left Opuwo which prevented me from eating very much at one time, but what I was able to eat was DELICIOUS! However, good food aside, the most valuable aspect of being in Windhoek was coming to the realization that I really love my site.

Our VSN meeting went very well and it was great to get to spend time with some of my fellow PCV’s. I am now back home in Opuwo for the rest of this week, and then Sunday I will head down to Windhoek again for our “Reconnect” which is a two week long Peace Corps training. I will meet up with my group of Health volunteers for the first time since we swore in so that we can all discuss what we have been doing for the last three months and hopefully gain some skills which we can use in our future projects. I am so excited to see my group again but I must admit the prospect of going back down to Windhoek so soon is a little daunting. At least this time around I won’t have the stomach flu, so hopefully I will be able to enjoy the delicious food a bit more!

I've been in Namibia for over four months and so far I've seen giraffes, zebra, kudu, orex, baboons, and a variety of other assorted creatures. The bad news? No pictures of any of them. I know, I suck. Sorry Mom. At any rate I have been able to snap some pictures of some of my favorite local critters, and I will share them now....

Really big beetle. They seemed to love the grass at the Kukuri Center. Their furry-looking feet make them excellent diggers. :)

This picture is for my mom. She has the most irrational fear of moths, and I enjoy teasing her about it. Betcha cant wait to come visit!

This is my spider Bob. He's really big. I noticed him one night stringing his web from my windowsill to my jerry can and the original game plan was to sweep him outside, only I was too tired. The next morning when I looked he had somehow managed to trap a gigantic cockroach in his handy-dandy web. So he can stay! (Bob is up at the top, followed by a cricket he caught and the monster roach).

Praying Mantis. There are tons of them around my house and I love them because they eat lots and lots of bugs.

On the outside, it looks like a normal toilet........

But inside it's the home of Ronald and Reagan (thanks for the names sissy)!

Rara likes to pretend she is a lion. She lays on my porch and surveys the tall grass (and of course growls at anything that happens to walk by).

She's also likes to help with laundry. :)

Rara

Thanks to some pressure from my little sister, I am now blogging! Thus far my updates have been sent through email, but its proved to be a pain for a variety of reasons so hopefully this works out better.

In honor of Keri's new blog, i have decided to share some photos from my last four months in Namibia! Hope you enjoy :)

I honestly don't think I'll ever get over the Namibian sky....

This is the welcoming mural at the Kukiri Center, where we had our Pre-Service Training.

Ashley and I had our Otjiherero language lessons under the grass hut every day :)

A beautiful cactus garden which was right next to our language hut...

The not-so-nice creature which came out of the garden...ya, that's a black mamba.

Benna saved the day.

Group shot with my family: (Top left moving counter-clockwise) My sister Drusilla, and her children Tandiue (age 9), Camerster (age 11), Tjizaa (age 6), and Victoria (age 6)

Victoria :)

Victoria and Tandiue playing in the backyard. The white thing in Tandiue's hand is a bunch of rolled-up plastic bags. That is what kids commonly use to play soccer here. This picture was taken right before I left homestay for my permanent site. It cracks me up every time I look at it because Tandiue is making a marvelous face and Victoria is looking at the T.V. screen. The show that's playing is Camilla, a Spanish soap opera that is dubbed (horribly) in English. The drama is intense and for whatever reason many Namibians are really into it. By the end of training a fair proportion of Group 29 was hooked too!

My kids. I will just preface the next few pictures by saying Namibian food is great....if you like LOTS of meat! However, if you are vegetarian/PETA friendly (that means you Keri) you may want to skip these next pictures.

Important lesson learned: Herero men are not good at making fires. They struggled with this one for about 45 minutes until our training manager Linda and I showed them how it's done.

Peggy and I preparing the chicken for our meal.

Magreth hard at work.

Some of the girls from Nam 29: (from left) Myself, Peggy, Lindsay, Ashley, Shawn, and Amelia.

This picture was taken on our cross-cultural day. We spent the morning learning to prepare regional specialties from many of the different cultural groups in Namibia.

On our Host-Family Appreciation Day we bought a goat and slaughtered it.

My language trainer Richard. He loves warm Coca-Cola, Shamu #2, and throwing babies around. Ok that baby thing is a lie but the rest it true. (:

Richard working the braai. Its necessary to char the hair off of the hooves and head before they can be cooked.

Busy scraping the charred hair off of the hooves. Yummy ;)

Our trainers Linda and Raymond enjoying the chow. Linda is going to kill me if she sees this picture because she has a whole plate full of meat. Love you Linda!

My host-mom Barbara and I during our host family award ceremony. This is a typical training day. We often lounged around on the grass during our much-needed break time.

Swearing in ceremony. We are now PCV's as of April 17, 2009! Whooooo!