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…

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

My trip really didn’t end once I reached Epupa – only the walking. I spent a couple days at Epupa exploring further downstream and hanging out in the village. Then, I had to try to get myself out of there which isn’t a straightforward task since it is kind of out in the middle of nowhere.

Since you are probably tired of reading this blog and I am tired of typing it (certainly not tired of reliving it though), I am going to keep this one short. Here are some photos from the few days following the walk down the river.

Sunrise over the Kunene and Epupa Village

The calm Kunene before it slides into the abyss resulting in watery chaos

Misty view from below the falls

Downstream of Epupa the lush vegetation along the banks disappears as the river cuts through desert landscapes of barren mountains, rock, and sand

Inside a simple Himba shelter I assume is used by herders when they bring the cows and goats to the river

That’s a Himba hut, not a boulder

Soccer is Africa’s pastime. It doesn’t matter how remote the village – game on!

I find the games much less amusing than the crowd coming to watch the game

The children of Africa are something special

From Epupa, I hitchhiked in the back of a camper truck rented by a delightful German/Hungarian couple, Rainer and Aniko. We made a stop for lunch in the middle of nowhere – well, apparently not the middle of nowhere to the Himba. These ladies came out of the bushes, sat down and enjoyed our picnic with us. They were thoroughly delighted to see themselves on the small screen of Rainer’s camera.

December 28 - Day 9, Epupa Falls

Now comes the most difficult part of any great adventure – acceptance; acceptance that it has come to an end and all the extraordinary experiences become nothing but memories. I faced difficulties throughout the entire walk – holes in my feet, blackened toenails, searching for the perfect campsite, and even mustering up the courage to throw on the pack and venture alone into the unknown. I overcame all of these difficulties with little heartache, but accepting that it is all over is not so simple to overcome. Unfortunately it tends to put me in a morose mood. Regrets start to work into my mind – maybe I should have hiked fewer kilometers each day and spent more nights out? Maybe I should have sat longer with those Himba women and shared more food with them? …

I thoroughly dislike the end of an adventure. I have had my share of adventures but there are only a handful that have left me feeling like this, and this one might take the cake. With that said, this is exactly how I want a trip to end. It tells me that is has been profound and has impacted me. Is that not what we hope to gain from adventure? That’s all I really hope for.

I am now sitting at Epupa Falls after a relatively unremarkable day of walking. The landscape is much more arid here, in fact I am told that the rains are still to come, if at all. The Kunene broadens and plunges into the canyon below but not as a single waterfall, but instead as hundreds of breathtaking cascades. If there is such a place as Shangri-La, it must certainly have some of the characteristics of this place. It is a remote village but is a popular stop on the typical tourist circuit. I find myself crammed in the corner of a campground surrounded by 4x4s, generators, and travel trailers. In other words, worlds away from where I was just 6 hours ago. My heart is screaming at my feet telling them to get out of here and keep walking down this amazing river. The river continues for 100’s of kilometers through true desert wilderness until if finally dumps into the Atlantic at the infamous Skeleton Coast. What’s holding me back? Lots of things. It’s never too early to start planning the next adventure though. I don’t want to leave these extraordinary landscapes, the solace that the river brings, or especially its breathtaking people who call it home. The Himba have moved me in a way I wouldn’t have imagined. Having the opportunity to be in their presence in such a way has been very special. They will always have a place in my heart.

Although better in some places than in others, it comforts me to know that the rising sun is a daily occurrence

Palm forests – good; Cactus forests – not good

Soaking it in as much as possible

The final stretch – Epupa lies just beyond the pass through the mountains

Nature never ceases to amaze me – I hope it always does

So, to summarize…

Walking the Kunene: walk 150km in extreme heat, do a lot of walking in Namibia while doing a lot of looking in Angola, drink 6 liters of warm brown water a day, sleep under the stars, greet every Himba with a big smile and a “wa penduka”, spook crocodiles, poop in the sand, snuggle your machete at night, be spooked by crocodiles, share peanuts and raisins with Himba, and embrace the adventure and be moved by the sheer beauty of the place.

(one more post to follow tomorrow)

December 27 - Day 8

I have been craving milk all afternoon ever since I opened my pack to slather on some sunscreen. I opened the container and found that the lotion had turned to the consistency of milk – that’s how hot it was today. I am now camped at what I believe to be the northern most point in Namibia. Although I am only about 15km from Epupa, this is the most remote I have felt. I arrived here via a little Himba trail that winds its way far from the road. My tent is pitched on a small patch of earth sandwiched between the river and a small mountain. From my front door a sliver of rock juts out into the river creating a tranquil set of rapids. Monster thunderheads are billowing over Angola and I can hear the distant rumble of thunder. And not 50 yards from camp I spooked a 6 foot croc. A proper last night after a long walk.

Tonight I am not entirely alone though. Across the river, somewhere hidden behind the bushes is a Himba homestead. I watched the boys play along the banks of the river, yelling and running. I watched, as who I presume to be the father, bring the goats down to the river for a drink. The Himba in Angola lead the same primitive lifestyle as their cousins here in Namibia. However, I can imagine that their exposure to foreigners is not near that to the Namibian Himba. I wonder what they are thinking of me camped across from them? I watched as a woman emerged from the bushes carrying a container for hauling water. Upon seeing me she stopped and gave me a long, intent watch as I went about my business, as if assessing the situation. She eventually made her way down to the water directly across from the rocky protrusion at my camp. She watched me as I watched her. I went out to the river to fill up my water containers as she was doing the same thing. I decided to splash some water on myself as a quick bathe. When she finished collecting her water she does the same thing.* Here I was sharing the same river, taking care of the same tasks with a woman whose culture is worlds away from my own – in fact, a culture that I envy in many respects. It was a surreal experience. The magic of this place is like nothing I have ever experienced before.

*I have since learned that Himba women do not bathe so maybe she was just merely cooling down.

Another Himba homestead – unfortunately I don’t know what purpose each structure serves

The progressive aridity of the land was apparent as I continued west

Looking north across the Kunene and into Angola

After trekking in the Himalaya I thought I was ruined – would I ever be able to find places as beautiful? The Kunene proved that I am not ruined – even though there are no big snowy mountains, the Kunene is a stunningly beautiful place in its own unique ways.

Yet another stunning sunset – Africa is good for those

December 26 - Day 7

Hot. There is no better way to describe the day. Today I walked through temperatures that I was expecting to experience. I wish I had a thermometer to measure just how hot it was. I would estimate it above 100°F and maybe more with the sun reflecting off the ground. Even the Himba found it to be too hot for their taste, pointing to the sky and saying “omutenya!” as I passed. Besides that, the day was pretty uneventful. I was off the track for most of the day following the river through palm forests and up and over gorges that turned the otherwise calm Kunene into a raging torrent. I saw few people today. For the most part my only company was the vervet monkeys swinging in the branches overhead.

This evening I faced what is turning out to be the most stressful part of my days – finding a place to pitch the tent. Never before have I had to consider so many factors – crocodiles, snakes, people, safe access to water, etc. It has become the least enjoyable part of my days. I don’t want to intrude on Himba homesteads so finding a site that is a decent distance from homes is challenging. It is by no means densely populated in here but ensuring that there is adequate separation behind and in front of me is tedious.Today I found a nice beach on the river with a spot to pitch the tent away from the water and rapids from which I could safely get water (I was informed that crocs prefer to not hang out in rapidly moving water). There was a Himba kraal (corral) adjacent to the beach so I walked down the river to ensure that there wasn’t a homestead too near. Upon returning to the site I met a Himba man who also decided to stop on the beach. He was less personable than the other Himbas I had encountered which made me a bit uneasy. I asked where he was going and he points to where he is standing. He makes himself comfortable in the sand and falls asleep. I am reluctant to unload all my gear because I am alone and I do not want him eyeing all my valuables. I decide to move on and wait it out and see if he continues on. After an hour I slowly creep back in there and see him still lazing around. I sneak back out and begin looking for a new site. I get myself into the large kraal and find another nice sandy spot. However, I am in a kraal. No cows at the moment, but I would hate for them to bring the cows home and find a white guy hanging out in their kraal. While I am awkwardly standing there playing through my options, the Himba man strolls right on by me. By now, I assume he is as weirded out about me as I am of him. But, my original beach is now free so I hustle over there to set up camp. The man returns and awkwardly watches me do my thing. I chat with him as much as I can (him little English, me little Himba) and finally gather after some drawing in the sand and some animal noises that he is waiting for his goats. This must be the beach where he meets his goats every day. I also gather that they happen to be missing today. Just great! The one day his goats go missing is the day there is an unusual white guy on the beach! What an ordeal…

Taking all measures to keep the menacing sun off my skin

It was an all new experience for me to be wandering through palm forests

Vervet monkeys provided me with plenty of entertainment

Also providers of entertainment

Rewarding views for my patience in snagging the beach campsite

December 25 - Day 6

I woke this morning to crystal clear skies and an eagerness to see what was in store for the day. These final four days should be the best as the road begins to deteriorate and I push deeper into Himba country. Indeed, the day turned out to be incredible. The only people I encountered were Himba – no 4x4 South Africans, no lodges, and no villages with assorted Namibians. Every time I see a Himba I am fascinated, taken aback, and curious about them and their way of life.

As the day progressed my pack got lighter. The first Himba I met today was a young woman. She was tending the cattle and upon seeing me she left her shade under the tree and swiftly made her way towards me. She had her hand out in greeting before she even reached me. We shook hands and exchanged greetings in broken English and broken Himba. After a brief moment of trying to genuinely chat I couldn’t resist asking her for a photo. She obliged. I had to return the favor so I gave her an apple, a pen, and some loose change in my pack that was needlessly weighing me down – a fair exchange.

The rest of my encounters happened pretty much the same way. An encounter was always a good excuse to stop, take a break, and share my goodies with them. I can’t be certain, but I think many of them had their first experience with peanuts and raisins. They seemed thoroughly delighted. The warmth that they showed towards me was overwhelming (before they knew I had anything to offer, I might add). Not once did I feel like I was intruding or was not welcomed – something that goes a long ways when you are alone in unfamiliar territory. I also astonished myself at the level at which I could communicate with them. I often got the gist of what they were saying to me and could offer a reply either in English or Himba. There is apparently enough overlap between Oshiwambo and Himba that allows me to somewhat effectively communicate with them; a thrilling discovery that has of course enriched the experience.

Tomorrow I am hoping for more of the same. I may have to start rationing my food…

One of the numerous homesteads the route took me past

It doesn’t matter how many Himba I see in a day – always breathtaking

Curious, yet shy Himba boys who graciously accepted a snack of peanuts and raisins

This woman was doing the hair of the other – at this stage she was plastering it with what appeared to be white mud

The tranquility that a river provides is unmatched – whenever I had to navigate away from the river I would become uneasy

December 24 - Day 5

Christmas Eve. I am sitting in the sand on the banks of the Kunene with my two closest friends at the moment – my small mopane campfire and my machete. Certainly doesn’t feel like Christmas. In fact, I would have forgotten if it weren’t for the young lad I shared the trail with for a few kilometers this afternoon. He had walked to the nearest neighbors (2-3 kilometers away) to pick up a chunk of pork that his family was going to feast on for the occasion.

The sun has set and as I write this I know that my family is putting the final touches on their own Christmas dinner. I am quite used to being away from home for the holidays, but I do miss it dearly. However, times like these are special and there is not much that I would trade it for.

I would consider today typical – knocked off 20k, greeted some Himba, ate fresh bananas and mangoes, and continued to be paranoid about crocs, snakes, scorpions, and overly curious villagers stumbling into camp. It was confirmed today that I freak the Himba out, at least the younger ones. I was taking a rest at the delta of a dry riverbed when I spotted a young Himba boy wandering around further up the sandy riverbed. I was certain that he had to have seen me as I was out in plain view. However, after about 30 minutes he had made his way near me behind some bushes. I saw him coming at me and assumed he was coming to chat. Not the case though. As he rounded a tree and I came into view he jumped back and gave one heck of a yell. I only sat there and laughed. We ended up chatting for awhile and our conversation ended with him wanting my shirt and me refusing to give it to him.

It was a good day. I don’t think I will be leaving out any milk and cookies though; I ate all my cookies and I don’t feel like finding a goat to milk at this hour. Besides, I ain’t so sure the Kunene River is on Santa’s circuit.

Himba homestead with the Zebra Mountains in the background

Following a river is pretty straightforward but I always like to know where I am and where I am going…well, as much as possible with my 1979 Suidwes-Afrika map (Suidwes-Afrika is Afrikaans for Southwest Africa, from the days when Namibia wasn’t even Namibia yet)

Unidentified flower of sorts

There are not many things that are more comforting than digging your feet in the sand, sitting next to a campfire, listening to the flow of the river, and watching the sun set over the horizon

December 23 - Day 4

I am writing this a day late for reasons that will be apparent later. I took a rest day at the Kunene River Lodge which, despite its high prices and gangs of tough truck South Africans, was an extremely relaxing place to take a pause. I walked the 4km to the nearby village to stock up on supplies and indulge on imported Angolan biscuits (cookies). Swiftbooisdrif felt like an outlaw town from an old western. Everyone’s heads turned as I strolled into the bar to buy my cookies and a cold beer. A young lad approached me and after exchanging greetings in Himba, he gave me a reassuring comment. He looked me in the eyes and said something along the lines of, “you’ve been around awhile.” It made me feel at home to at least give the impression that I can walk the walk and talk the talk. It’s comforting to know that I am not like every other tourist.

After returning to camp my plans for the rest of the day were ruined. I was treated to endless foreign hospitality for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I still can’t figure out if people felt pity, admiration, or just plain bewilderment towards me. I was the only one in camp without a truck and we were all coming from or going to the same place. People would walk by my tent and say, “where’s yer truck?” I would just slap my legs and say “right here.” After being treated at the bar by South Africans, cold beers with some Germans, and hot dogs and wine with a French couple, I was able to finally call it a day well after my bedtime.

The relaxing river deck at the lodge

The lush, shady, and peaceful retreat of the KRL – worlds away from the previous 3 days of walking…and the days to follow for that matter

KRL’s Unimog – an appropriate vehicle for these parts

December 22 - Day 3

The weather favored me today – a welcomed change. I woke to the gentle chatter of villagers passing by under overcast skies, but no rain. As the day progressed, the clouds broke bringing with it the scorching sun I was expecting to battle. It felt great to finally dry out. As I continue west the environment is becoming more arid. Today I walked through near lunar landscapes, save a few scrawny mopane trees. The more typical desert flora is becoming more common; acacia, camelthorn, and aloes. However, the fringes of the river remain dense with monster gnarled trees and makalani palms. I like the contrast.

I had few interactions with the Himba today. I have begun wondering what they think of me. At one point today, I made my way down to the river via a cattle trail to take a break on the bank. A couple of Himba boys later made their way down there but after seeing me they clearly became nervous. They slowly moved away while peeking at me through the trees. I waved as a friendly invite to come over but they only returned a blank stare and quickly scurried away. I felt as if I was intruding. This area does see a fair amount of tourist traffic, but more of the 4x4 zoom though type, not the solo hiker type. It is a shame because there is so much more that can only be experienced on foot. Today I spooked 3 crocs, a giant monitor lizard, klipsinger, and marveled at countless bird species. Not to mention, poked around some giant den of some sorts. These experiences are certainly less genuine with your hands grasping the steering wheel.

I finished the day at the Kunene River Lodge, a swanky retreat about 46km in. The camping is expensive but the food is good and the beer is cold (merry early Christmas!) The location is no doubt stunning but I feel a bit detached from nature right now. I will take a rest day tomorrow and walk to the nearby village of Swartbooisdrif to replenish some supplies. The next leg of the walk is the long one but will most certainly be the most interesting.

Gravel plains devoid of life – a reminder that as I continue west I am pushing further into Kaokoland, an area known for its remote, harsh, and arid desert wilderness

There were plenty of sandy beaches that would be perfect for lazing after a swim…if it weren’t for the crocs and skin-searing sun

Sunset at the Kunene River Lodge

December 21 - Day 2

This morning started out very much the same as yesterday…with the steady pattering of rain on the tent fly. Not much of a morale booster. This has not been turning out as I had expected. As I waited for the rain to subside I ran through my options. I turn back and throw in the towel? I stay put and continue later in the day? Just get up, put a wet camp in my bag and trudge through the rain? Option 3 seemed like the least fun (at least type 2), but I figured what the heck, I am not losing my mind yet and at least it isn’t cold. After a quick breakfast and a hasty breakdown of camp, I hit the road decked out in my flimsy poncho (a glorified garbage bag.) Luckily, after only an hour or so the rain came to a stop.

The day turned out OK. Despite the muddy, slippery road, the weather held. I was happy to greet every Himba with a smile and a “wa penduka”. The walking was easy. I covered around 20km along 4x4 gravel road. For the most part, the only traffic was goats, cows, and donkeys with the exception of one South African convoy of jacked-up Landcruisers and Hiluxes. Later in the afternoon rain began to threaten once again. I found a place to camp in a scrub mopane forest about 150 yards off the bank of the river. I struggled looking for a place to set up the tent. This is not true wilderness. There are Himba settlements scattered about the valley and I am not entirely sure of the correct customs – do I need permission from the headman? I had to ensure that I found a place a comfortable distance between settlements. I think I did OK. There are cows on this side of me, donkeys on that side, and an occasional villager passing by on the road but no one has seemed to take notice of my intrusion. After being marooned in my tent once again this evening due to rain, I was finally able to emerge as the sun sank over the horizon. The last of the sun’s rays danced on the clouds which gave me hope. Somewhere to the west the clouds have broken. It makes me optimistic. Tomorrow, I continue west.

Vibrant bird life along the river – some type of Kingfisher?

Stick and mud Himba shelter

Nylon and aluminum GC shelter

December 20 - Day 1

One of my biggest concerns for the trek was quickly put to rest this morning as my alarm went off at 4 am. I awoke to the sound of rain pattering on the fly of my tent. It is now summer here which means the potential for serious heat is very real. My plan was to wake early and begin walking before the sun peeked over the horizon. To avoid the potentially dangerous heat I would walk in the early morning hours, find shade during the heat of the day, and then continue in the late afternoon. This is not the ideal time to be tackling this route. However, it is the shoulder season between the heat and the rains and today mother nature apparently decided on the rains. With the rain pounding my tent I decided to go back to sleep. No need to worry about the heat today. But with the rain showing no sign of letting up, my new concern became the rain itself. I certainly did not want to set out with a wet camp in my bag and no idea of what the weather was going to do. So I quickly packed up camp and moved into the relative security of the toilet/shower block. For the next 3 hours I contemplated what I should do. Should I hang tight another night and avoid the risk of being stuck in the middle of nowhere wet and miserable? If so, then I will need to ration my food for the remainder of the trip. Don’t really want to do that! As long as it kept pouring I knew what I had to do…hang tight. Finally though, I got a window. I quickly packed up my things just in time for it to start pouring again. Looks like I will be hanging tight. Boredom. I have to get out of this toilet. Another window comes around 2:30, so I take it. With a storm to the north and to the south, I nervously shoulder my pack and begin following the Kunene downstream. Despite the impending doom, it is invigorating to leave civilization behind and to be back in nature once again. I finish the short day at an unexpected campsite tended by a young Owambo man. The rain never came back. I made the right decision to leave the security of the toilet.

The only dry chunk of property in the abandoned campground

Rain…the anti-motivator

So long, Ruacana

December 19 - Ruacana

Here I am, sitting on the banks of the river, looking down the Kunene River valley; Namibia to my left, Angola to my right. It is the eve of what’s going to be a long walk. It has been a long time since I have written in my journal but this feels like a fitting time and place to pick it back up. I am writing now to record this trip; one that I know will be remarkable. I am here to tackle 150km along the Kunene, Ruacana Falls to Epupa Falls, solo. It is going to be a test in so many ways, physically and mentally. Just like other extraordinary adventures in the past – floating on a yam barge up the Volta or trekking around the base of Mt. Everest – this one is also going to be defining. I have chosen to do this one solo because for me it is the solo trips that turn out to be more profound and life changing. Of course I am nervous, but that is part of the appeal.

After a 3-hour, nerve-racking ride in a dilapidated taxi to get here, I was assured that I was doing the right thing when I was greeted by three young Himba boys at the entrance to the campground. And when my firewood was delivered to me on the head of a half-naked Himba woman while I was intently keeping my eye on the 8-9 foot croc lazing on the beach across from camp, I knew I was in for something special. No longer am I scared or nervous about what the coming days will bring, but am now eagerly awaiting the predawn start and the following nine days of what is surely to be a profound experience.

The Kunene’s spectacular entrance into Namibia

Ominous weather down the valley, in fact, ominous weather all around

As you might have noticed, the link for the textbook donations is no longer around! I want to give a big thanks to everyone who donated to this project. Your generous support means that by the start of the new school year in January, the learners will have new and improved textbooks. I wholeheartedly believe that improved textbooks will stimulate more interest for the subject, increase their understanding, and ultimately create youth that are more prepared and inspired to undertake the less than favorable employment situation that awaits them.

You can expect more updates on this project in the future.

As we say in Owamboland, onda pandula.

It has been a couple of months of hard work but the Tulongeni Gardening Project is close to having its first seeds in the ground; just in time for the rainy season. For me, I have been spared most of the backbreaking labor involved with constructing the garden and getting the land ready to plant. There is no arguing that I am not as skilled as the women when it comes to transporting water or fencing wire on my head. However, it has been a lot of logistical work for me, which I actually enjoy less than swinging a hammer or digging holes. We depended on donated transport to get all the materials into the village so it has meant far too many trips to town for me and phone calls trying to figure out where our stuff is. On what was a worthless plot of sand, grass, and a few scrubby thorn trees, is now a 23,000 square foot garden that will hopefully provide a group of women with a little extra income, an improved diet, and the opportunity to better themselves. The project, which has cost a mere US$3,000 (that money can go a long ways here) was funded through the U.S.’s President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR). With the money we were able to install a water pipe, build a chain-link fence, build a small shaded nursery, buy tools and other equipment, and buy the first round of seeds for the women. In reality, the easy part is done. Burying a water pipe and erecting a fence is pretty straightforward. However, growing vegetables in less than perfect conditions is going to take some work and patience. I have been told that it is a common belief amongst the Owambo that the soil in the region will grow nothing well except palm trees and millet. Luckily, I have proven this wrong with my own garden. I have found that many vegetables grow quite well and in the process I have learned a few tricks that will hopefully help the women succeed. Come December the first seeds will be sowed. The group will be planting cabbage, carrots, beets, onion, squash, watermelon, tomato, and swiss chard. All of these are easily marketable to the surrounding community. I am also encouraging the group to use up to half of the garden to grow maize and sugar cane. Again, these are very marketable but also grow extremely well with little effort. In case the vegetables fail, the group will at least be guaranteed some success for their first season. It makes me anxious, nervous, and excited to see how everything will come together. There are a lot of hurdles ahead for this project but at least I am still here for nearly another year to help the women overcome the hurdles.

The first step in building the garden was running the water line. In total, we buried about 320 meters of poly pipe between the garden and the village.

A single tap for the entire garden. The garden will not be irrigated but instead will have to be watered by hand. During the rainy season the watering will be minimal, especially with mulching. However, in order for the garden to produce year round, daily watering will be necessary during the 7 months when there is absolutely no rain.

Located in the extreme southern end of Namibia, Fish River Canyon is yet another place that is uncharacteristic of Africa. At a length of about 100 miles and a depth of up to 1,800 feet, Fish River Canyon is the second largest canyon in the world; the Grand Canyon being the largest. According to local Bushmen legend, the canyon was formed by an apparently large snake that was madly slithering to escape hunters that were pursuing it. Like the Grand Canyon, Fish River Canyon winds its way through the desert. Only a stone’s throw away from the Kalahari and the Namib, the canyon not surprisingly has an attractive remoteness and isolation to it. A combination of that and the stunning beauty of the area is why our group of five set out on a 5-day trek to cover the length of the canyon.

Without the canyon the area would be nothing more than a vast desert wasteland. Add some water and 50 million years of erosion, and you get an extraordinary natural piece of art.

It seems my travel blog is suddenly turning into more of a charity blog. Although less of an entertaining read, it is a good way for me to drum up support for certain projects. As you may know, I have been active with an entrepreneurship club at the school. The learners and I have been finding ways of making money, essentially with a few micro-businesses. Several months back I came up with the idea to start a small photo project with the club. As I found out, photos are in high demand in the village. Being the only one with a camera, learners and community members are constantly asking me to take their pictures for them. I recognized it as an easy and quick way for the club to make money. The only problem of course is getting our hands on a digital camera. So, I wrote home a few months back and my very helpful parents threw a couple unused cameras in the mail. If all went as planned we were supposed to have the cameras in July and have the photo project up and running in time for term 3 this September. However, the cameras never made it. Now two months overdue, I have little hope that they will ever find their way through the less than perfect African mail system. Now to the reason of this post; I need cameras. I am not looking for brand new, latest technology cameras, only old used ones that are collecting dust somewhere (digital and preferably with rechargeable batteries). The rate at which technology changes these days, I know it is not uncommon to have old cameras lying around that you just don’t know how to properly dispose of. This is the perfect way to dispose of them. The learners here can get the opportunity to get their hands on some technology, make money, and have a heck of a lot of fun doing it. If you have an old camera that you would like to send over, send me an email and I will get you the information. Tangi unene!

When I first began my service I thought it strange that entrepreneurship was a subject being taught to grade 8, 9, and 10 students. When I was in 8th grade I doubt I even knew what the word meant and it wasn’t till college that I finally mastered the spelling of it. It is becoming apparent though why the subject has been introduced to such young learners; unemployment is extremely high in Namibia (over 50% in some regions) and many learners don’t have the means to continue their education beyond grade 10. Having basic business skills can become a valuable tool for learners when they finish their education. In fact, it is likely the most practical subject for them to fall back on. Since the beginning the entrepreneurship teacher has expressed to me his frustration with the current textbook being used at the school. At first I thought he was creating excuses but I have since come to realize that the textbook is holding these learners back. There are several publishers putting out texts that follow the syllabus but they are of varying qualities. The current text being used, although simple and easy to read, is lacking good practical material. Additionally, the exams at the end of each term are being set by the regional educational office which relies heavily on the better texts for creating the questions. Further setting these students back is the fact that there are not enough textbooks for each learner. It is commonly said that “in Africa we share” but that apparently doesn’t apply when it comes to textbooks. As a result of all of this, I have been motivated to get these learners better textbooks and enough for each learner. The lack of practicality and very low exam scores is not giving these learners the confidence they need with the subject. Without this confidence it is less likely that they will fall back on the skills they learned in class. It is my belief that better textbooks will improve the teaching in the classroom and make the learners more comfortable with entrepreneurship. To make this happen though I need your help. The school does not have the funds to buy new textbooks for all the learners in grades 8, 9, and 10. To raise the nearly US$2,000 dollars for the new books I will be fundraising with learners to raise 15% of the amount and the school will match that with another 15%. The remaining 70% I am trying to raise through the Peace Corps Partnership Program. If you are interested in donating you can follow the link at the top of the right sidebar which will take you to the Peace Corps website where you can get more information and make your donation. Any amount would truly be appreciated. Tangi Unene!

The gardening project that I have been working on with the women' s group has been progressing slowly; as is the nature of things in Africa. We would say that it is on “Africa time”. However, the grant money has been approved. The money will be used to install a water line, build a fence, buy all the tools and supplies, and build a small shaded nursery. The money has not arrived yet but once it does the work will begin. The women have remained active and seem to be quite eager. They are continuing to make the essential compost and they recently started digging the trench for the water line. Once the garden is built I will invite other volunteers here to give a full-fledged gardening workshop and will invite the Ministry of Agriculture to give the women cooperative training. It is our hope to have the first seeds in the ground in time for the rainy season in January. More updates to come…

A few weeks ago the grade 10 learners had the opportunity to participate in an entrepreneurship week at the school. It is required in the curriculum that they take part in an entrepreneurship day which is meant to give them the opportunity to practically apply what they have learned in class. I decided to organize the event to span an entire week to give the learners the chance to refine and improve their businesses. I also made it a competition where I judged them on their profit, creativity, advertising, quality, accounting, and noticeable improvements. All of the groups ultimately decided to sell different foods; not as creative as I would have liked to see, but they were successful nonetheless; they clearly know their market better than I. Feeding 250 hungry African children is not a bad gig.

Each of the 6 groups sold a variety of different foods. Some cooked traditional foods, bread, fries, meat, and others sold sweets and chips. Each group member contributed an amount of their choice that they used to buy their initial stock. After the first day most of the groups had made enough profit to go back to town and replenish their supplies.

The north central part of Namibia, consisting of the regions Oshana, Omusati, Ohangwena, and Oshikoto, is collectively known as Owamboland or O-Land for obvious reasons. Owamboland has of course been my home over the last 9 months. The people of O-Land are known as the Owambo and they make up over half of the Namibian population. It is the Owambo people who led the fight against South Africa for independence back in the 80’s and early 90’s and are now the dominant group in the Namibian government. The Owambo are divided into 8 different tribes; the Kwanyama, Ndonga, Ngandjera, Mbalantu, Kwaluudhi, Nkolokadhi, Eunda, and my tribe, the Kwambi. Each of these tribes have their own unique dialect and culture. My travels around Namibia have led to some amazing places. However, for many, but not all of these places something was missing. After passing through towns that resemble many rundown towns in the U.S., hitching rides with Afrikaners (white Africans of European descent), and wandering the streets of the urban and modern capitol, Windhoek, I realized that “Africa” was missing. When Africa comes to mind we generally think of big, dangerous wild animals, mud and grass huts, extreme poverty, and National Geographic images of people running around with no clothes. Well, Namibia indeed has all of this; it just may not be as widespread or in-your-face as other African nations. Luckily for me, Owamboland is a cultural heartland of the country. However, the Owambo have adopted the use of clothes, unlike our Himba neighbors just to the west. Last month things were culture packed. There is a government ministry dedicated to the preservation of the many unique Namibian cultures. Each year they hold a large cultural competition with each of the 13 regions represented. The competition begins at the local level which is exactly what happened this last June. Enguwantale has three cultural groups that compete. Two come from the school; a young youth group and an older youth group. Also, there is an adult culture group. The day of the cultural competition brought in groups from several of the smaller villages around Enguwantale. It was an amazing day which allowed me to experience a little known culture, Kwambi culture.

Props for the cultural performances. Items such as millet, sorghum, palm fruit, salt, and beans are displayed in traditional Owambo made baskets.

“Culture” consists of singing, dancing, drumming, and often a skit. Here, the older youth group from the school performs a traditional dance. The dancing is very unique; it is an aggressive display of jumping and stomping of the feet to the rhythm of clapping, drumming, and singing.

Unfortunately these are the only two boys from Enguwantale who are active in the culture group. They are very good dancers and have their own distinct style that is different than the girls.

I came to Namibia as a business development volunteer and with each passing day, I am becoming more of an agriculture volunteer. I have really embraced gardening and it is becoming a very fulfilling part of my service. Even though around 1% of Namibia is actually arable, I see small-scale vegetable production as a viable way for people to make an income. The vast majority of produce sold in Namibia is imported from South Africa. It is generally not of the best quality which prompted me to start my own garden. I put the first seeds in the ground in the beginning of January and by March I was enjoying fresh lettuce and carrots. A small victory, all things considered. I came here knowing very little about growing vegetables, especially growing vegetables in the nutrient-deprived sand. However, with Namibia’s 300 days of sunshine, I am given the opportunity to experiment and refine my methods year-round. Now, I am beginning to experiment with different bed-preparation and composting techniques. Instead of lettuce and carrots, I am now enjoying fresh onions and sweet potatoes.

My small gardening plot amongst the dry millet field in front of the homestead. I have recently begun experimenting with shading a planting bed using the millet stalks. Even though it is winter time, the mid-day sun is still scorching so I want to protect the small seedlings as much as possible. I had given up hope for the onions back in March when they had grown only a few inches in 2 months. However, after 6 months, they are now edible, and delicious. One of the biggest challenges has been the sand. It erodes away easily and after repeated watering a compacted layer develops under the surface. I am finding that this is becoming a problem for bulb and tuber vegetables. Not only is the eroding sand exposing the bulb but the compacted layer is stunting its development and forcing it to push out above the surface.

Upon returning to Namibia from Malawi, we swiftly made our way to the central part of the country to begin an 8-day backpacking trip. This walk, supposedly rated as one of Africa’s toughest, is a 120km loop in the Namib-Naukluft National Park. This park, one of the largest in Africa, is home to one of the oldest deserts in the world and the largest sand dunes on earth. The Naukluft section of the park is made up of rugged mountains and deep canyons that lie adjacent to the massive sea of sand. Above the mountains and canyons lies a massive plateau consisting of open grassland and rolling hills. It is a special area that for the most part, is un-penetrated by roads and aside from a few simple shelters, trail markers, and windmills, feels pristine. Our group of 6 came here to tackle the 8-day loop but unfortunately due to the unprecedented rainy season, the last two days of the trail were closed. However, due to the same reason, we got the opportunity to see the desert alive, in bloom, and pumping with water. So once again here is another series of photos from another very striking place.

In addition to the stunning scenery, the Naukluft Mountains have abundant wildlife. Spooking zebra here was about as common as spooking a whitetail doe in Montana. Pictured here are several oryx, or gemsbok, that we happened upon. Even though it may not be apparent in the picture, oryx are in my opinion one of Namibia’s most beautiful animals. The combination of long, straight horns, beige, black and white coat, and large horse-like tail makes for a very majestic critter.

Over the course of the 6 days our hike varied from walking in sandy river beds, scrambling up steep scree fields, crossing grassy meadows, wading up streams, to negotiating near vertical walls with the assistance of chains. The diversity of terrain was certainly a joy.

The last couple of months have certainly been transient for me, no thanks to an unexpected evacuation. Even though this has allowed me to see parts of Namibia I may have never seen, it hasn’t been particularly easy. In the end, the evacuation from my village lasted 2 months. I was not allowed to return home until only 2 days prior to the new school term. Reflecting on the last two months, I have seen a lot of sites and have had tons of new experiences. But, I am still a Peace Corps volunteer and it has been difficult being away from the work that I am dedicated to. I was forced to drop everything I had been working on at a moment’s notice, which was not easy. Furthermore, I had the uncertainty of how things would be once or if I returned to my village hanging over me during my time away. Integrating into this small community has not been easy and finding meaningful projects has been an uphill battle. That makes returning stressful and a bit scary. So I guess the point I am getting at is, that even though the last few posts on here have essentially been vacation, I am here as a volunteer and not as a tourist. That is one of the perks of being a PC volunteer placed in an extraordinary location, but that is certainly not what being a volunteer is all about. I have a job that I am committed to and I genuinely hope that after my two years here, I have left a mark. It is not an easy job and it is loaded with ups and downs that are quite taxing. However, it is a very special, unique, and rewarding experience. The evacuation is now over and life is back to normal in Owamboland. I have been back now for 2 weeks and am beginning to settle back into my old rhythm. It feels great to be back in the village and to be catching-up after being absent. It is looking like the next few months are going to my busiest yet. I am looking forward to it.

Over this last school holiday I decided it was time to venture beyond the borders of the country I now call home. While traveling overland through Zambia and onto Malawi I couldn’t help but think how remarkable this planet is. Prior to arriving in Namibia, Malawi was a country that barely registered in my mind as even existing. I knew next to nothing of this small country tucked in between Mozambique, Tanzania, and Zambia. Upon arriving in the country I was thrilled to find a vibrant culture, chaotic streets (in a good way, of course), stunning scenery, and a sense that I had just stumbled upon a very special place. Despite being one of the poorest countries in the world, Malawi has a lot to offer and is a place I will never forget. With that said, here is a handful of the highlights from several days in a very striking place.

One of the main attractions in Malawi is undoubtedly the lake. Lake Malawi is a beautiful body of water that covers nearly one fifth of the country. Lake Malawi is remarkable in that it has more fish species than any other inland body of water in the world. With over 500 species of fish, it is no wonder that fishing is a popular activity.

Lake Malawi is huge and while lazing around on the beach it is quite easy to imagine yourself sitting next to the ocean. The waters abound with activity from fishing boats battling the evening waves to reach their night fishing grounds to the peaceful locals commuting in their dugout canoes.

Southern Namibia, to me, is characterized by wide open spaces which of course I thoroughly enjoy. The landscapes seem so vast especially relative to the more congested north. In the north sometimes it is hard to get a breath. Even though there is a lot of open space, there are a lot of fences and no matter how hard I try, I am always in sight of a homestead. The south though is made up of huge grazing areas and uninhabitable terrain. It is a whole other country. Not too far out of the town of Keetmanshoop is a rare forest made up of Quiver Trees. Quiver Trees occur throughout Southern Namibia and parts of South Africa but few other places have such a dense concentration. The Quiver Tree gets its name because it was traditionally used by the Nama people to make quivers for their arrows. The Quiver Tree is in the aloe family and pretty much resembles a typical aloe plant but with long branches and a big trunk. The forest is beautifully set amongst soft grasses swaying in the wind and reddish tinged rocks. With that said, here are some photos from around the area.

A typical Quiver Tree, Aloe Dicotoma, or Kokerboom in Afrikaans. Like no other tree I have ever seen before.

It was too easy to waste away an afternoon walking in the forest and admiring the odd shapes and colors.

My evacuation from the north continues which of course has had its pros and cons. It is difficult having to walk away from my work not knowing when I will be able to return and if I will be able to easily pick up where I left off. The evacuation has been extended for another week due to continued rains and an expected surge of water from Angola. With this extension comes the realization that I will not be able to continue my work until the middle of May. The school term ends shortly which means village life quiets down and leaves me with next to nothing to do. So come the middle of May when school starts again, I will be left with the burden of getting myself out of vacation mode and back into work mode; something I am not looking forward to. However, being down in the south has been wonderful because it has given me the chance to visit places over the weekends that I would have maybe never been able to see. That of course has been the pro of being evacuated from the north into the desert south. Although brief, my weekend trips have been amazing and have only strengthened my fascination with this country. As is par for the course, hitchhiking has been the mode of transport and this has proven to be a highlight of travel in this country due to the fascinating people you meet. I have been taken aback by the diversity of this country; from the people and cultures to the landscapes and nature. First stop: Luderitz. This small coastal town is like nothing I have ever experienced before. Luderitz is in the heart of diamond country and is surrounded by restricted diamond mining areas. Entering the town is fascinating as the highway turns from canyon country, to harsh moonlike landscapes, to giant golden dunes, to finally the rocky morbid outcrop of land that is Luderitz. More like a Nova Scotian fishing hamlet than an African coastal town, Luderitz is quite possibly like nowhere else on this planet. There is a harsh loneliness to the place punctuated by the cold persistent wind, empty colonial looking streets, lack of vegetation, and frigid water crashing on the rocks. But this is what makes Luderitz so wonderful. After 8 months of heat, I was thrilled to finally have to bundle up, put the hood over my ears, and blow into my hands to keep them warm. A very unique African experience!

The streets of Luderitz; not the typical African street congested with food vendors, goats, and general chaos. I have never been to Germany but as the name implies, this town has a very German feel.

I figure since I am exiled from the north that now is a good time to catch up on the blog. Since Namibia is in the southern hemisphere the seasons are opposite of the seasons in the states. You all are likely looking forward to warmer temps and some sunshine after a long gloomy winter. Me, I am looking forward to some cooler temps, shorter days, and drier weather. And believe it or not, Namibia does have distinct seasons. It is autumn now and the nights are cooler and of course the days are getting shorter. The leaves are starting to dry and drop off the branches, the grasses are beginning to get their yellow tinge, and the rains are becoming less frequent. I first arrived in the north back in October, spring time here. Things were still dry and crisp from the long, dry Namibian winter but over my first 5 months in the village the landscape underwent an amazing transformation. Summer in the north is the rainy season and this rain brings the much needed water that stimulates growth. The fields are planted with mahangu, maize, sorghum, and beans. The rain water fills into the low spots transforming an otherwise desert landscape into a wetland. There is more wildlife, especially birds, and the sounds of the insects can almost be deafening at times. Here is a series of photos showing you how the area has changed with the season.

During the winter the fields outside the homestead are nothing but dusty, sandy plots of land that seem like the least probable place to grow crops.

It feels like it has been a long time since I last posted here. Maybe this is a sign that time is flying by without me even knowing it. I am finding that it is pretty easy to fall into a routine in the village and to totally lose touch with what is happening beyond my isolated village. In a way this is good because it has kept me focused and dedicated to my work at the school and in the community. Over the last few weeks I have become very comfortable with my life in the village and despite being the only white person around I feel like I am just like my host family, colleagues, and neighbors. I find myself staring at white people when I go to town now. The last couple of months have officially been the rainy season. It has remained pretty unexciting until recently. If you look at a map of Namibia you will notice that Owamboland in the north looks like a giant inland river delta. Water appears to fan out all over this flat land from a single point in Angola. Looking further south, there is the great Etosha Pan which essentially is a natural reservoir collecting all this Angolan runoff. For the majority of the year this water is nonexistent on the surface but during the rainy season the ground becomes so saturated that the rain waters collect on the surface. In a normal year this water collects and passes with little incidence. However, this year is different. Rains in Owamboland along with heavy persistent rains in Angola have lead to severe flooding in Northern Namibia, hence the title of this posting, “moved”. I wanted to say evacuated, which is my current situation, but PC does not like that term. I have been moved. Despite the danger and hardship resulting from the flooding, it can be quite beautiful. The landscape is transformed from a semi-arid desert into a majestic wetland. It is amazing to see and experience this transformation.

I am now in the Southern town of Rehoboth, worlds away from the North. I have been officially triple evacuated from the north. I first abruptly left my village last week after a bridge leading into my village appeared on the national news. The bridge was underwater and nearly impassable. The next morning I received the call that a PC vehicle was on its way to get me out. It happened quickly and it was difficult for me to drop my work and go home to hastily pack my bag. It was especially difficult because there was no immediate threat in my village. Aside from a few swollen ponds and mud puddles, the flooding situation seemed nothing out of the ordinary, and in fact had been worse a month ago. But after making the trip out I quickly realized that the situation was deteriorating outside of the village. After carefully crossing the bridge in the PC Land Cruiser and seeing the road getting washed away, I knew it was time for me to get out of there.

Term 1 is in full swing now and the atmosphere in Enguwantale has changed. After a long Christmas break the school and village have come to life and there is a fresh energy about. There is no doubt that the area’s children are the lifeblood of this community. Life seems to now revolve around the school schedule. Women from the village now make their daily trip to the school to sell the children snacks and the shops open only after school is finished when the students pass through on their walk home.

Enguwantale Combined School is considered “combined” because it includes children from primary, junior -primary, secondary, and junior-secondary class levels. This means that children from grade 1 to 10 attend the school. In the states, children in the same class are generally about the same age. However, that is not the case here. The student’s ages from class to class vary drastically. In fact, the 7th graders told me that the youngest in the class was 12 while the oldest was 21! The students don’t only come from Enguwantale but from many of the surrounding villages. I am told that some of the students have to walk between 1 and 2 hours to come to school. But at least there is none of that “uphill both ways” business. ECS is considered a “bush” school due to its remoteness, so these students walking several hours a day are certainly living deep in the bush.

This year there are about 265 students attending with the largest class being the 8th grade class with 70 students. 8th grade tends to be a major hurdle for the students so a good portion of the class is made up of repeaters. There are 13 teachers in total, including the principal. For the upper grades (6 -10) the teachers rotate from period to period teaching different subjects. The lower grades have just one teacher. There is a wide variety of classes: physical science, math, life science, life skills, English, Oshindonga (the local language), agriculture, geography, and entrepreneurship. The school days run Monday through Friday with classes starting at 8:00 and ending at 2:00. The upper grades stick around for study until 4:00. An unfortunate statistic about the school is that it is estimated that upwards of 60% of the students are considered orphaned or vulnerable. This means that they have lost one or both parents and/or are living with HIV/AIDS. But this is hardly noticeable. These students are so full of life and eager to take on the world.

The vast majority of my time now is spent at the school. As a volunteer here, I am supposed to play a role in the school as well as in the community. The community aspect of my job is very slow going since the village is quiet most of the day and Enguwantale isn’t exactly buzzing with economic activity. At the school, I am working with the entrepreneurship teacher and helping him make the curriculum more practical and hands-on for the learners and helping him with content that he does not understand. I have been developing different games, role plays, assignments, and case studies for the students. What this means is that the teacher does the teaching while I occasionally take a period and do a fun activity with the children. Of course, having this role has been very enjoyable. The students aren’t entirely used to me or my accent yet. They often have to tell me to speak slower and even then they all still won’t understand. I will ask them if they understand and of course they will say “yes”. There are times when I know this isn’t the case so I will ask them in the local language, “Omu uvite ko?”. This will get a lot of laughs and a very enthusiastic “NO!”.

It is hard for me to believe that the school term is already 5 weeks in. Looking back at my first 6 weeks at site, I was wondering what I was going to do and how I was going to keep myself busy here for two years. But now, my role in the school has become more apparent and time is flying by. I admire the children here in so many different ways and I am really enjoying having the opportunity to have a presence at the school.

Morning assembly which occurs every Monday and Friday. The assembly starts with singing, a prayer and bible reading, the singing of the national anthem, and finishes with announcements from the principal. Announcements can vary from school and class news to more important issues like making sure that the kids do not allow their goats on the school grounds. Last week, a student announced that he had lost his donkeys the night before and was hoping that someone had seen them on their walk to school. Sure enough, someone had, and off he went running to fetch his donkeys.

One of my 8th grade classes. This class is probably my favorite. They are full of energy and we have a lot of fun together. Everytime I enter the room it is like they are having a shouting contest to see who can say “good morning, sir!” the loudest. And of course, they love the camera.

The school grounds consist of four blocks of classrooms situated around a courtyard with several nice shade trees.

The school was supplied several mango trees from the government to plant on the school grounds. Each grade received a tree to plant. We had a tree planting day and it was a lot of fun to make the rounds and see how each grade worked together to plant their tree.

The students are certainly not camera shy. Once the camera comes out they are quick to strike a pose and flash their gang sign. I believe that the gun hand sign is actually the symbol of a local Owambo rapper call the the Dogg. I have a lot of work ahead me….Every Wednesday is athletics after school. Only a handful of students actually get to participate fully where they get the opportunity to go to the city for occasional track meets. Here, we were conducting time trials to see which students would make the team. There is a very fast 7th grade girl who was able to snag the top spots in the 100m, 200m, and 400m at a regional meet in Oshakati.

After returning home from a couple weeks of vacation I quickly realized that I just hadn’t had enough (go figure). So two other PCV’s and myself decided to make a weekend trip to Ruacana Falls. The falls sit along the Angola- Namibia border and are created by the hippo and crocodile infested Kunene River spilling out of Angola. They are certainly a site to be seen, despite the hydroelectric project that diverts a good portion of the water from the falls. I was amazed at how the Kunene seemed to widen prior to taking the plunge which results in a dispersed and complex cascade.

Much in line with the rest of my travels thus far, hitchhiking was the mode of transport. Hiking West out of Oshakati was no problem up until about 17km of the falls. The paved road ends at the falls and with the last major population center behind us, traffic was very light. After over an hour of waiting and with a storm approaching we were finally picked up by two tourists in a rented 4x4. Jonathan, a US Navy chaplain recently returned from Afghanistan, and Allister, a South African born American citizen, were planning on heading all the way to a waterfall further downstream that afternoon (some 125km of rough 4x4 road). Ruacana was under their radar, so after dropping us off they were impressed and decided to spend the night there. The five of us spent a rainy night in no-man’s land (literally; we left Namibia, but never entered Angola…so a country-less chunk of land) after receiving permission from the Angolan border guard who didn’t speak a lick of English. Not my most comfortable night’s sleep…

The mighty Ruacana, and according to some, not even at its mightiest.The next morning it was assumed that we would go our separate ways. However, stars aligned and before we knew it we were bumping along in the back seats of Jonathan’s and Allister’s Toyota. We had just snagged a hitchhike through a very remote and spectacular part of Namibia. The 4x4 track leaves most civilization as it follows the Kunene River/Angolan border to another falls, Epupa, where a gravel road from the South comes in. At the last proper village before the road gets really rough, we were advised not to make the journey. We were getting mixed stories. Due to the recent rains we were being told that the river was flowing across the road in places, a huge rock was blocking the path, and the road had washed out. The last people to pass through a few days prior ended up getting stuck for several hours. However, according to the locals, the only thing we really had going for us was that there was 5 of us; that meant 4 people to push while one spun the tires in the mud. After about 30 seconds of discussion and a disregarded coin toss, we were waving good-bye to the village and bumping along into the middle of no-where.

An incredibly rough and steep section of the road. If it weren’t for the aluminum running boards, the pick-up may have survived the drive relatively unscathed.

One of several river crossings (not crossing the Kunene though)

Some serious bush driving. However, no one ever had to get out and push.

The road took us through some amazing country. At times the road would follow the lush palm fringed banks of the river and at other times it would divert up through steep, rocky sections that offered great views of the surrounding area. The road also brought us through Himba country. The Himba are the archetypical African people. They have inhabited Namibia for about 200 years. They were victims of several ethnic battles and towards the end of the 19th century they finally found success in the battlefields and were able to steal a bunch of cattle and goats. This allowed them to move to the northwestern part of Namibia and live in peace and quit. Unlike the rest of Namibia, Christian missionaries were unsuccessful in “civilizing” the Himba, and as a result they still live in their traditional ways and wear their traditional attire. The Himba were people I was expecting to run across at some point during my time here, but I was still surprised and in awe as we passed through their settlements. Observing these people surviving entirely off the grid and leading very simple lives was amazing to say the least. I felt that I was truly in Africa. However, I felt a bit guilty to be passing through. These people are practicing a way of life that few people on this planet still follow and I feel that this is something that should be preserved. There is a lot that we, from the “civilized” world, could learn from people like this and once our ways flood into their culture, those lessons will be lost. With that said, I still took my photos and gawked like a tourist.

Himba homestead

Himba in their traditional and everyday attire.

In the end, the road turned out to be not near as ferocious as we were lead to believe. It was passable despite the handful of river crossings, severely rocky and rutted stretches, and the occasional mud hole. So after a day and a half of driving we finally emerged at the quiet paradise of Epupa. Over the course of the 125km the landscape changed quite drastically. We left the lush forests and dampness of Ruacana and arrived at the red-rock, hot, and arid semi-desert of Epupa. Standing above the falls of Epupa it was hard to believe that this was the same river. And yet the river keeps flowing from here, dividing the two countries all the way to the Atlantic. I can only imagine the other miraculous landscapes that this river carves through. A true testament to the diverse and varying beauty of Namibia.

The main part of the falls; the water cascades into the gorge nearly 360 degrees around.

The Kunene broadens before the falls, resulting in a maze of gorges and falling water.

Where to start… over the Christmas holiday I finally got the opportunity to explore this vast and diverse country that I now call home. Over the course of two weeks, five others and I explored the mountains and coast of central Namibia. Our journey took us to some stunning, bizarre, and beautiful places. It was very refreshing to see more of this country and I now have a greater love and respect for this place. Since there was so much that happened over the two weeks I will not bore you with a wordy post, but instead tell the story with pictures. There is no way that I can sum up the trip in pictures or words but hopefully this will give you a taste of our journey in an absolutely amazing place. The first leg of our journey took us to the Erongo Mountains outside of the small town of Omaruru. We spent two nights at a remote campsite set on a plateau on the edge of the mountains. Camping and campsites are very common in Namibia so the trip was strictly out of our tents. It was here that we camped under a full moon and got to simultaneously watch the moonrise as the sun set. Namibia is a desert country and water is scarce. From Omaruru we paid someone to take us the 40km to our camp in Erongo. However, when it was time to leave there was no one around to pay to get us out of there. As a result, we decided to hike it out of there, not by the road, but through the bush. It appeared much shorter to A-line it out of there. However, risky, since temperatures were pushing 120 degrees and of course due to a lack of water availability. Long story short, any opportunity we could get to refill our water bottles, we would certainly try….even if it meant climbing a windmill on a windless day and manually turning the pump. Sam was the one brave enough to take this on, but unfortunately, it was an unsuccessful effort. We lucked out though; we later found a cow trough to drink from. After spending the night in a dry, baboon infested riverbed, we luckily found a ride out of the Erongo Mountains and eventually made our way to what is known as the Matterhorn of Africa, the Spitzkoppe. Rising out of the empty desert, the Spitzkoppe, as arid as the land that surrounds it, is an oasis to any mountain lover. The Spitkoppe is up there with one of the most amazing places I have visited.

The last two weeks have been spent near the Namibian capitol of Windhoek. Peace Corps requires that we attend various training events throughout our service and this was the first such training. All the volunteers from the August group converged on a mountaintop conference center on the edge of the city. PC has determined that the city itself is not safe for all of us at one time so they decided to host the training at an isolated venue set in the mountains outside of the city….shucks.

Even though this wasn’t my first visit to Windhoek, it was my first opportunity to explore the city and the surrounding mountains. Windhoek is probably not the typical national capitol; it is more of a large town with a population of only about 200,000 people. It is a beautiful place nestled in a semi-arid mountain valley at around 5,500 feet. Besides the sprawling slums on the edges of the city, Windhoek is a surprisingly clean and orderly city. Walking around downtown is a bit too much like walking around downtown in any comparably-sized American town. On top of that, Windhoek is surrounded by lots of open space. The city is surrounded by mountains on all sides which provide wonderful off-trail hiking and wildlife viewing opportunities. And that is exactly how my free time was spent during the two weeks. With hiking available right outside the front door, I made sure to take advantage of the opportunity. It was not unusual to spot baboons and on a couple of occasions we spotted kudu, Namibia's majestic spiral horned animal. A tasty animal for that matter. Another joy of Windhoek...the food. While in the city I took advantage of the culinary delights and enjoyed a fat zebra steak and sampled kudu. Not quite like the elk I love so much back home, but it will suffice.

Not too far out of Windhoek and one can enjoy wonderful desert walking.

Night approaches the city

A world away from the flat North

Enjoying the scenery and thinner air

Kudu...almost just as fascinating dead as alive

As you already know, my site is in one of the most topographically challenged places I have ever called home. But don't worry, I promise, you will not have to hear me complain about it anymore. For me, being placed in such a place has only added to the routine ups and downs of Peace Corps service. It is just one more element that has made this a bit more difficult and it is not something that I can just tuck away into the back of my mind. I have to face this flat reality everyday. However, even though nature here is lacking in some features, they are adequately made up for in other ways. With that said, here is some of the beauty I am starting to recognize in my flat home...

The clouds here develop into the mountains I am longing for. The massive formations that grace the skies almost every evening are a welcomed contrast to the grassy plains.

Again, phenomenal clouds. As the sun creeps towards the horizon the vibrant colors that are reflected onto the clouds is amazing. I can easily waste away the afternoon watching the changes in the massive storm clouds.

And then the clouds erupt. The storms are like nothing I have ever seen before. The lightning comes in an unceasing attack on the land and the thunder absolutely shakes you from your seat. In case you are wondering, this picture was taken over the course of 25 seconds, so all this lightning did not occur at a single moment.

There is always lots of fire in the sky. I am a sucker for sunsets and I am luckily in a place where the setting sun always impresses and inspires.

6 weeks now at site and I am finally feeling fully settled in and comfortable in my new house. In Owamboland the typical living arrangement is on a homestead. A homestead is essentially a walled cluster of huts and buildings where a family, and often extended family, will live. A traditional homestead consists of several mud and thatch huts walled in by either logs, sticks, or reeds. From what I understand, the tradition is that the men sleep in the huts nearest the entrance so that if an attack occurs the men can protect the women from being kidnapped. My homestead is instead semi-traditional. The compound is enclosed by a brick wall and instead of mud huts, brick and concrete buildings. However, it is arranged in a similar manner with the male houses nearest the entrance. Also in line with tradition, the homestead has a traditional wood or dung fired cooking area and a small building designed for pounding the millet into flour.

I essentially have my own house. However, there are other rooms in the house that are used by my host mother's grown children when they come and visit. My host mother, Meme Beata Akawa, lives in the main house by herself. I also share the homestead with a revolving line-up of children. There have been three consistent youngsters, Issak, Beata, and Kalinga who are all attending the local school. I am sure that young Issak is my host mother's grandson but I haven't figured out the relationship of the others yet. From time to time, it is not uncommon for other children to stop buy and spend a week or two. So, needless to say, it is an interesting and dynamic living situation, but it has been very enjoyable having the children around and a host mother who treats me like one of her own.

Besides the human inhabitants, there is a variety of animal life at the homestead. There are of course the goats, cows, pigs, chickens, cats, and one dog, which I am told is not ours, but despite that, it spends all of its time around the homestead. And now that the rain has come, our space has to be shared with several clumsy, softball-sized toads. Then there are the snakes... I am learning the art of snake tracking. Every couple of days a snake track has been appearing inside the homestead and thus far we have lost a couple of chickens. This is not taken lightly and each new snake track warrants a thorough investigation. Believe me, when I notice that there is only a single track coming in, with no track going out, I walk around a bit more cautiously. However, we are still to catch the sneaky critter.

Not quite the stereotypical PC mud hut that you might have expected me to be living in. My homestead is considered semi-traditional in that it is arranged in a traditional way but the buildings are not traditional huts. However, it is by no means luxury: there is no running water, no toilet, and when the rain pounds on my tin roof I am reminded of my time spent refueling jet aircraft.

This is my simple kitchen, certainly one of my favorite places to unwind. I am fully equipped with a gas stove and an electric fridge. As you can see, there are two stoves, but only one works, however the other one is being put to good use as a cupboard and counter-top. Cooking is becoming one of my favorite past-times and is a relaxing way to spend my down time.

All Owambo homesteads have a very important meeting place. This area, which is enclosed by logs, is near the entrance and is where any first-time visitor must go directly to after entering. The visitor must sit and wait until the home-owner comes to greet them. I was required to do this my first time visiting the homestead and at every other homestead I have visited since. Even though it may feel a little awkward sitting on a log by yourself in someone else's home, it feels distinctly African, and because if that, it is absolutely wonderful.

The Loo and all its glory. My house may not have indoor plumbing, but who needs indoor plumbing when you have such a charming place to come and take care of business. There are a few tricks to get the most out of the loo experience...despite the nonfunctional looking door, with the right amount of patience and brute strength, one can get the door to hang in such a way to provide a little bit of privacy... at least until the wind kicks up. I have also learned that it is good habit to give the can a couple kicks before sitting down just to make sure the resident gecko knows its time to vacate. I try not to think what else is down the hole.

It is often difficult for me to think up what I will compose for each new posting. It’s not there isn’t anything going on, there is a lot of stuff I can write about. There is my living condition; I am sure many of you are curious about how I am living, with who, what am I eating…. Or the school and the students, or any progress I have made on projects in the community. But there is a lot of time for that stuff. The purpose of the blog isn’t necessarily to give you a play-by-play of what I am up to. It is for me too. When I create a post that is going to be available to the public, it forces me to look back on things in a different manner. I have to take a different look at my situation and decide how I want to convey the experience in a manner that is appropriate. Because of that, the blog is a great outlet for me to reflect.

As you have seen from the last post, I have found no point in glamorizing my life here in Africa. My initial weeks haven’t been easy. I have been taken away from the mountain environments that I hold so dear, and put in a place that is flat, I mean seriously flat. The rest of Namibia is at least blessed with the scattered presence of 10 foot termite mounds, but for some reason, Enguwantale is an anomaly; I don’t even have a termite mound to climb to the top of. On top of that, I am an outsider in a fairly isolated community. These are pretty big changes to one’s life.

However, by no means am I disappointed in how this has turned out. Only 3 months into this 2 year journey and I have already sensed things I have never sensed before. There are of course the new sights, sounds, and smells. But there are also all new emotions and new ways of thinking. It doesn’t matter how hard things get, to have the opportunity to get new experiences like this is worth any uphill battle.

I am finding out more and more that my camera is more than just a device to capture and share what I am seeing. It is becoming a valuable tool for reflecting on what I have seen. Going through my pictures from the last two weeks I came to realize that for every moment that I captured there is more going on than meets the eye. So here are a few of my favorite pictures from the last couple of weeks and a bit more on what is really going on.

Learning a different way to do things

This is my host sister, Kalinga, fishing the local mud hole. First, I would have never thought that fish could live in such soupy sludge; there are fish in there believe it or not. Not surprisingly, they are not very tasty, but the people here seem to love them. Second, the idea of fishing with a line and hook does not exist. Kalinga is fishing with a basket that she seems to just throw into the mud uncalculated. But, there must be some calculation; she is often quite successful. A huge part of this entire PC experience is learning how do live in an entirely new way. There is more than one way to do things and this learning process is an amazing experience.

New experiences

Enguwantale Combined School was recently awarded money from the Millenium Challenge Account which is being spent to expand the school giving the students more classrooms, a science lab, and offices for the staff. Construction began last week and that meant new faces and new machinery passing through the community. To the students this was quite exciting. Watching a big truck dump its load of gravel was worthy of skipping out on class for. For us from the states, not too exciting. But to students at an African bush school, priceless. What these children experience and know is so minimal. For the majority of this planet, the world has been getting smaller. However, out here, the extent of this planet is unfathomable. The world is still extremely vast to these learners.

Special Moments

My new living situation is one in which I am living on a small farm. My host mother owns around 30 head of cattle, 50 goats, pigs, and chickens. Living on a farm is something I have embraced. Each evening my little host brother, Isaak, and I make the trek out into the fields to corral the cows and goats. It is something I look forward to everyday and is the perfect way to unwind. Driving the cows home with the big setting sun on the horizon is certainly a special moment.

A contagious energy

I had heard rumors that a culture group existed at the school but could not find out any details about their meetings. Come to find out, the culture group, made up of students from different grades, won a regional competition a while back and at the end of the month will be heading to the coastal town of Swakopmund for a national competition. For many of the students, this will be their first time seeing the ocean. Last week, I got to witness them perform for the first time. It was an amazing performance with dancing, singing, and drumming. The energy that all the children have is so great to be around and is certainly contagious. I am looking forward to my time with them and already they are beginning to take a special place in my heart.

I am happy to report that I have survived the first two weeks of Peace Corps service. I wish I could say that these weeks have been action packed and filled with great moments of triumph. However, that is not the case. The weeks have passed by slowly with their fair share of ups and downs.

It was exciting to return to my new home, Enguwantale. This time of course I knew I was moving here for the long haul and knew exactly what to expect. It was no surprise to find it exactly as I had left it; flat, hot, and dusty. It was great to see my new host family again and was surprised to find that my host mother had decided to electrify my house. I was prepared and actually looking forward to living with only one light bulb. However, I do have to admit that the electricity is nice to have especially when cooking food after dark. It is still by no means luxury though; there is no running water and no bathroom. All in all, I am very pleased with my new living situation and am settled in enough to call it home.

Most of my days have been spent at the school which is about a 10 minute walk from home. The days begin at 8:00 and finish at 3:00. As a SEED volunteer my assignment is to split my work between the school and the community. I am expected to work closely with the entrepreneurship teacher at the school and co-plan and co-teach with him. So I have been sitting in on the grade 8 and 9 entrepreneurship classes and trying to brainstorm ways to make the curriculum more practical. At times it is hard for me to keep my eyes open and I can tell the students are in the same boat. There is not a lot of interest in the subject due to the lack of practicality. That is where I will hopefully come in.

Besides sitting in on the classes I really haven’t been doing much else except familiarizing myself with the material. In fact, it has been very boring. Unfortunately, these boring times can wear on the moral and has made me question what I am doing here and how am I ever going to keep busy for two years? There have been plenty of moments like this. However, there are “up” moments that come along and bring me back around. The other day the principal asked me to monitor an 8th grade period that was lacking a teacher. I was reluctant to do so. Just me and 25 Namibian 8th graders did not sound like a real enjoyable experience. However, I went to class and spent the next hour with the students. It was a very eye-opening experience. Instead of just sitting there and making sure they kept quiet, like I was expected to do, I engaged them and we ended up having a lot of fun together. At the end of the period, on my way out the door they were thanking me. For what? I wasn’t sure then but now know that they were thankful that I took the step to get to know them and to let them teach me their language; certainly an inspiring moment. Even though the moments of doubt are more frequent right now, the up moments are much more powerful.

On the community side of my assignment…not much happening there. There is less structure in this aspect of my assignment, so it has been more difficult to get traction in that direction. I am not entirely comfortable spending time in the village alone yet since there is a bit of a language barrier. And as can be expected, the village is still weary of having a new foreign member. But I have met a handful of people who seem to appreciate my presence and are motivated to start working with me. These are certainly relationships I am going to embrace and am looking forward to strengthening.

So that is my first two weeks as a Peace Corps Volunteer in a nutshell. Even though it has had its moments, I am thrilled to be here. Each interaction with a new person gives me new ideas and insight into what my potential is here. I think there is a lot to be done here, and with patience and tenacity this will be a very rewarding adventure.

Commencing the evening round-upThe homestead

Kalinga happy after the cows have been corralled

Sunsetting over the homestead. Enguwantalecan be seen in the background

The past five days have been spent on the Sinai Peninsula in the small, but touristy, town of Dahab. The area has some spectacular scenery. The town sits smack dab between the Red Sea and the steep, rugged mountains of the peninsula. The sea itself is a wonderful turquoise and has abundant fish and coral life. Right off shore there are great reefs with a wide variety of colorful fish. Contrasting starkly with this is the dry and barren mountains. The mountains rise ruggedly to around 8,000 feet and despite a total lack of vegetation, they are beautiful. All of this combined makes for a truly amazing setting. My time has been split between soaking in the sea, snorkeling, exploring desert and canyons by jeep, and making a night hike to the top of Mt. Sinai (where Moses received the Ten Commandments) to catch the sunrise. All wonderful trips but it would take too much to go into detail. Besides, I will be home soon. There is a lot of potential for adventure here, however my time is limited so I have been getting packaged up and rushed around to see the sights. By "packaged" I mean handing over the money to someone else and letting them get me there and showing me around. Not exactly the way I enjoy traveling, but as I am finding out, Egypt is that type of place. Tourism is the name of the game here so everything is pretty much handed to you. But on the bright side, if something goes wrong I can blame someone else! It is well worth it though, Egypt is an amazing country with some fascinating history. I will be itching for some time to return.

Dahab

Sinai sunset

Wandering through the White Canyon

Taking in the sunrise from atop the mountain

Besides the sites, I have certainly been enjoying the food (of course I have to mention food). Egyptian cuisine gets knocked on pretty hard when compared to other regional cuisines like Israeli and Lebanese, but I have never been to those countries, so my palette isn't ruined. I am finding the food here quite delightful. Falafel has been a staple in my diet. The falafel itself is deep-fried and stuffed into a pita with different sauces and topped with salad. Delicious and cheap...perfect. There are variations of this as well with essentially spiced refried beans or spiced ground meat instead of falafel. Tea is the favorite drink here, for the locals and me as well. It is done really well with a loose black tea, lots of sugar, and fresh mint; really tasty. Also, there is a refreshing drink of boiled, sweetened, and chilled hibiscus. After a hot slog through the streets of Cairo, this is especially a refreshing treat.

This was only the appetizerSo my days here are coming to close quickly. One more quick jaunt out to the western desert and then I will be finding myself on a plane home. I am excited to return to Missoula but of course will miss the freedom that comes with travel.

The last couple of days have been a whirlwind tour of Cairo and the surrounds. I am finding out that the combination of heat and congestion make this place exhausting. However, it is well worth it. I spent an entire day wandering the streets and riding the subway exploring various parts of the city. I visited Old Cairo which has amazing old churches connected by narrow cobbled alleyways. On the other end of the spectrum I visited what is called Islamic Cairo (not that any one part of Cairo is more Islamic than another). Here, there is a busy market amongst massive old mosques. Overall, the history and architecture of Cairo make it a fascinating city. In addition, the everyday life of the Egyptians is fascinating. The traffic is crazy and death defying. It is certainly not pedestrian friendly. Luckily I have mastered a technique for crossing the streets; get on the downside of an Egyptian also crossing and move when he/she moves, essentially using them as a shield from the oncoming traffic. It is has worked out flawlessly, so far. I am also finding that Cairo has some amazing cyclists. There are fellas on old rickety bikes that deliver pita bread. They carry huge flat crates filled with the bread on top of their heads and magically drift in and out of the traffic. It blows my mind that they stay on the bike, or keep the bread on their head for that matter.

The very impressive Al-Azhar MosqueStreets of Coptic CairoBesides hanging out in the city proper, I have gotten out and seen two different pyramid sites. Much to my surprise, there are many more pyramids out in the desert than the famous Giza Pyramids. The desert runs right into the edge of Cairo and along this line there are several pyramids (maybe 20 – 30, but an archeologist might say otherwise), some more intact than others. I visited a sight called Saqqara which is said to have been a burial site for more than 3500 years. Here, there are several crumbling pyramids and underground tombs to explore. Of course, in addition to visiting this site, I went to gaze at the Pyramids of Giza. These structures are truly amazing and are even bigger than they appear in the photos. It is mindboggling that humans had the ability to put these things together over 4000 years ago. What more is there to say? Still standing tallDesert Honda...Desert Cadilac

So after a couple of chaotic days in the city I am ready to unwind a bit on some beaches, which is exactly what I am going to do.

Salam Alykum!

So after a couple of quick flights over the Sahara I have left behind the humid heat of Ghana and am now roasting in the dry heat of Cairo. This is an absolutely amazing place. For a person who doesn't necessarily enjoy city life, I am thrilled to be in another exotic mega-city. Much like Delhi or Mumbai, Cairo has its own pulse, but in an Islamic kind of way. As I sit here typing this, the streets below echo with the enchanting "call to prayer".

Cairo has an estimated population of around 18 million, mega indeed. Everything about this place is stunning. From the towering minarets of the numerous mosques to the relaxed feel along the banks of the Nile. The traffic is crazy, the smells overwhelming, and the chaos strangly enjoyable. I haven't had too much time to soak it all in yet, I arrived only hours ago, but I am looking forward to a day wandering the streets and discovering what else the city beholds. Of course I plan on visiting the Pyramids of Giza but other than that I am keeping my plans flexible. I may head to the Sinai Peninsula and the Red Sea and maybe head into the interior and explore the oases in the desert. There is so much to see here and unfortunately the two weeks I have will not be enough to fully explore the country. But I should get a good sampling and I am sure there is going to be some excitement, as I am already feeling like there is that potential. So I will leave it at that for now until I fully dive in. Here are a few pictures I took today around the neighborhood. Hope you enjoy!

The river Nile

The streets of CairoOne of many minarets shooting into the sky

So the saga continues, but unfortunately all the excitement is over.

So down the road we go, probably another 2-3 hours more to Mole N.P. We managed to make it there without any more major catastrophes, only one near miss. The driver at one point lost control (I think he fell asleep or something)and drove right into the bushes and nearly rolled the van. Half of us dove out while the others leaned way over to the other side to prevent the van from rolling on its side. I was pretty sure the van was finished with and we were going to have to spend another night in the bush, but we got it back aligned on the road and were off again. Later in the day we finally made it to the park, exhausted, dirty, and hungry.

Mole (pronounced mole-ay) is certainly the gem of all of Ghana's national parks. The highlight is it's wildlife, especially elephants. The place is abundant with wildlife, including several species of antelope, deer, warthogs, baboons, monkeys, and probably countless birds and insects. Rumor has it that lions exist somewhere in the park. Several of these species have become pretty habituated to humans so at times it could feel more like a zoo. The hotel in the park had baboons and warthogs right out the door and elephants weren't too far away. Despite this though, it was fun to sneak out and wander around in the bush to observe the animals in a more natural setting.

Mole was the ultimate destination for this journey so from here I shot back south to Cape Coast. The journey back went smoothly, much to my relief. Even though this leg was less eventful than the journey up, there is still that excitement that exists from just being in a foreign place. It is a real joy for me traveling exclusively by public transport. It is not necessarily comfortable but fascinating. There is so much to see, from sitting at a crowded, noisy, and dirty bus station anticipating the next bus, to watching the country go by through the window. There is a lot for the senses to process and that is what makes travel so wonderful.

Safety first

Ancient Mosque in nearby Larabanga

Savanna sunset

Continuing where I left off last time...

Tamale is a major town in the Northern Region of the country. The environment changes pretty drastically from the south. I have heard many say that northern Ghana is Africa while the south is the Caribbean. I believe it. It is drier and feels very vast. The dense, tall forests are replaced with savanna that is dominated by open grassland peppered with small trees. This part of Ghana is also predominately Muslim whereas the south is Christian. So it is a new Africa to me and very exciting.

After the boat rides I hooked up with a great English couple who were on the same itinerary as me. We arrived in Tamale late in the afternoon and were hoping to make the 5 hour journey to Mole N.P. that evening. However, we missed the last bus. Luckily though there was a group of folks from Belgium wanting to get there as well. There was enough of us to justify hiring a van off the street. We found a driver who was willing to take us in on the notoriously bumpy and dusty road. So we all piled in along with the mate (driver's assistant) and a small boy off the street who just felt like going for a ride. Off we go.

The road to Mole was indeed rough going. It is a pretty remote dirt road with a few villages scattered around. Maybe about an hour and a half down the road, for some unknown reason I decide to stick my head out the window and check the tires. Sure enough, we have a flat. Turns out the driver doesn't have a spare. We all start walking while he limps the van into the nearest village. There is little concern, village people are crafty so they should certainly be able to fix a tire, right? Nope. Plan B, the driver finds a motorcycle in the village and piles on with a villager and off they go back down the road to the junction with the highway where he should be able to fix the tire. The sun is getting low on the horizon by now.

In the meantime, the village kids are on to us. It must have been quite the ordeal for them. They see so many white people driving by on a daily basis, but to have some actually out of the car and physically there, must have been a dream. It was a joy playing with them. It was fascinating to observe the differences in them as well. Supposedly there were three separate tribes living in the village. The children had different markings on their faces identifying their tribe. Some had painted purple dots, black tattooed around their eyes, and others had scars cut into different patterns. There was very little interaction with the adults of the village. The village itself was the idyllic African village; mud and grass huts, no electricity, and goats and chickens running around.

Night comes and no sign of our driver. Concern starts setting in. Eventually we see a single headlight bumping down the road and sure enough it is the motorcycle. No driver, no fixed tire. Turns out the driver decided go back to Tamale and would return sometime the next day. Suddenly we are faced with sleeping in the bush. We have little food and water, and the village certainly doesn't have a provisions store. The small boy, Jason, that jumped in with us back in Tamale springs into action and hunts down the village chief and gets permission for us to sleep in the village. The chief cleaned out a small room that would fit 6 of us while the rest would have to sleep outside. A women brought us some dinner which we happily accepted. I can't tell you exactly what it was but it filled the void. So we settled in for the night. I slept outside the hut under an amazing starry night. Throughout the night I woke to find a goat standing over me, watching, maybe protecting, I don't know what it's intentions were. My wake-up call was the release of the chickens from the coop who found my head a nice place to stand. The mosquitoes were happy too. They had an all you can eat feast despite wrapping myself in my mosquito net. So much of a feast that they couldn't stop and burst leaving the net dotted with blood splotches. But I was alive, I didn't get eaten buy some fierce African predator. The same woman brought us breakfast (again, I don't know what it was) as we sat by the road waiting for a ride. Eventually our driver appeared in the back of a truck with a shiny new tire. Problem solved. The bumpy journey continues...

Even though the entire experience doesn't sound too appealing, it was absolutely amazing. The kindness of the villagers was overwhelming and it was a wonderful opportunity to experience traditional African village life. I found it very refreshing to see people happily living off the grid with very few material possessions. It is particularily amazing, especially after thinking of life back home, that people still live in this manner. It was such a blessing to get that flat tire. Not quite a five-star hotel

In good company

No caption neededOur driver and tire returns

So what is it that makes for a good adventure? I have certainly had some adventures both at home and abroad but the ones that stick out the most are the ones when the unexpected happened. And that is exactly what happened over the last week as I traveled the country. As you can tell by the title there is going to be more than one part to this story, there is too much to cover in a single sitting, so I will spoil you over the course of the week. Where to start...

I took the week off to explore some of the Northern Region of Ghana. I had read in the guide book about a ferry that runs up the Volta River/Reservoir. The boat runs up the river once a week to bring yams down from the upper reaches of the river. The information I was getting was a little vague, as that is the nature of this boat, and accounts I have heard from others described the ride as being quite miserable. But that is all relative, miserable to one may be a joy to another. So I arrived at the boat excited to get on the water and begin this leg of the journey. Much to my surprise there were several other foreigners taking advantage of this cheap transport to the North which was a bit reassuring. Very much in line with the Ghanaian norm, the boat left late. Off to a good start. The sleeping arrangements on the boat were basic, actually nonexistent. There was a dining room, where the options were to sleep on the tables, wooden benches, or floor. It was pretty cramped in there so I decided to sleep on a bench on the upper deck. It wasn't the most comfortable wooden bench in the world but it worked and I did manage to catch a couple of hours of sleep. We were scheduled to arrive in the first port sometime late the next morning and the final destination later in the evening. But the first port didn't appear until later in the afternoon, several hours late. Turns out the boat lost an engine early on and was now just limping around, quite slowly. That was OK though, I was ready for another night on the boat and the scenery was great. The ferry started near the Ghana highlands and as it progressed North the land flattened and started to give way to savanna. It was nice to laze around on the boat, watch the villages go by, and go on deck and observe the activity as the boat made numerous stops.

Night came again and rumor had it that we would arrive in Yeji (the final stop) sometime around 2:00 in the morning. Just wonderful! I would have preferred the boat slowed down so that I could spend the entire night on the boat instead of getting off in the middle of the night in a strange place. But that was out of my hands. At this point most of the foreigners were mildly concerned about our impending fate and we banded together and schemed. What to do when we arrive? Sure enough the boat arrived around 1:30 and we were booted off. So the rest of the night was spent sitting up, trying to sleep on another bench at the Yeji port. Again, I managed a couple hours of sleep.

The kind-of reliable Yepei Queen

Gathering more villagers and stuffThe next morning it was time to catch a canoe ride back across the Volta to catch transport on to the next destination. As planned, the canoe came cruising in early in morning. Turns out though that it was market day on the other side, so there were a lot of villagers with a lot of stuff needing to get across. We managed to get on the boat, which was a relief because it appeared that there was more people and stuff trying to get across than there was room in the boat. Or was there? The boat kept filling up. More and more people and more and more huge sacks getting piled high. It was amazing how cramped and uncomfortable the boat was getting. Finally the boat departed for the hour long ride. The first red flag that things were sketchy came as the boatmen began rapidly bailing water. I began to inspect the boat and sure enough it is leaking. It was just like the cartoons. There were holes with water spraying in and villagers trying to plug those holes with their fingers, with little effect. The water seemed to creep closer and closer to the edge of the boat and I was certain we were going swimming. I heard a Ghanaian behind me very upset that the boatmen had disregarded our lives. Not too reassuring. Miraculously though the boat made it. What a relief, once again. So after two cramped and dusty tro-tro rides we successfully made it to the town of Tamale. From Tamale a new adventure begins, but I am going to have to save that for next time.

The canoe continues to fill upPatiently waiting to further overload the canoe

Hello Everyone!

I can't believe that I have been in Ghana for nearly two months, it has certainly flown by. My projects are beginning to wind down. I thought I would give you all an update on where the projects are currently at...

Of course there is the fishing village project in the village of Ahwiado. This project moved along nicely for awhile but it has really come to a screeching halt. After our initial visit we worked to develop an itinerary and a script of sorts for our guide Robert. After several visits with Robert we were able to get a lot of interesting stories and facts about the village. The tour is essentially ready for a trial run but I am doubtful whether or not that will happen while I am still here. The guide has been out of town a lot lately and after heavy rains that flooded many of the low-lying villages around here, I imagine that Ahwiado suffered some damage as well. So factors out of my hands have prevented this project from being completed.

Another project involved redesigning a class developed by the World Bank. This class covered the creation of business plans, financial statements, and the loan process. Its primary aim is to get the women's businesses more organized and help them get a loan so that they can expand their business. After some research around local banks and government organizations, credit here is not cheap. A bank rate on a small business loan was upwards of 35%! However, there is a couple of government initiatives that offer loans from 10% - 20% which is a little bit more attainable for the women. We went through the World Bank material and recreated the class so that it would be more relevant to the women of Global Mamas. We ran a trial run with two of the organizations most organized and business savvy women. The class went relatively well and the women seemed to learn a lot that they will actually apply in their businesses, however it still needs some tweaking. So now the format of the class is getting revamped and additional material being added in. Unfortunately, I will not have enough time to see another class through but some new volunteers will be arriving soon to pick up where we left off so I least we will be able to pass the torch on.

Then there is One Stone. This has certainly been my pet project and the one I have probably enjoyed the most. Since it is my pet project there has been a lot of ups and downs. Besides doing some general business consulting of their operations, I have nearly become a business partner. I have spent a lot of time marketing their drums and trying to make contacts for Sam. After an initial mass email to drumming orgs, universities, and percussion retailers we managed to make one valuable contact which looked like it could be fruitful. But after a couple weeks of correspondence now it is looking like a business relationship with One Stone might not blossom. It is really too bad, but given the nature of trying to conduct business on the other side of the world, it really doesn't come as a shocking blow. Sam and his Rasta faith has been refreshing though, everyday is a new day, so we will see what it brings. At the moment I am attempting to sell some of his furniture on EBay. This is all through my account because Sam, being from Ghana, is not recognized by PayPal. There is too much fraud that occurs in this region of the world so it is nearly impossible for him to get approved for anything like that. It is a huge hurdle. Another hurdle is shipping. It is not easy getting a hand-carved, several hundred pound bed frame from Africa to the US. The charges are astronomical for a single item, but becomes much more reasonable if an entire container is filled up. So the EBay thing is a bit of a challenge. The items that will be showing up on there soon have a hefty price tag reflecting the shipping charges. But we are hopeful the right the person will come along. But if not, tomorrow is a new day.

I am off all next week to travel the country. Should be a good little adventure taking me up the Volta on a yam barge, through the drier north, and eventually to a national park complete with the common African wildlife. There should be some good stories, I am looking forward to sharing it with you.

This weekend I took a little voyage to Ghana's second largest city and the city of the great Ashanti kings, Kumasi. The main draw to the city is its large open air market, supposedly the largest in all of West Africa. Over the course of my travels I have certainly fallen in love with the chaotic, fragrant, and thrilling open air markets. The Kumasi market (called Kenjetia), without a doubt, is the most superb market I have witnessed yet. This place has its own pulse. I would compare the encounter to the deep end of the swimming pool when you are a little kid. It is something that entices you but at first you are a bit intimidated. You stand on the edge looking in, wondering if it is safe to jump in. You finally get the nerve and jump in. You quickly paddle back the edge and crawl out. You are thrilled that you just did that and have the urge to do it again. This time you jump in and swim around a little bit before going back to the edge. It is so great. You finally decide it is time to swim across the pool. You jump in again and swim across the pool and as you crawl back out you are so pleased of what you just accomplished. That is the Kenjetia market. Of course, the water is the market, crawling with people, and the edge is the street that offers a little bit of refuge from the chaos of the market. The market was intimidating at first, but once I got into it, it was a feast for the eyes. There are people from all over West Africa, selling all sorts of stuff, from clothes, to spices, to meat, fish, shoes, to juju and medicinal tribal goods. There is a lot of stuff for sale, and a lot of it I had no idea what it is used for. It is certainly not a tourist market, there were no carved elephants or decorative drums. It was quite the experience.

Besides going to the market, I headed to a nearby lake that was supposedly created by a meteor impact. The main draw to the lake for me was to take a hike along the banks and stroll through semi-remote villages. It was wonderful walking and the villages were pleasant. The people hardly took notice of me, which is how I prefer it. Of course the kids wanted their photos taken or a pen, but for the most part the villagers continued about their business. Another great experience, in totally an opposite way than the market.

Standing on the edge looking in

Juju and medicine

Will work for crayonsFishing for something

Yesterday I got the opportunity to attend the biggest festival of the year in Elmina. People flooded the streets and the banks of the lagoon to take part in and witness the Bakatue festival. This festival starts on the first Tuesday of July, will run through the week and wrap up on Saturday. I heard varying purposes for the festival, from being a celebration from colonial dependence (despite Ghana's independence day is in March) to being a celebration to ring in the new fishing season. I figure it is probably a combination of many things. Nonetheless a fun festival to witness.

Sam (from One Stone) escorted me around the town and made sure I saw all of the appropriate sites. Most people dress up for the festival and me included. Judith sewed up a quite colorful traditional African shirt for me to where around. It was odd though, most of the Africans seemed to dress up more in Western clothes while me, a white man, was dressed up in African clothing! The festival was supposed to be an all day event, but unfortunately due to heavy rains in the morning it didn't kick off til the afternoon. A parade, consisting of several area chiefs, started from the Elmina chief's palace. They slowly marched through the streets carrying the chiefs while drumming and dancing. The parade ended at the fishing lagoon where all sorts of boating spectacles took place. There were several fishing boats in the water performing various stunts. To me, it looked like they were just goofing around. They would rock these big boats from side to side trying to get as far over as possible without flipping the boats. With each rock of the boat people would go flying off into the water. Additionally there were other boats, each sponsored by a company, with several women just singing and dancing on board. In between these acts there would be boat races where two boats would line up, each with about 10 people in them, and they would paddle their boat down the lagoon. There was so much going on and never a dull moment. It was quite amazing how many people were lining the shores and cheering the various boats. For a Montana boy who sure does enjoy the wide open spaces, it was actually a joy to join the crowds, rub shoulders with the locals, and take part in a fascinating festival.The chief of ElminaA poor swimmer who forgot it was festival dayCrowded banks of the lagoon

At this point I have been in Ghana for over one month, how time flies! It has been wonderful to stay put in one place for an entire month and have the opportunity to fully adjust to my surroundings. Particularly, it has been a joy getting to know the neighbors and chatting with them nearly every day.

So first the house. The house isn't actually in the town of Cape Coast and is nearer the smaller town of Elmina. Elmina is about a 10 minute walk down the street whereas Cape Coast is about a 20 minute taxi ride. Elmina is a fascinating little village with several large old churches and an old slave castle. Maybe that will be another posting. Rumor has it that the old, concrete house was a brothel at one point. However, I try to avoid thinking about this as I come home for the evening. We are lucky enough to have two locals living with us. Ellen, actually lives in the house and takes care of stuff during the day. She will do the dishes, clean, and even do our laundry for a small fee. We share the kitchen so it is often interesting to smell and see what African cuisine she is cooking up. Appiah is our nightwatchman. He is older and has a family of his own in Elmina. Despite this he tends to hang out at the house a lot during the day as well. He has a small shack in the backyard where he lives and I believe he sleeps on the porch during the night. He has a small plot of corn he farms in the yard and maintains the coconut and banana trees. Additionally, we have several chickens that run around the yard, however I am still unclear of their purpose, they don't lay eggs! (that or Appiah is eating them all).

The neighborhood itself is pretty quiet, with the exception of the Silver Cup in front of the house. This seems to be a pretty popular local hangout where there is alcohol, food, and a fella who grills fish along the road. The music is blaring all evening and it is hit or miss whether it is pleasing music or not. Although, last night we were spoiled with endless Bob Marley. Across the street is the Elmina Beach Resort (should be "Beach"), a resort that caters to the wealthier. The next couple of weeks are going to busy around there, I understand that Obama's crew is starting to pour in there. And of course, there is Eli, who lives down the street and cooks us dinner every night. She is an amazing cook who can cook up anything perfectly from grilled cheese to mac and cheese, to local dishes like fufu and red red. There are so many others that make the hood the hood, like the banana girl and of course One Stone, but I have to stop somewhere.

The rainy season seems to be in full swing here, it seems like nearly forever since I have seen the sun. The good thing is that it has cooled off some, I managed to survive an entire night without the fan on! I hope everyone is doing well. Have a wonderful 4th of July!

Our simple, not drafty enough house

Our nearby slice of ocean front heaven (I am not being entirely sarcastic, it is interesting)The all too rare sunset

Weekend football match in Elmina

This weekend finally brought about the opportunity for me to get out and do what I love to do, explore. A small group of us broke out of our sheltered lives here in Cape Coast and headed to the Volta Region. The Volta is claimed to be the largest man made lake on earth and lies in Ghana’s mountainous region (mountainous being about 3,000 feet at the highest). However, despite the fact that I have turned into a mountain snob (thanks alot Nepal!), I found these small Ghanaian mountains to be very impressive and beautiful. They were much more rugged than I was expecting, thickly forested down low with open green pastures around the tops. Our journey took us to the highest waterfall in the country, Wli Falls (pronounced Vlee). We decided to take a hike up to the upper part of the falls, which turned into a pretty grueling and sweaty hike due to the steep terrain and humidity. Ghana apparently doesn’t incorporate switchbacks into their trails like we are spoiled with back home. But it was well worth the hike, not only for the falls but also for the various strange insects and the superb views of the valleys and villages below. The highlight of the entire falls though was at the lower section where we were able to swim out underneath the falling water. What an amazing feeling to have water crashing down on you from 150 feet above, so much power and intensity.

Besides the natural environment that the falls and the mountains provided, another wonderful part of the region is the people. We spent the night in small village near the falls, also called Wli. I found a lot of joy in just strolling around the simple village and interacting with the young kids and other villagers. What was most appealing about these people was their warmth. Unlike Cape Coast, where a common greeting to a white person is to yell “obruni“(white man), everyone in the village would say “welcome”. And it truly felt sincere which made it that much more enjoyable to walk around.

So from Wli we headed over to Volta Lake itself for a night and stayed at what I thought was a pretty swanky hotel right on the lake. I say swanky because my hotel room budget is generally between $2 and 6$. But a room here was $30, but fortunately I only had to pay $15 since I shared a room with Paul. But the place did have wonderful swimming in the lake and a rope swing, so that eased my expensive room tension.

Before I finish this off, there was one more African moment that was pretty interesting. During the tro-tro ride to the region we made a pit stop in a village. As the van pulled in to park it was ambushed by probably 25 women all selling something different from the tops of their heads. They literally slammed into the van with their bodies and rocked it. They were selling everything from bread, yams, eggs, crawfish, smoked fish, and a lot of unidentifiable food products. It is common for Ghanaians to carry stuff atop their heads and is downright amazing how they are able to balance it all in often crowded situations. But these women ran to the vehicle in a large compact mass, were able to keep all of their goods balanced on their heads, were able to grab what was needed from their head, and receive payment, without dropping anything to the ground. It was a very impressive sight. So at the very least, this little weekend getaway opened my eyes to what the rest of Ghana has to offer. I have certainly been inflicted with some wanderlust so I am looking forward to getting out and experiencing more of the country.

Fishing the Volta

The local Wli characters"Really? It's safe to go in there?"Wli village and the surrounding mountains

Continuing with a glimpse into the projects that I am working on, I will introduce you to One Stone. One Stone, owned by Sam and his wife Judith, is a wonderful handicraft shop. They sell a wide variety of goods from jewelry, to wooden masks, clothing, and their main items, carved furniture and Djembe drums. Sam creates wonderful carved furniture, from beds to coffee tables to chairs. From what I understand, the furniture is constructed of mahogany and he carves wonderful African scenes. In addition to the furniture, he also carves drums. The drum bodies themselves he buys from a supplier but he carves the design and hands the building of the drum to his "brother" Lamin. Of course, they are not the only ones producing these drums (or any of their products for that matter), they do have a workshop in Accra where he has employees turning out drums as well. My time spent with the entire One Stone family has been great. More times than not, work around there turns into a round of drumming. Lamin is a wonderful drummer and he has certainly been showing me a thing or two. Sam (aka RastaSam) is a great guy to work with and is never lacking a good Bob Marley quote. Judith essentially holds the group together and has been touted as the best saleswomen on earth. She is also responsible for giving me my first taste of goat. I will just say that I will not be replacing elk with goat in my diet anytime soon. There is also young Marcus Garvey, their son, running around terrorizing the shop. Oh yeah, can't forget about their dog George Bush. So that is the crew that ensures there is never a dull moment when working on this project.

My role there has essentially been consulting the business and finding ways to bring them more business. Unfortunately, they do not have the best location. There are a couple of nice "beach" resorts nearby but the people visiting places like these do not get out and explore their surroundings. Many of the tourists pass in a car and never take the time to stop and take a look around. So we are looking to increase their sales through the internet and marketing to specific drumming groups and organizations. Initially we are concentrating on moving more drums but will eventually try to sell more of his furniture. It is great to be working with them because they are thrilled to have the help and are passionate about their business. So if you are in the market for a new bed or table and chairs, I know a great place to start looking!

Sam's fine furniture and Djembe drums

Drums built and ready to be shaved and tuned

Marcus ensuring that I do not lose my place while reading the sign

Smiley Lamin and the shop