Missing

It has been over a year and a half now since I began my journey of self-discovery.  I have cried and survived and thrived.  I have been tired and inspired.  And I have finally begun to dream of being home again.  I am exhausted so often, that I dream of the things I always took for granted.  I miss the ease of buying food as I please.  I miss being clean (though while I am luckier than most volunteers in the world in that I have running water and a shower, it’s sometimes very hard to convince myself that jumping into a freezing downpour is worth it). 

 

I miss putting time and effort into my physical appearance.  It’s hard to care about cosmetics at 6 in the morning when it’s still dark and I can barely see my face because there’s no lighting in my room.  I miss men with dirty minds keeping their dirty thoughts to themselves.  I miss sitting inside a car, wearing a seatbelt, while traveling.  I miss having a plethora of opportunities to be with my family.  I miss washing machines and clothes that are more than pretend clean.

 

Despite that fact that many of my conversations now center around my dreams of first world wonders, I know that I am and always will be absolutely in love with Namibia.

 

I love the mezmorizing shades and contours of the clouds which meander across the sky.  I love the subtle change of the landscape as precious rain falls, transforming the barren bush land into a lush feeding ground for life-giving herds.  I adore the fact that in Africa we share, regardless of how meager that sharing may be.

 

I love the scree’s and cha-churs of a thousand avians migrating across the mighty expanse of wilderness.  I will never forget the barely perceivable munch of masticating worms as newly green trees slowly return to being bare.  The rays of concentrated light breaking through the clouds, highlighting the beauty of the world, will always warm my heart. My olfactory senses being bombarded by the smell of newly fallen rain and animals and LIFE will always make me smile. 

 

I am awestruck by the sheer expanse of inspiration at every turn of the head.  The unidentifiable shades of an African sunset will always keep me guessing for words no tongue or pen or lens have ever accurately conveyed.  My heart skips a beat at the fiery tips of Thornwood trees as said sunset crashes into the horizon.  I love the rejoicing of voices young and old as the sky turns slate and thunder shakes their bones.  And I love the fact that at many times laughter and smiles are far better forms of communication than nouns and verbs.

 

As my time here begins to speed up, I know that these little things will become so much more important than the comforts of home.  Of course I will love those comforts, but while I may be back in America in less than a year, my heart will always be in Namibia.

Instead

It’s difficult sometimes.  Caring.  If I didn’t care, I’d sleep like a baby.  I’d be able to dream sweet dreams and finish a book every week.  If I didn’t care, I’d be free to explore the world.  I’d be free to relax and enjoy life’s little pleasures.  I’d be at the beach.  I’d buy new clothes and wear them at fancy restaurants.

 

If I didn’t care.

 

Instead, I find myself constantly worrying if I’m doing enough.  My nights are plagued with doubts and fears.  Am I doing the right things?  Am I going to be able to help?  My books are visited intermittently, whenever a minute or two can be spared.  And even then I am distracted, or inspired, and have to drop it.

 

Instead, I travel halfway across the world to stay put.  My explorations are of the imagination instead of the landscape.  I think of the beach as I take sandy steps to school.  Waves of worry crash around me, their thunder deafening.  I sit here, 100 kilometers from purchases and sigh-inducing meals.

 

Instead, I buy sweets for Valentine’s Day, and don’t eat a single one.  My shopping cart overflows with pens and tape and art supplies, stickers, crafts and glue.

 

Instead, I see all of the positive changes.  I see learning and friendship.  I learn about who they are and who I am.

 

Instead, I am living the true dream.  I am changing, growing.  I am happy because I care.

 

Caring is the most stressful, frustrating, hair-pulling, and rewarding emotion.

 

And I rock it like a neon fanny pack!

Listen

All I can see is the black of my eyelids..  I lay in bed, sleep not far away.  Out my open windows I hear the rustle of leaves sweeping the sand.  The soft chatter of my neighbors is unintelligible both from the distance as well as the rolling sounds of an unknown language.  Gates screech and clink, bidding adeu to the day.  In the distance a bird squawks, once again challenging you to identify its species.

An old car complains as its owner attempts to waken it from its slumber.  The jingle of reigns from a donkey carts mingles with the coughing pickup.  Ting, ting, ting.  The rain dances lightly on the tin roof, promising new growth on the morn.  Goats cry to each other, wishing all a good night.  And there it is, the sound of youth, returning from rest, welcoming the new year with eagerness and exhilaration.

I am home.  A singular sigh escapes.  Muscles relax and I drift away to the symphony of home.

Things that Concern Me

*Learners think alcohol abuse will destroy their lungs
*Advice learners give to parents: Parents should beat their kids so they don't do bad things
*How empty the fridge is getting
*That my allergies have finally kicked in
*How my dog has decided to act like a puppy again and jump all over me
*How my dog can't play fetch (waste of a perfectly good tennis ball)
*How many confiscated sticks I have in the corner of my classroom
*How some of those sticks are actually wire or medal rods
*How some of those sticks are teacher's
*How my learners are failing English
*How my learners think that 2 x 2 = 22 (seriously)
*That half my holiday plans consist of preparing for the next school year
*The amount of girls that have dropped out due to pregnancy
*That I'm gaining weight
*My lack of nail polish options
*How my Chaco tan isn't as awesome as I want it to be
*How the new 'eco-friendly' coffee I bought tastes too eco-friendly (read: dirt)
*The fact that I drink the coffee anyways
*How one of my friends is being treated at her school
*The lack of rain and the consequence to farmers in Namibia
*My lack of interest in learning the local language
*The fact that the increasing temperature forces me to keep the windows upon at night, allowing all the kinds of creepy crawlies (spiders, scorpions, snakes, pretty much all animals whose name begins with s-) to enter my room
*That my mosquito net is not thoroughly tucked into my bed and said creepy crawlies will attack me while I am sleeping
*That the failure of my kids finally shows my failure as their teacher
*That the learners aren't stressed over final exams
*How much the learners sleep
*How I've watched all media on my computer and have to start re-watching everything
*That my school is expected to start using an online program to store data (learner info, timetable, conduct forms, etc) yet the Ministry of Education still hasn't gotten us internet
*What's going to happen to my dog while I'm gone for the month
*That I have too much free time to write lists like these

Lots to Update

Hey all,

So I seem to have forgotten to update what's going on in my life.  Not much besides school has happened since my sister visited in May.  During the August holiday I helped the new volunteers for a bit, then relaxed at a lake (yes there are lakes in Namibia!) for a few days.

To bring you up to speed on the goings on at school, I'll provide you with a few random poems I wrote as well as some amazing pictures of amazing kids at our recent cultural festival.

40 Minutes

Good Morning
Morning Miss
Chat Talk Chat
Sleep Draw Hit
Silence Now!
Giggle, Glare
Blah Blah Blah
Rip and Tear
Silence Please
Stare and Sleep
Blah Blah Blah
counting sheep
Where's you pen?
Stolen Miss
And this was when?
cough and shift
I don't care
Blah Blah Blah
learners sing
ring ring ring
sit and sigh
Thank God!  Goodbye!

Frustrations

I tell them when it's due
They tell it back to me
I write it on the board
So all my kids can see

I then repeat the due date
I give them time in class
They tell me yes yes yes
They understand enmass

The date it's due comes round
I ask for finished work
'Aye Miss!  You did not say!"
Frustration starts to lurk

Extensions are then given
So marks can be put in
I tell them seven more times
They nod with happy grins

The time again arrives
When late work must be given
"Aye Miss!  You did not say!"
They played instead, were livin'

A third and final date is said
Loud and clear for all
The time, it comes, they say 'aye'
I have reached my wall

Nor more missus nice girl
No more happy teacher
"In my class and get to work!"
I've become a life skills preacher

And still they look me in the eye
They say it won't be done
"Give me zeros. I don't care.
While we all have some fun."

What to do, oh what to do
A teacher's big ordeal
Force them in to finish work
or fail while my stress heals

But as a teacher, teaching
And trying to do well
I sit and stress and worry
Though success? I cannot tell

Am I helping all my kids?
Am I helping them enough?
This job of mine I always love
Though almost all is tough

I hope and pray they see it
How much I want their success
But getting them to understand
Is the beginning of my test


And some fun pictures from the cultural festival we had last weekend.   Here's a little background.  Every year the Erongo region picks a school to host this festival.  Learners of all ages create something (song, dance, drama) to describe their culture in the form of a competition.  My school was blessed to host it this year.  Early Saturday morning tents went up and kids got dressed in their traditional garbs.  I borrowed a friend's Herero dress and shocked everyone in attendance by wearing it for part of the day.  The kids were sooo excited!  I've never been so respected by them.  Maybe I should wear one everyday!  I wasn't even allowed to carry the camera case!  On the other hand it's incredibly hot and during this summer weather I don't know how people wear it all day, every day!

 

Me and all of my fabulous kids!

 

 

This little one isn't sure whether she likes me or if I frighten her.

 

My housemate and adopted mother in her traditional Nama dress.  I love this woman!!!

 

 

 

 

Reenactment of a traditional Herero wedding

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Boys acting like little men doing their Herero marching

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Items used at a Herero wedding

 

Some of my special learners.

 

My favorite running buddies!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorry I don't have explanations for all of the pictures.  I really only know about my own Herero culture.  They are all still beautiful though!

Ba Ba Ba Ba Ba….I’m Lovin’ It!

Term 2 has begun.  Classes are in full swing, and so am I.  Every time I step into that classroom  I reaffirm my belief that teaching is my destiny.  It doesn’t matter how horrible a day I’m having, or how the learners make me want to pull my hair out.   I still absolutely loooove teaching.  My kids, though misguided and crazy at times, are fantastic!  They are truly good kids. 

 

I think I’ve been too emotional about teaching, though.  I’ll admit, I’ve cried several times in front of the kids.  It’s devastating to see such potential being wasted.  I tell my kids several times a week that they all have the potential to pass school and be successful in life.  And I fully believe it as well.  The problem is that they don’t.  They’ve had so many teachers that don’t show them respect, that I felt that showing them that I cared so much about them that I’d cry about it would help them see they were worth it (and no, I wasn’t faking the tears to manipulate them, they came naturally).

 

But maybe I’ve been too emotional with them and not parent-y enough.  Every Friday night I show a movie.  I use this as a way to give the kids something to do (instead of sneaking around doing naughty teenager-y things) and also as a fundraiser for the library.  My prefects and I decide how to use the money to help the library be a relevant and beautiful place for them.  Previously I bought some books when I was in the capital, but due to an amazing donation from a school my mother works at, reading books will soon not be a problem!  But that story is for a whole different update.  Stay tuned for the arrival of 600 books!!!!! 

 

Back to the Friday night movie.  One of my prefects, while we were talking about various things, asked if I would listen to some advice of his.  Of course I would.  I would be a hypocrite if I asked them to listen to my advice without listening to theirs as well.   He told me that I cried too much, and that I needed to be more firm with the kids.  I also gave too much trust.  I replied that I gave my trust on purpose because I wanted these kids, many of whom have never had the trust of an adult, to see that someone believed them to be good people.  His response was that they talked about me in the hostel, and about how I would leave all my things out for them to take.   And it’s true.  Several of my things have gone missing.  It makes me sad, but then again, I should have also tried not to assume these teenagers were perfect. 

 

So, from now on, I am going to be the tough, yet caring, teacher, who shows the kids that she loves them by being firm and strict.  No more tears from me!  And, all my supplies will stay locked away so as not to taunt my kids into taking them.  Though I still believe it’s only a select few that would steal from me.

 

I don’t care how many times I need to reevaluate my teaching methodologies, though.  I know that it will take me years, no, decades, to perfect it.  I will change how I approach kids both as people and learners.  I know that I will cry sometimes (now in the safety of my home, not the classroom) because of things that happen at school.  But I also know that I will love every second I am with those kids.   Nothing will every change my mind about how I feel about teaching. 

 

If I walk away with only learning one thing during my Peace Corps service, it’s this:  I am a teacher.  It is not my career, it is who I am.  And every day I teach is a day that I love my life.

 

So thanks, Mom, for suggesting that while I was lost in college.  Best advice I’ve ever received.

Here are some photos of me with my kids.  God I love them!!!!

 

Me and my boys!

 

 

Trying to look tough but failing miserably!!! I'm more confused than anything.

 

 

 

Gotta do the Namibian pose with my girls!

 

Another thing I love is my housemate.  She is 63 years old, and a (almost) retired Namibian teacher.  She has been teaching for over 30 years, and has been a principal as well.  Now she's at my school, helping out with our life skills classes and counseling.  I am so thankful to live with her.  She is a godsend.  Without her I am sure I would have been lost during my first few months in the country. 

 

Every evening we sit down and just talk.  Most of it is teacher talk.  You know the kind, where all teachers ever seem to talk about is school, what happened that day, and how to be better.   She has so much knowledge and patience.  Had she been anyone else, she probably would have been fed up with me and my constant questions.  But no, she is amazing!  We can talk about anything.  There is nothing too taboo to talk with her about.  And she's not afraid to tell me when I'm doing something wrong.  I wish more people would do that!  It'd help me adjust so much faster. 

 

I thank every higher being I can think of that I live in the same house as her.  If I could, I'd adopt her!  Or get her to adopt me!  Somehow we'd be stuck together for the rest of our lives!

There's No Place Like Home

The month of May was devoted to travel, like all of my school breaks seem to be these days.  There is no option of staying in the village, because one, I’d be by myself, and two, I’d be stuck for a month.  That doesn’t sound fun or safe! 

 

I left the first instance I could after the kids left.  I spent the week with another volunteer and her visiting family.  Now, this woman is absolutely amazing!  She is in her 60’s, and has dreamed of being in the Peace Corps since she heard it on TV as a child.  Of course, life gets in the way of plans, so she waited until she was retired to join.  Her name is Ruth, and I hope to one day be just like her.  Actually, we are very similar.  They call me Baby Ruth.  I think it’s a huge compliment.  

 

So, when she invited me on her family vacation, I jumped at the chance.  I was worried that I would be intruding a bit, but found myself welcomed warmly.  Her family is just as amazing as she is.  And no wonder, they were raised by her!  We spent the week visiting various places.  Most of the trip seemed to be in the car, which was fine because I was able to get to know her children.  Thankfully the three teenaged grandsons were sitting in the back, so we didn’t have to hear (or smell) them!

 

I am so thankful that they were so open and friendly with me.  I especially enjoyed hanging out with her grandkids.  They were so funny and fun!  I did use some of my time with them as ‘babysitting’.  I knew that sometimes the adults would want some adult time without the bickering or energy of teenagers, so when I noticed that happening I would pull them aside.  It wasn’t a chore at all.  As seen by my resume, I love hanging out with kids!  It’s one reason I became a teacher after all!

 

A week of relaxation followed this, in which I did absolutely nothing!  It was amazing.  I’d sit at a friends house (she was gone for most of it), watch TV or movies on my laptop, and nothing else.  Maybe I would read.  I enjoyed being able to zone out and not be constantly travelling.  I also was able to update my movie collection a bit. 

 

My sister Michelle arrived in Windhoek on May 5^th.  I had informed her that we would be hiking for half of the trip, with the potential of camping as well.  She agreed to this, most likely because she had absolutely no concept of what that really entailed!  Right out of the airport doors we caught our first hike.  It was incredibly easy.  We didn’t even have to flag anyone down.  We were walking down the road by the parking lot when a man pulled over offering us a ride to the city. 

 

(Now, don’t freak out about this.  It happens quite a lot that people will pull over when they see volunteers travelling with heavy bags.  They know that we are hiking and are kind enough to give us rides.)

 

Our driver was very nice.  Very, truly, extremely racist, but very nice.  We even stopped for a drink with him.  When he noticed Michelle was a bit uncomfortable (either because we were having a drink with a stranger, or his racism, or that fact that he was a strange man), he made sure to let us know that he had a girlfriend that he loved.  Welcome to Namibia, Michelle!  We started off with a bang.

 

Let me fast forward the rest of the trip due to the length of this post.  If I keep going on like I have been, this will soon become a novel!  We spent the night in Windhoek, where she was introduced to wild game meat.  (yummy Oryx!).  We hiked to Tsumeb to get our rental car for Etosha.  Once there, we were surprised (pleasantly for me, and horribly for Michelle), that there had been a mix up and they only had a stick shift available.  So, Michelle had a 5 minute lesson on how to drive stick and we were off for 2 days in Etosha. 

 

  We saw pretty much everything except for lions.  That was sad, but partly due to our inability to sit for hours in the middle of the night waiting for them at the watering hole!

 

Within minutes of entering the park, this is what we are greeted with.

 

The entrance to the park from a tower.

 

These antelope get awfully boring after say, about 1000 of them!  But they are still gorgeous.

 

Gotta love baby season!

Elephants are still definitely my favorite animals.  Ever!

 

My sister Michelle and I after a day of driving through the park.  I was so happy to be able to share this experience with her!

 

More happy elephants at the water hole.  This is the same hole we could watch at night (had we not been sleeping)

 

We drove back, dropped of our car, and hiked to Rundu.  The back of a closed baki (truck) and lori (big rig) later we were there.  The next morning we went to get a hike to Katima.  A few hours later, frustrated and close to tears (in Michelle’s case), we finally got a combie ride.  We arrived in Katima, and had an amazing evening relaxing.

 

After getting our visas, we went to the nearest town for a bus to Livingstone.  Unfortunately we had no Zambian Qwatchas, so we exchanged with some really shady people.  The bus was also not going to leave for half the day, and we were not willing to walk around the shady town with our things, so we paid for a taxi.  The 200 km drive took us over 3 hours due to the potholes in the road.  By potholes, I mean they would be small lakes if ever filled with water!  The car would swerve from side to side to avoid them.  All this did was made me appreciate the infrastructure of Namibia.  If they’ve done something right, it’s road maintenance.

 

Three days in Livingstone was definitely not enough.  We hang out with other volunteers, went canoeing followed by a game drive and evening cruise.  We danced  and went to see Victoria Falls.  While we were there, Michelle and I signed up for the package deal of extreme sports.  First we zip lined across the gorge of the Zambezi.  Next we bungee jumped (which was freaking awesome by the way!), followed by a giant swing, which we did together.  Ever since then, I’ve decided that I should quit any real job I ever get and become an extreme sports junkie!  It’s addicting.

 

 

 

 

'

 

It takes a village to free a bus from a ditch.

 

 

 

Hanging out with the adorable local kids.  Laughter was the only language we shared.

 

 

The cutest little girl I've ever seen!

 

 

The Zambizi seen from our game drive.  No hippos here, unfortunately.

 

 

 

So many babies!  I love it!  Inside the Victoria Falls Park.

 

Michelle and I on our way down to the bottom of the falls.

 

We didn't get a picture of us bungee jumping, so I had to make do with this one (artist rendering courtesy of me!)

 

 

A tiny portion of the falls.  Unfortunately most of the time it was covered in mist and not camera ready.

 

 

What I like to call the splash zone.  Walk across the bridge and you've taken a shower.

 

We hiked back to Namibia, where we spent the next two nights in a tree house.  Yup, you heard me, a tree house.  We went to this out of the way camp where they have camping and tree houses along the Okavango River.  Our house happened to be at the end, with no one next to us.  We relaxed during this time, falling asleep to the sounds of hippos and elephants.  One night, while walking back from the main area, I swore we were going to be eaten by a hippo.  We could hear them so close to us, but it was so dark we couldn’t see anything!  And, being idiots that we are, we only had my phone as a flashlight.  Thankfully I’m assuming they were still in the water, which was maybe 20 feet from us.

 

The view. Amazing, right?

 

 

 

Sorry it's blurry.  I had to take a night shot.  This was the main hangout area.

 

We then got a hike by another car  After two hours we stopped at back in Rundu.  It was fate that brought us to our next hike, a mother and her daughter, returning from Livingstone as well.  This woman was reluctant to give us a lift, but , most likely out of pity, did.  We soon got to talking and I learned that she did skills training in the field of Agriculture.  We got to another town right before dark (she was very uncomfortable driving at night, as was I in hiking at night), and stopped at a guest house.  They only had one room left, which was a family suite with two rooms.  We shared and continued our journeys separately the next morning.

 

Once back in Windhoek we rented another car for our voyage to Sossusvlei.  We began later than I hoped, and the journey took longer than I had anticipated.  Poor Michelle felt a bit uncomfortable on the windy roads, so we made sure to take the curves slowly.  We also made sure to watch out for animals (thankfully we were alert and slow, because some springbok walked in front of us).  We arrived, searched for our campsite, and set up camp.  Early the next morning we drove to Deadvlei, where we attempted to climb the tallest dune there, Big Daddy.  The wind was strong, the journey was tough, and I was about done with it half way up.  We (or maybe I) decided that we’d had enough so we had fun and ran down it instead.  After some steak and a beer, we went to bed and drove the long journey to Okahandja. 
 

 

 
 

 

The amazing mountains we passed to get to the dunes.

 

Enjoying the view.  Or taking a needed rest after about a quarter of the trek.  Dunes are tiring!!!

 

Michelle being patient with me while I caught my breath.

 

Centering myself after the climb.

 

Michelle was so excited to find a candy bar with the name of her favorite movie on it!

 

Not much happened in Okahandja, and then we drove to my village.  As Michelle drove, I could see the wheels turning in her head about how in God’s name she was going to get back all by herself!  I promised her that I would give her great directions and she wouldn’t get lost.  I don’t think she believed me! 

 

My village was quiet, as there were no learners there yet.  I showed her around, and she was able to see what my real life is like here.  It was pretty slow.  I spent some time preparing for my lessons, and we made some bread.  Then we ate it while watching TV and movies.  Do you see a pattern?  I watch a lot of media here during my free time. 

 

The first day of class was devoted to the kids being able to ask Michelle questions.  I thought it would be great.  I thought they would ask tons of questions.  I thought they’d jump at the chance to ask her anything they wanted.  What did I get?  Silence.  The kids were so boring!  They didn’t want to ask her anything!!!  I was so disappointed.  I didn’t help that our of the 250 kids we have at this school only maybe 80 were there that day, and most of those were the grade 10’s that I don’t have.  So, all in all, those three days we quite boring but she was able to get a real understanding of what life is truly like here at my school.  Early in the morning of the second school day she (with thankfully a girl needing a ride all the way to the city) drove to the airport, and began her 30-something hour journey back home.

 

If I learned anything from my holiday, it’s that I love the comfort of home.  My sister being here reminded me how much I love my family.  It had seemed as if nothing had changed in the 10 months since I had seen her.  We had gone back to the way we were.  Of course, I  have changed much since then, but nothing in a way that would change our relationship.  I was sad when we parted, but also realized, to my relief, that her being here did not make me want to quit and jump on a plane home.  I am still quite happy here, and though I do miss my family, I know that I can and will be successful in Namibia.  She showed me that I can be both a homebody who loves her family and an independent world travelling individual.