The Ramblings of a Morphing PCV

I have had an especially difficult two weeks, as my recent email will attest. A similar event to the one mentioned happened not even 24 hours after the first. Needless to say, I am processing it as best I can and I thank anyone who responded with ideas as to how I could properly deal with the situation. I feel so much support from home and it is invaluable.

Now, on a more positive note:
I can feel it. I am changing. Slowly. I still tango with those what-the-hell-am-doing-here panic attacks, but I also have plenty of I-am-so-glad-I-joined-the-Peace-Corps moments, as well. One in particular was my first visit to church. Those of you who know me well know that church is not something I attend. Ever. However, I respect the faith of others and was asked to join some learners at Seventh Day Adventist services, which are on Saturday. The singing gave me chills. The singing made me cry. I had happy tears falling from my face. Not only do they sing well but there is something about the emotion behind the words that is hard to describe. And they sing loud. I heard it explained in this way: God is far away, so we must reach him somehow. Either way, it reached me. Like I said. I am changing. I have no plans for a conversion, but I do plan to go to the Catholic service on Easter. I figure I need more fits of happy tears. I love my town despite the recent events there. I tried to snap some photos to give you an idea what I see everday. Below is my first attempt at capturing it thanks to Warren and Chris for getting me a digital camera...



















•If you build it…she will shower
The construction of my courtyard and wash area gave me a place to shower and some much needed privacy. More importantly, it confirmed for me the solid foundation of community in my village. The story begins not long after I returned from dealing with my staph infection. I noticed the secondary school learners gathering after school one afternoon and I was curious, and bored, so I eavesdropped. The meeting was lead by one of my fellow colleagues. He reminded the boys from grade 7-10 to each bring one pole the following day (a pole here is simply a small tree trunk). The girls were to bring a certain type of tree branch, which is often used to make a type of rope. I found it odd that this was a homework assignment. How many learners would, in fact, follow through? I giggled thinking of the reaction I would have received from my American students had I ever asked for poles and tree branches. So, the following day kids came to school with the requested items. When I finally asked what it was for I was told the materials where to build my courtyard and wash area. The kids worked together for two afternoons to complete an amazing courtyard and “shower” for me. It was yet another moment since arriving in Namibia that left me feeling humbled and amazed by the people. They work together. They work with a smile on their faces. They work despite the fact there is nothing in it for them, unless you count a clean, freshly bucket-bathed English teacher. I felt uncomfortable as I watched them work because I wanted to repay them for working so hard on something for me. However, it is a built-in feature of small village life. Everyone is taken care of in some way. Everyone is family. Here is a photo montage of the event...


















•The hut is done...inside and out.
I finally have a working fridge and stove to go with a finished courtyard. Here is the inside of the hut...













•In four months, she has had an infected eye, an infected foot and now this!
Ashley and I hiked to the river one Saturday, which is about 6k from our huts. The rainy season is coming to an end, which meant we could linger outdoors for a few hours in the bright, warm sun and endless blue sky. Actually, it is like someone hit the off button because it has not rained a drop in weeks. Anyway, back to the Saturday hike. It was a relatively easy walk and Mo, our adopted village mutt, accompanied us. The river turned out to resemble a marsh area, as you can see for yourself in the pictures. There were handmade canoes dotting the shoreline. We hope to convince someone in our village to take us out on one. Although, I have my reservations since I have heard some frightening stories about crocodile attacks in the area. Speaking of attacks, on the walk back home, I was startled when Ashley yelled out, “Oh my God, there is a snake.” I turned in time to see a baby snake slithering away. I commented on how small it was as I moved in to get a better look. So, let me pause for a moment to explain that I do have a healthy respect for snakes, but I have never lived in a place with a high percentage of really, really, really dangerous ones, so the act of moving towards the snake was habitual behavior. As I got closer, it reared up and showed me its hood. It was a baby cobra: brown with black speckles around the neck area. At that point, I said, “Oh my God, it is a cobra.” I promptly took a few steps back. It was satisfied with my retreat and slithered into the bush. I was pumped. I had just seen a cobra. A cobra. Ashley has always expressed a sincere hatred of snakes. She abhors everything about the reptile, so the experience was less exciting for her. Once we calmed down, Ashley informed me that I stepped right over it and it came an inch from striking me on the back of my leg. Yeah, a baby cobra almost clocked me on the back of the leg. I am not sure what kind of cobra it was, even after extensive Internet research, so I can’t be sure what might have happened had it made a direct hit. However, I am certain it would not have been pleasant. Needless to say, I have a much more direct understanding of just how careful one must be when one lives in the African bush. Lesson learned.







•Talk about a language barrier…
School is hectic. The kids make it worthwhile, though. I know they struggle to understand my English. It is an ongoing problem. Since the start of the year, I have been reading the novel Holes aloud to my 8th and 9th graders and one of the reasons why is so they can get used to my accent. I gave them a listening comprehension quiz a few weeks ago primarily to check if they are beginning to understand my accent. Some of their answers will give you insight on how well they understand my English.

1. What is a homeless shelter?
• a home near a town
• mountains, rocks, trees
• something that you can see or you can touch
• a tree behind a tree
• it is in the shower
• money
• it is a police

2. Describe Stanley’s shower
• Stanley’s shower was to prevent the body
• tall, shoes, bread
• It was cold. There was no loaf.

3. How did Stanley end up with the shoes?
• toilet
• bread, guava juice

4. What crime is Stanley charged with?
• fun
• money
• backets ball
• eating bread
• he walk along with his foot
• someone stole his notebook

5. Who did the shoes belong to?
• Clie who was living is stone (the correct answer? Clyde Livingston)
• the shoes

•Ngoma Bridge to Botswana
We traveled the meager 16k to the Botswana border recently to check the status of the rising water on the Chobe River. I snapped a few photos and saw some water buffalo from a distance. Ashley and I have tentative plans to head over the border real soon to check out Chobe National Park and then head to the Okavango Delta further in Botswana. Stay tuned because the Peace Corps adventure continues…

PIctures from Ngoma...