The faces of Lusese...

I snapped off these before my camera was stolen. The first two are the new pup, Mulotu and the mound of puppies are the ones born in my shower area. The rest of the photos are of kids in the village.

We interrupt this regularly scheduled run to bring you the largest living land animal…

I was about a mile in to my Friday afternoon run when I turned my head to discover an ample-sized rear end in the trees. The impressive backside belonged to the equally impressive elephant munching on leaves. I stopped dead and scanned the bush. There were many elephant. I slowly backed up a bit and sat to watch and listen. After a few moments, I heard one make what best can be described as a growling noise, which I decided was my cue to head back to the village. However, I informed Ashley, my site mate, of my interesting find. We walked back up the road and enjoyed about an hour of close-up elephant viewing. The grand finale came when the elephant emerged from the woods to cross the road on their way to the river. There were well over 40 elephant. It was relatively quiet besides the occasional trumpet or rustling of the trees. For such a massive animal, some of which where the length of the road they crossed, they made little noise. It was nearly impossible to hear them lumber through the bush and equally as impossible to see in the trees.

Since the massive herd sighting, I have seen and heard elephant within earshot of my hut as well as several sightings of the large herd that makes its daily trek through my village on its way to water. I will often step out at night to take a pee and hear the sound of the elephant hitting the trees so coconuts will fall for them to eat. I have noticed plenty of elephant dung on my runs. Needless to say, I have adjusted my run to protect myself from any unpleasant elephant encounter, but I recognize that no matter the time of day I have a fair chance of coming across the largest living land animal on the planet. I move on with life with a sense of excitement tempered with caution.

It’s another “this is why I am here” moments:
I am days away from escorting two of my learners to Windhoek so that they could attend this year’s Diversity Tour. The rewards of teaching come in moments such as these. Witnessing two young kids step outside their comfort zone and expand their circle of understanding about the world. This will be the first time either will spend time with anyone who is of another tribe or ethnic group, the first time they see a movie in a movie theater, the first time they see Etosha National Park, the first time they have ever left the region in which they live to explore their amazing country. It’s bound to make a difference. Thank you Warren and Chris for helping to make that experience possible for them.

A final thought as I surpass nine months in Africa..
The past two months have been the most difficult stretch of my service so far. The list of things not working right is alarming. Here is the fast food, microwavable, high-speed, fast lane version:

• I feel a bit disconnected from my African community and my American one. It has lead to a tremendous sense of loneliness.
• My headphones died.
• I had no candles for two months. I used my cell phone for light.
• I had either lentils and rice or oatmeal for nearly every meal for two months.
• I lost my favorite hat.
• My camera was stolen.
• A dog gave birth to eight puppies in my shower area.
• I have not had the amount of Internet access I have grown accustomed to. I realize this is a ridiculous complaint, but I am not ashamed. Internet keeps me connected with all the people I love.

Despite my list, I am doing just fine. I still feel blessed to have this opportunity. And I would not change a moment of it for all the free Internet in the world.

Happy July 4th, America...you dog-loving, trouser-wearing, tv-watching runners.

As a tribute to American Independence, I required my students to answer the following writing prompt: What do you think its like to live in America? Here are some of the more memorable responses:

• They like too much dog.
• They have long hairs.
• In America, you cannot find a person wearing a skirt.
• American people do not know how to steal.
• Elephants like to live in America.
• People from America all have white skin.
• People from America always wear jeans.
• They love wearing trousers.
• They don’t want to see someone who is crying.
• They are having a tattoo.
• I think they are quite good because they respect blacks.
• I think in America there are many criminals like 50 cent.
• Dogs like to live there.
• American people like eating food and watching TV.
• They like running to train the self.
• Americans are like dogs.
• Americans cannot build houses with grass.
• They cannot drink beer like Africans.

Things I have said to myself or someone else that I never imagined I would say:

• There is a dead ant in my loofah.
• I hope Kate Moss does not have puppies in my shower.
• I am just going to flick these ants out of my bowl and then it will be clean enough to eat out of.
• I love Facebook.
• This Paris Hilton song is really good.
• The water is much less brown this week.
• I am craving a salad.
• My house is filling with water.
• It’s too quiet.
• My shampoo is dirty.
• I can’t wait to ride in a car for 15 hours so I can print.
• I am going to wear this outfit all week.
• Never mind the stains, it smells clean therefore it is clean.
• I am not going to care about the dozen flies on my body right now.
• Today’s lesson is on how to say the Lords Prayer in English.
• Let’s bow our heads and pray.
• I dropped my soap in the dirt, picked it up and finished bathing.
• I am sorry someone stole your chicken.
• Can I go to the witchdoctor?
• He has over 100 ticks.
• Did you just take that worm out of his tail?
• If I leave this pot in the refrigerator I won’t need to wash it for weeks.
• Yeah, orange matches everything.
• Why are you wearing a ski glove on one hand…in Africa?
• This bike has no brakes and I can’t change gears, but I love this ride.
• Catching rain in a bucket is really cool.
• Keys? What are keys? I kick my door open.

A lesson about pants and other exciting additions...

A few Saturdays ago I was rearranging my hut because, well, there is little to do with my life on the weekends. I was rigging up a new shelf when I had a feeling someone was watching me. It’s a common occurrence when you are one of two white women in a village. I turned to see a learner at my door. He was holding a puppy. He held out the fuzz ball for me to take and said he no longer wanted me to be sad about Moe. I took the little one in my arms and he was warm and needy and letting out those adorable little puppy moans and groans. As much as I never wanted to take in another village mutt, I could not help but accept. The puppy smell alone won me over. Not to mention, it was such a kind gesture from one of my students. So, I am once again the owner of an African dog. That responsibility is a slippery slope but I am just going to enjoy the small one as long as we are together. The following Monday, I had my grade 7 learners pick a name. The list was as follows: Billy, Sky, Mulotu (beautiful), Kununu (feces…because he poops so much), and Lifalsi (earth). The hands-down champion was Mulotu. So, my African family loses a member but gains another. Welcome Mulotu!

A humorous language lesson occurred one night when I mentioned to a learner that he should put pants on because it was so cold. He was wearing shorts. He gazed at me with more confusion than normal. I enquired. A 15-minute discussion in three different languages ensued among the kids in the room. It was chaotic but ended in roaring laughter. It turns out when one speaks of pants here one is speaking of underwear. I am still giggling about this blunder and slightly embarrassed. Nobody I associate with in my village has been exempt from information about my pants. I have made endless observations in the last few months about my pants. Want to know what I have been sharing with my new Namibian friends. Check this out: “The Peace Corps told me not to wear pants in my village.” “I like to wear pants.” “I have chalk all over my pants.” “It’s so cold, I am going to put pants on.” “I wish I had pants on today.” “My favorite pants are stained.” “I need to wash my pants.” It was the most hilarious moment of my time here when the grade 7 opened my eyes to what pants really are. Lesson learned. No more pants talk. Now it’s all about trousers, which is the appropriate word.

I have hit a stride and feel more a part of life in Africa rather than an American in Africa. Does not make me miss people any less, but it has enriched my time here. Thanks for all the love via packages, emails or Facebook messages. All the best. Much love.

Picture Post of Moe and the Library...

Here is a tribute to Moe. The other dog is Kate Moss, his mom.











Here is the morphing library...










A daily occurance at work...

Cheers Moe.

Moe passed away yesterday. For those who don’t know, he is my lovable village mutt that I adopted the moment I got here in January. I came home on a Friday from a workshop to find he was struggling to walk. By Saturday evening he was not walking at all and spent the next five days in the same spot on the floor of my hut. We are uncertain about the cause of death, but I did all I could to make his final days as comfortable as possible. It was certainly a sad moment in my life. I will miss his energy and selfless love.

My Nano (which happens to be the greatest running partner a gal could ask for) got covered in Coke by accident. RIP running partner. No More Nano.

The learners (students are called learners here) have such unique personalities, which are slowly emerging from the thick fog that characterized the language divide the first term. I am working with a few kids who want to apply to attend a weeklong trip organized by Peace Corps Volunteers for 40 Namibian youth. It’s called the Diversity Tour. As I watch them work on their projects I can’t help but notice their quirks. One learner’s finger is frequently in his nose and one of his pant legs is frequently in his sock, but he maintains the most brilliant smile in recorded history. He hikes his pants to his chin and tucks his shirt to his toes and cinches his belt snug around his tiny frame. Every button on his shirt is buttoned and his collar is up. It’s village fashion at its finest. When he speaks in English he gets so embarrassed he will cover his mouth. I let him type his letter for the application on my computer. He is a fast learner, although in fifteen minutes he managed to type two sentences. His focus and determination were fascinating. Each time I would share a computer trick with him (like how to save a document in Word) he would gasp and his eyes would shine brightly. This reaction made my day perhaps my whole year. One of the many struggles facing this life I chose is feeling like I am actually doing something for someone. The majority of my time here is spent stumbling around trying to act normal when I feel so out of place, so lost, so useless. In this one moment, my months of uselessness ceased to matter. I felt needed.

In the same day, I was visited by three extremely adorable first graders: Kahimbi, Namwi and Twala. I gave them a pile of markers sent by those of you in America and they created some fine art that is now adorning my walls. They are little sponges. They mimic everything I say and pick up on English words quickly. Now they will see me across the village and start yelling my name over and over.

In my grade eight and nine classes I asked them to share what they did over their holiday break. However, since some still struggle with forming the correct English words I told my grade eight learners they could talk or even sing about anything. This led to an impromptu hip-hop jam from a couple of the boys in the class. It was amazing. They love Tupac…may he rest in peace.

Walking out of my wash area one afternoon, I noticed I had a tiny visitor. His name is Baepi (pronounced vai-p) and he is the younger brother of the nose-picker from above. He said, “Tina, I love you,” and quickly turned and ran away screaming in laughter.

I hope everyone is enjoying the start of the summer. I am doing well, despite Moe’s absence from my life. There will be a photo update in another week or so.

Much love.

Six Months on the African Continent

The Trip To Botswana...

We got a ride out of our village after a four hour wait. The ride was in the back of a closed bakkie (term for a truck). We were not the only thing in the back of the truck. There was a multitude of dead fish. It’s common to have these smelly passengers because of our site’s proximity to the water. The odor was oppressive. Luckily the ride to the Botswana border was short.The only impovement made for our ride in to the town of Kasane was the smell. I was in the back of a closed bakkie where I placed my backpack on top of a dead cow and then sat on top of my backpack the whole ride.

Below is a picture of elephant dung, which you can burn as a mosquito repellent. It's African Citronella!


This is the entrance to the Chobe National Park, which is all 4WD, dirt roads.


We met up with four other PCVs on Sunday and did a boat drive in Chobe National Park, which is home to the highest concentration of elephant in the world. We saw plenty of elephant, crocodiles, baboons and hippos.









We camped right by the Chobe River and heard hippos each night. We were safe thanks to the electric fence.

Self-portrait of me at sunrise in Kasane...


Our campsite at sunrise...


After a few days we traveled to Maun on a dilapidated bus that drove over an even more dilapidated road. Once in Maun, we spent a few nights with a Botswana PCV making and eating delicious food like a Greek salad with feta cheese. We also ate at amazing restaurants. If you are ever in Maun Botswana you have to eat the cheese toast at Hillary’s.

Here is the Botswana crew eating...again.


This was on the wall at a restaurant in Maun. I screamed. It was a happy scream.


On May 1, we moved to a backpacking lodge to celebrate our “Six Months in Africa” anniversary. We took a sunset boat trip in the Okavango Delta. Saw more hippos. Saw more crocodiles. Saw more tremendous views.













After a great trip we slowly worked our way back in to Namibia and to our “Reconnect” with the rest of our Peace Corps group. It was held at a conference center in the hills outside of Windhoek. We had incredible views and the air was crisp. It felt like Fall in Colorado. I actually wore a scarf. Wow.

This is from the back seat of a truck on our way to Ghanzi in Botswana...


It was a tight fit in the back...


The view from my room at Reconnect. Windhoek is in the distance.


This is what PCVs do when they are bored...cut hair. Yeah, it's odd.


A final thought…
As I look back at the past six months I am amazed at how much has happened. I am also amazed I am still here. It would be a lie to say I have not considered returning home early. But I am still here…somehow. So, I will see you in 2010. As always, stay tuned for more.