"Nam Rob" Takeover

So I first met Rob at my PST, he showed up in his dirty Namibian hat and was brutally honest with us, a little too honest for Peace Corps liking, but me and my entire group were glad that somebody was telling us what life in Namibia was actually like. He was pretty much brutally honest all the time. "Nam Rob" had soon become his name because there was a new Rob in country, me. We got along great with constant Rob compliments because Robs are, in fact, awesome. My experience here would not have been the same with out Rob and that is definitely true. He is a great kind of guy and always up for some kind of adventure. He was some one I could confide in and always ready to "learn" me something new. One of the highlights of my time here is when he came to Gobabis, where I live in Namibia, because the water was shut down in his town, we did a Power hour that went terribly wrong, home made pizza, wiffle ball, Pentatonic E scales, and talked a little bit about our how we got to be who we are today. If you know "Nam Rob" you are lucky and it is an honor to take over the name and the blog. I guess I will explain more of who I am next time but for now I am hiking out to Rundu for Thanks and Giving and have to get out early. Until then...

Taking over

So I have been talking with my good friend Rob Narciso and we've decided that I will pass on the "Namibian Rob" blog to him since I'm leaving. We think it would be really cool to have an continuous blog passed from Rob to Rob until there are no more Robs in Peace Corps. He's in Gobabis and from Jersey. Anyhow, this is my last post. Later. Robert Neiberger

A bit old

Cape Town I took Bailey’s Reo Liner down to Cape Town for a few days during the August holiday. It was a pretty miserable ride. The bus was overbooked and I sat next to a fat woman who had three bags with her taking up a lot of my space. Some people sat on the floor so it made stretching out impossible. It got better as people got off but it started out pretty badly. I arrived in Cape Town and checked into Cat and Moose hostel which is located at the far end of a super touristy street. It was a nice place and pretty low-key. I met up with Edward and Quinn and the three of us went to McDonalds. You have no idea how happy that first bite into a McDonald’s burger made me. The following day the three of us went down to the docks and took a boat over to Robben Island, the prison that housed Nelson Mandela and several other political prisoners during apartheid. The tour guide around the island was really good and we apparently had some kind of US statesmen on the tour with us. The tour of the actual prison wasn’t as good. All the tour guides are former inmates of the prison which is cool but the particular person we had wasn’t that good. We went back to Aznac Backpackers which is where Quinn and Edward were staying. After signing up for a wine tour in Stellenbosch the owner gave me a free night. I moved all my stuff over and canceled the rest of my time at Cat and Moose. The owner of Anzac also recommended a place to eat. We went to a Brazilian steakhouse and it was amazing. Early the following day we caught the 6:45am train to Stellenbosch after eating a hearty mega McMuffin at McDonalds. We checked into Stumble Inn backpackers and went on a wine tour with two British people on holiday. They had been traveling Africa for two months and were almost finished. The tour guide was a Namibian Afrikaner living in South Africa. He chain smoked pretty much through the whole tour, he was a bit bitter and jaded, but overall a nice guy. He was very practical in his approach, “it’s just fermented grape juice. Don’t over think it.” I learned several things about wine but I don’t have a sophisticated palette. We went to two wineries in the morning, 9am is a good time to start drinking, had lunch, and then went to two more wineries. We went back to the hostel and had a quick nap. I met a guy named Warren who was traveling because he’s starting a tour company and wanted to get his route down exactly before starting the business. He joined us for dinner at a local burger place and then we all went out for Guiness on tap. It was a pretty fun night. The next day we had more time so we relaxed a bit and then caught a train back to Cape Town. Edward and I hiked Table Mountain and Quinn stayed at the hostel. At Table Mountain Edward stopped to tie his shoe and I went on ahead. I missed the turn to go up the mountain by the easy route. Luckily for me I found the expert route just a few minutes away. The expert route involved some light bouldering at first and then a nearly vertical rock face to climb. I said “screw that”. I’m afraid of heights and not interested in climbing. I went back down and ran into an Afrikaner who told me he got stuck on that same route the day before. He was doing it again but this time he wanted to make it all the way. I just went back down and waited for Edward. Edward didn’t show up and at dark I left. He came back to the hostel about an hour later. He waited for me at the top and I waited for him at the bottom. Quinn, Edward, and I went to a Vietnamese restaurant for dinner. The restaurant had chop sticks. The Vietnamese don’t use chops sticks. The end of the trip had arrived and the following day I headed to the bus station to get on a dirty bus and sit next to a man who was fairly large. Not fat, just a big guy. The seats aren’t even the width of my shoulders so the two of us sitting next to each other was uncomfortable. He spent part of the time leaning on me so he could sleep; 22 hours later I was in Rehoboth and happy to get off that bus. Also it was raining on the last day and the bus leaked. Water was coming in through the air conditioning and windows. It was a pretty bad bus ride. Now on to NaDEET NaDEET stands for Namib Desert Environmental Education Trust. It is located in the middle of nothing. There’s no internet, cell phone service, or running toilets. There are a few bunks, a hall; several pit latrines, and some solar panels for heating water and generating electricity. It was pretty awesome and reminded me a lot of Boy Scout camps. There was a grant from the European Union to send all the grade 7s in Hardap region to NaDEET for a week so each school could learn water conservation and energy conservation. The learners also learned how to cook using solar cookers and solar ovens. I could build a solar oven myself and I might do it before too long. The bread was delicious. We went dune boarding and that was pretty cool. Overall it was a good trip and only one kid got sick.

A walk through the Namibian Healthcare system

So a few weeks back I was hanging out with some friends in Rehoboth for the fourth of July. We were having a BBQ when the door to my flat suddenly stopped working. The handle turned but the inside pieces didn’t move. After about 45 minutes or so I became exceedingly frustrated and punched the window above the door. It was a stupid move. I generally have a good hold on my temper but when you get to the end of my fuse there’s a massive keg of dynamite. Anyhow I cut my hand up pretty bad. I called a colleague and went to the hospital with her and two friends. My friend Martin was supportive and helpful. While my friend Chris made jokes the whole time. Mrs. Pretorius took us to the hospital and spoke to the nurses and registrars while I elevated my bandaged hand. We saw a doctor within five minutes. He shot some local in my hand and went about sewing it up. It took 11 stitches. I didn’t pay anything. The following day I went back with Mrs. Pretorius to get the bandage changed and make sure the wound wasn’t infected. We waited about an hour before a nurse changed my bandages and rubbed iodine in everything imaginable. I paid N$20 or about $2.50 US. I was having difficulty closing my hand because of the swelling but I had no nerve damage. I skipped school the next day and went to the Ministry of Works to see if someone could come out and fix my door. We jerry rigged it well enough to slightly function but it was still having problems. I waited two days for someone to come take a look. No one did. I went back to school on Wednesday and Thursday but I had difficulty writing things on the board so I ended up making hand outs and having children write notes off my laptop. It wasn’t the most exciting lessons but I needed something. On Friday I went to the clinic to get my stitches removed. It was 7am and there were 42 people in front of me. The clinic didn’t open until 8am. I left and went to the private clinic that Peace Corps sent me to last year when I had a lung infection. I was seen within 10 minutes and paid N$236.00 or roughly $29.50 US. The stitches came out without incident. They put new bandages on and lots of various antibiotic creams. The next day I went to Windhoek for my closing of service (COS) conference with some more friends. The door was still broken. I arrived back to Rehoboth a week later and the door is more broken now because all of our jerry rigging makes it worse. The ministry still has not done anything.

The "n" word comes to Namibia

Last week I had a disruption in my classroom that I had never imagined. One of my learners was talking so I asked him to answer a question pertaining to the topic. When I called on him he replied, “What nigger?” The class immediately roars with laughter and shock. I was pissed. I start to move towards him as I yell for him to leave my class. He leaves without any hesitation and I go back to teaching and continue my lesson as normally as possible. The irony of the situation was not lost on me and I almost burst out laughing later in the class period but I needed to keep my angry face so the learners understand it’s a serious matter. The question then became, “What punishment is acceptable for this child?” He knew he was saying something rude but he didn’t realize the full extent of what he was saying. I went and discussed it with my principal. The next day I went to Windhoek to see some friends before they left. I returned and heard nothing about it for the rest of the week. I asked another teacher to explain what the word meant to the learner and why it was such a big deal. He did this both in KKG and in Afrikaans so the learners could understand fully. I approached the principal the following Monday with (what I thought was) a fair punishment. I said the learner is not allowed to attend classes for 3-5 days and instead has to work with the janitors to clean the school yard. I thought it was comparable to an in school suspension type of punishment. She agreed it sounded like an alternative to beating him. Wednesday I had a meeting with my HOD, the learner, and his parents. I told them what happened, why it was wrong, and what I recommend as a punishment. My HOD translates because my Afrikaans is not good enough to handle this complex of a situation and their English is not good enough to understand me. The parents are in favor of us beating learner and sending him on his way. We informed them that corporal punishment is illegal in this country and because these are official proceedings that cannot be a punishment. The parents then argue that missing three days of school is too much and that they would rather pull their child out of school than have that child clean the school yard for three days. They stated that missing any school would be too much and that if the child is going to miss school as punishment they will just take him out of school. I don’t understand this mindset. It’s completely illogical. The notes of the meeting were sent to the principal and she decided that he will clean up the school yard from 1pm to 5pm for three days. I don’t think he or any other learner in this school will ever say that word again because of the punishment and the commotion is caused. As a side note when we talked to him about what he thought the word meant he said he thought it was a curse word like “fuck or shit or asshole.” Still, not a word to say to a teacher.

Fish River Canyon

After nearly dying (I’m not being melodramatic) on the Naukluft hiking trail; myself and eleven friends decided to go Fish River Canyon, which is the world’s second largest canyon. I wore my running shoes instead of my hiking boots hoping that my feet would fare better than they did at Naukluft. The first day we made the descent into the canyon I learned a very important lesson. I don’t rock climb because of a horrible fear of heights. At Fish River Canyon I learned that heights are a relative term and I don’t like places that are great depths either. I was one of the slowest people down the near vertical descent. The first day involved a lot of light bouldering over large rock slides. After a few hours of hiking it became very apparent that twelve people might be too much diversity in hiking. By the end of the first day the six of us who also hiked Naukluft had descended and gone 10km. The rest of the group had not and didn’t meet up with us at night. This creates a problem because I was sharing a tent with a person who didn’t meet up and food with a girl who didn’t show up. I had the stove, gas, and Martin had food so we ate but she had to bum food off another group member. Day two came and we took a leisurely morning waiting for the other group. They caught up and we agreed on a hiking strategy. The front group would stop at 11am and wait for the others to catch up (likely around 12) so we can all eat lunch together. The group started hiking and this time broke into three groups. Three members sped ahead, myself, Martin and Kim held back and helped the final six who were having problems with blisters, pack size, and bad knees. The three of us hiked in front but always stayed in sight and were always careful to help and give advice about easy paths to those behind us. The three of us made it to the front group at 12:15pm after leaving the back group at a river crossing. The back group caught up at 1:30pm because they decided to stop for lunch. It was decided at lunch that four people (the four fastest were a food group) would finish the hike in four days and the rest of us in 5. Martin and I stayed behind in the slow group because of our other food group member. By the end of the day the slow group had made it to roughly the 27km point of a 90km hike. Day three I realized there were several people in the group I didn’t want to hike with. I have no problem carrying food or gas or anything that will help that will help the group but, if someone has packed too many personal/unnecessary items, I won’t carry that for you. At that point it’s your own fault for your problems. By the end of day three I was worried. We hadn’t made it to the 50km marker and we only had two days of food and gas left. Some in the group talked about turning it into a six day hike and I was very against that idea. Had they tried I would’ve walked alone and done it in five if I had to. Luckily for us day four had several short cuts and we were able to take those all the way to the 80km marker though we really only walked about 18km. Day four was great because it put us all at ease. I wasn’t the only one worrying and we nearly split a second time. At the end of day four we found a nice sandy beach that we camped on and I went for a swim. Day five was an easy hike about 10km to Ai-Ais. We were in by about 9:15 The first group was supposed to wait and meet us to discuss transport out. they were gone by the time we arrived because they got a ride with some people from NWR (Namibia Wildlife…) and arranged for a combi to take the rest of us. Some people were pretty upset they didn’t wait for us but I didn’t care much. I was pretty happy that we made it to the end without me skipping any meals. However after Naukluft and Fish River Canyon I seem to have lost another 10 pounds or so. It’s hard to keep up caloric intake if you have to carry all your food. On the other hand, I’ve been eating like a mad man since coming back. On another awesome note, my friend Matt Flick has return to Peace Corps after being medically separated for seven months. We’re all pretty happy to have him back.

Naukluft

For the start of the holiday I hiked with some friends on the Namib-Naukluft hiking trail. It’s a 120km hike in the Desert Mountains with searing hot temperatures during the day and freezing temperatures at night. The first day was pretty easy with some light hiking (15km) around some hills. There’s a shelter between 14 and 18 kilometers each day hike. The shelters are four foot high walls with a roof but a noticeable gap between the walls and the roof. Day two is when the trouble started. I had a few hot spots (spots that will likely blister) on my feet at the end of day one but nothing too bad. I had one on the back of my heel and the balls of my feet each had one. Day two is when I noticed that my hiking boots from Florida might be great for hiking on the soft ground in Florida but they weren’t up to standard for a semi dried river bed full of sharp, jagged rocks. By the end of day two I had two popped blisters, one on each foot. I started taping my feet to provide a bit more protection but the chains were difficult. When I say chains, I’m referring to chains set up by the park service that help you climb up and down rock faces. Most of these inclines are about a 75 degree angle and the chains aren’t entirely necessary but they’re helpful for people like me who are terrified of heights. The rest of the days passed without incident. We woke around 430am everyday and broke camp by 530am so we could hike before it became too hot, we finished before noon most days. However, we decided to do the eight day hike in seven days by combining the last two days into one 30km day. We woke at 330am and left camp by 430am. We started up a mountain and nearly reached the top by sunrise. This is considered one of the hardest days because it has one kilometer of chains to assist you going up the mountain. We agreed no chains in the dark but the sun was rising when we reached the first set. The only difficult one was up a waterfall. It wasn’t a fast flowing waterfall but it made the chains wet and there was slippery green moss on the rock making foot holds difficult. To add to our problems, baboons were occasionally dropping rocks down on us. None of us got hit but it certainly scared us. We pressed on for several more hours. I started struggling when we reached a dry river bed for (what seemed like) the hundredth time. The sharp volcanic rocks were cutting my feet. To make matters worse it was hot. Really hot. I drank four liters of water that day but by the end of the hike I was down to my last 1.5 liters and I needed to conserve some. I became pretty dehydrated. When I finally walked into the shelter (I was the last person) I had difficulty walking a straight line, felt like vomiting, and felt extremely cold despite the hot sun. I drank oral rehydration salts and rested. I was, by far, the worst off in the group, though we all had aches and pains on the last day. The following day I noticed that one of the blisters on my left foot looked infected. I was still pretty dehydrated so I got a second opinion and she agreed it looked infected. So I sliced it open with my pocket knife and drained the pus out. When I got back to Rehoboth I soaked my foot in a bucket with salt water. I’m supposed to hike Fish River Canyon (a much easier hike) in about 4 days but I’m not sure if I will. I need to see if my feet can recover fast enough.

Rugby hurts

This week I played in my first ever rugby tournament. I was the starting wing on the third team. Now to toot my own horn for a second, I am an excellent athlete. I was on every all star baseball team from 3rd grade to 8th grade. I was on a team ranked 4th in the nation. I started playing soccer in 10th grade. In 11th grade I made honorable mention all area, 12th grade I made first team all area and honorable mention all state. So the idea that I’m playing third fiddle behind several people infuriates me. Even though it’s a game I don’t understand and don’t know all the rules of, I still want to be the best and I expect myself to be the best. Sometimes competitiveness is a pain in the ass. Before the first game I got the same excitement as I did when I played football. It’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remain calm on the outside but prepare myself for contact.
The first game I played in was against the Valley Boys, though this team is made of Rehoboth Falcon. I got in on a few tackles but I never actually got the ball. We lost the game 10-8. They scored a try in the final minutes and we had an opportunity to win but didn’t convert a penalty kick. The second game was against Kudu from Windhoek. I finally got the ball in this game. I carried the ball about 10 meters and then was tackled. A few moments later we scored a try. We got a penalty kick after that and had 10 points. I was taken out in the second half and we ended up losing 11 to 10. I like to think it was because they took me out. The third game was Rehoboth’s second team against the third team. The second team came out presumptuous that they would win and we would roll over. We came out and scored 8 points quickly and held them to nothing going into the half. I was taken out at half again after making a few tackles. After a few minutes out the coach called me over and I started playing for the second team because one of their players was injured. It made me feel awesome because there were several other wings that could’ve moved to the second team but I was the one asked to play. The third team won 8 to 7 but I got to celebrate either way. Point differential was calculated and the second team was allowed to go to the semi finals. I was allowed to play with the second team for the semi finals.
In the semi finals it was Rehoboth’s first team versus their second team. I went in with high spirits considering the third team just beat the second team. However, I was quickly proven wrong. They murdered us up and down the field for two 10 minute halves. These guys know their rugby and they know each other. It was easy to tell these guys have all played together for at least 5 years. Experience beats talent 95% of the time. By the end of the game my knees were scraped, my lip was bleeding, my nose bled a bit, and I could taste blood in my mouth. It’s been a long time since I felt like that. It was a good feeling. The final match for us was against a team from Cape Town. They declared they were tired and they forfeited. I didn’t know if I had anything left but I would’ve found out. They were tired and I can’t blame them. Cape Town is 20 hours or so from Reho. The Rehoboth second team finished third in the tournament. The final game was the Valley Boys versus Rehoboth’s first team. Our first team won 11 to 6. I was invited out with the guys to celebrate but I was far too tired and sore to do much more than eat and sleep.
Oh yeah, during the second game I was kicked in the head after I was tackled. I was a bit surprised when it happened but looking back on it, it wasn’t a cheap shot or anything like that. I was on the ground a guy trying to protect me kicked me in the head. I have a nice bruise next to my left eye and my eye is a bit red. Let the good times roll.

Group 35 PST

I’ve been going to rugby practice every Tuesday and Thursday. I’m not particularly good but that’s mostly because I don’t really understand the game, or what position I am, or what I’m supposed to do. However, the coach and other players seem optimistic that I can be turned into a solid player. I am faster than most of the guys, though out of shape, and made some good, hard tackles during practice. However, my body has only so many tackles in it before soreness becomes a problem. Oh well. If I get injured Peace Corps will pay for everything.
In other (and more interesting) news, I went to group 35’s pre-service training (PST) as a resource volunteer this past week. It was awesome working with them. They’re an excitable group of individuals and seem eager to get to their sites. It was a bit strange because they made pop culture references that I missed in my year and a half here. I gave a presentation on working with Namibian children and I specifically tried to scare them. I could tell that I burst their optimism bubbles but as a group they bounced back and are determined to prepare themselves for the things ahead. I explained that sometimes things here are miserable but you have to push through it. “The highs are really high and the lows are really low.” Many people appreciated my honesty but one girl was particularly weird. *Carley interrogated me several times and said some really awkward things. I feel sorry for her parents. The older volunteers in the group are totally awesome people. I enjoyed talking with Cathey, Jim, and Mary in particular. I don’t know what any other PST was like (other than my own) but as a whole, group 35 looks like they’ll be a solid and fun group to have in Namibia. As a side note, there is another Rob in Namibia now.
One thing that made my week was when Nicole delivered a can of enchilada sauce that was given to her by Matt Flick, a volunteer from my group who left Namibia. She also gave me an orange and blue survival bracelet that he had made. I’m not in the habit of accepting jewelry from guys, but it was pretty moving. Not only do I get to flaunt the dominance of the Gators over everyone else but I also get to eat enchiladas while doing it.

*Carley is actually a pretty awesome individual. However, she told me her dad found and reads my blog so I had to say something. I hope you are well Mr. Johnson. She’s in good hands with Peace Corps.

General training of trainers and illness

I recently returned from Omaruru where group 35 will have their pre-service training. I have been selected as one of the resource volunteers to assist the new group in adapting to the life of a volunteer in Namibia. It was like any other workshop. People talked, we made plans, we discussed things, and we talked about the new group. All in all it wasn’t particularly exciting. The town of Omaruru however is rather nice but expensive. There is a large Afrikaner population because of the farmland nearby which drives prices for everything up. I’ll be one of the first volunteers group 35 will get to meet, it should be interesting.
Recently I became rather ill after eating some fish that I might not have prepared properly or it might have not been stored properly before we bought it. Sam (my roommate) bought some fish from a dude in a parking lot outside of his school. I know that sounds shady but it’s really quite common. I ate two fish and started feeling bad about an hour later. I won’t go into detail but let’s say it was quite the unpleasant experience. I got food poisoning and ended up with a GI track infection because of the food poisoning. I also managed to strain several abdominal muscles due to the violence of my vomiting. I also became dehydrated because I was unable to hold anything down. I started drinking oral rehydration salts. If you’ve never tasted oral rehydration salts imagine going to the beach, filling a nalgene with salt water, and drinking the whole thing slowly over time while you have painful stomach issues. That’s how it feels. It’s almost like a punishment for being dehydrated. However, it is much nicer than the alternatives of IV fluids, or worse, suppositories.

A first time for everything

So far the garden is going pretty well. We have several plants growing and only one small problem. None of the plants growing are growing where we planted them. For instance, in one bed we planted watermelon and in one bed we planted peppers. We now have watermelons growing in both beds and peppers growing in a third bed. I have a theory about birds coming, digging up the seeds, and then crapping them out in another place where they grew. Overall though, the garden is still quite nice looking and should be producing its first fruits within a week or two.
On to something more interesting. This week I made my first learner cry and go home. Then another first, I had my first parent come to school to find out what I did to make her child cry and go home. So let me explain. Thursday I gave all my classes’ physical science exams. I made them extra long because I have double periods on Thursday which means I teach the same class for two straight periods. The first class (8A) worked nearly the entire time on the exams and my preliminary grading shows they did ok. Grade 10A followed and they worked nearly the whole two periods. Then grade 8B took the exam. The entire class finished in about 25 minutes. I look at the exams and notice that half of the answers are blank or have a random word filled in. This angers me severely. Some of the learners went to sleep after the exam (I have no problem with this because I did it all the time in school) so I started waking them up by going around and tapping on them with the exams. Not hard but hard enough that they woke up and knew it was time to listen to the teacher. I start asking questions off of the exam and going over answers. One girl goes back to sleep. I go over and wake her again. She turns her head and says “no” and puts her head back down on her desk. Now, there are several ways to anger a teacher (I’ve done many of them) but saying “No” to a teacher is probably the fastest way to get their blood boiling. I pull her desk away. She puts her head on her lap and says “No” again. I asked her to leave the Stand up. “No”. “Leave the class.” “No”. I am left with no option. I start pulling her chair out from under her. She stands up and leaves the classroom. When she gets outside she runs away from school and I have no chance to talk to her away from the other learners. I go back to the exam.
About five minutes later a parent comes to my door with another teacher. I escort her to the office and we have a conversation through/with the principal, it was partially in KKG. She wasn’t angry, she just wanted to know why her child came home crying. I explain my side of the story and she agreed that her child was out of line. She also gave me a little advice, next time don’t send her child out of the classroom because it’s embarrassing. Instead just beat her. We left on good terms and everything was fine.

Deja vu

The new term has started and everything is getting right back on track. This year seems to be starting a lot better than last year. I’ve given up trying to motivate the all kids by becoming a mentor to them. The overwhelming majority just don’t care. I have a few that seem to be following my example though they aren’t in my classes anymore. This year I have grade 8 physical science and math, and a grade 10 physical science. My classes are pretty well behaved so far but it’s early in the year. Last year I made a rookie teacher mistake by being too lenient in the beginning. It’s a lot harder to be a hard ass to a bunch of people you don’t know than you’d think. After getting a taste of undisciplined children last year, it’s become much easier to be a hard ass to the kids. I see the ones who are most likely to cause problems and try to stop it early. Everyone in Peace Corps says your second year gets easier and it couldn’t be truer. I know what to expect from the staff and from the learners. I know what to do if the power goes out. I also know what to do when everything completely changes in the middle of the day for no apparent reason. Last year I tried to be the model of professionalism and certainty, always being on time to classes and being annoyed when a staff meeting went over or started late. I was trying to be the rock in the middle of the river. Slowly, over time, I’ve learned to be a piece of drift wood instead and just go with it. It’s not easy to do. In the US we are so used to the rigidity of our educational system that it’s hard to break into a fluid system.
This rainy season is not like last year’s rainy season. Last year it rained nearly every day and once or twice I woke up to find a seasonal river going through the town. This year the rain has been more sporadic. It will rain about four or five times in a week and then it won’t rain at all for a week. I love the rain here. It slows everything down and cools everything off. The only problem with the rain is when the power goes out but even then you just eat a can of beans and read by candle light.
Athletics (track and field) has begun for the year. The entire school is broken into teams and forced to compete against each other. Even if you hate sports its compulsory. I don’t quite understand why they make it compulsory, but they do. I see the same problems this year that I saw last year. For instance, no one hydrates. Before races the runners are given sugary juices and maybe a Gatorade, but not water. As a result some of the competitors collapse upon finishing the race or right before the finishing line.
Within the first three weeks of school starting we have had two teachers resign from their posts. One was a grade 6-8 math teacher and the other was grade 8-10 life science teacher. This creates a rather large dilemma because both were put on the time table (schedule) and now all the other teachers will have to cover for them. Hopefully we will be able to replace them soon but I’m not overly optimistic. Most likely all of their classes will be given to other teachers and we will continue as normally as possible. However, the other problem is, I leave in October and all of my classes will also need to be divided amongst the teachers. Imagine needing to split three teachers’ workloads on the rest of the teachers at a school. It’s not fun for anyone.

Jet Airliner

Before I left for America, I embarked with several friends on a trip through northern parts of Namibia in a rented bakkie (truck). The first day started in Rehoboth and ended in Ruacana Falls on the border with Angola. This is where we found out our map was not entirely accurate. It stated that Rehoboth was 900km from Ruacana, its closer to 1100km. After a full day of driving we camped for the night and relaxed. The next day we went down to the falls and looked at the trickle of water that barely peaked through the rocks. It was a bit disappointing. Since it’s been dry season so long there’s almost no water in the falls. However, the mountain man of the group had a good idea and we went bouldering on all the rocks that would be covered in water and inaccessible come rainy season. After Ruacana we traveled to Epupa falls. This drive was spectacular, through mountain terrain, dried river beds, and near traditional Himba villages. Here the falls did not disappoint. Though they are along the same river, Epupa Falls is not as seasonal as Ruacana.
From Epupa we traveled south through some crazy mountainous terrain to Sesfontein (6 springs) and Fort Sesfontein. Now, something I’ve learned, driving is not the same everywhere you go. Imagine driving down a mountain, 7 people and gear for a week, on a dirt road, without anti-lock brakes. Luck for the group I learned on the fly and only lost control a handful of times and never in a serious way. Sometimes we slid a little. We saw the fort (now a hotel) but were unable to stay due to the expense. We drove on the next day to Twyfulfontein (doubtful springs), organ pipes, and the burnt mountain. We spent the night at a campsite that had a nice little restaurant and bar. The cool thing about this place is that they also had lots of bats. On more than one occasion we thought we might get attacked. I already had plenty of rabies shots so I wasn’t too worried. Finally we went to Brandberg, Namibia’s tallest mountain. Though this is a beautiful area, the guide (who was required) was a complete jackass and attempted to spoon feed us bullshit about the history of the place. Here one of our spare tires was stolen from our truck. It put a damper on the end of what was an amazing trip. We went back to Rehoboth, dropping people off along the way, and it was good to be back in my flat relaxing.
Two days later I boarded a plane and took the 30 hour journey back to Gainesville Florida. The plane ride was awesome. I wore my Peace Corps polo shirt and met a lot of cool people, some were former PCVs and others who just finished service or were still in Peace Corps. The 17 hours from Johannesburg to Atlanta was close to miserable, the over the counter, natural, organic, sleep aid did nothing whatsoever. In fact in my 30 hours of travel I slept maybe four. Once back in Gainesville I called people, hung out with my family, and made plans for later in the week. I never really believed much about jet lag, but that me hard for the next few days. I would go to sleep around 5pm and wake around 2am. It was strange but eventually worked out. I had a lot of fun seeing people and hanging out with family. I traveled back to Namibia starting three days ago and finally made it back to Rehoboth. Tomorrow I’m going to make enchiladas. Also, Air Namibia is not a fun airline. By far, the worst food of the trip and all the seat belts say “Air France”.

Racism, sometimes it's awesome?

After being in Namibia for well over a year, I have noticed all sorts of prejudices. Most are tribal related and date back several hundred years. The Damara and the Herrero have been fighting off and on for nearly 1000 years, though with no written record of when the conflict started it’s difficult to know when it actually started. Everyone just knows those two hate each other and always have. Occasionally though, it is extremely helpful to be white. Why? You say. Well, as many of you know I’ve been working on a school renovation project with money that was donated by my church (thanks Trinity United Methodist Church) and we finally went to Windhoek to buy paint, brushes, sealant, and a few minor things for classroom repairs. I went with my vice principal (Mr. Bock) who is a Baster (colored). We spoke with the people in the paint section about prices and inquired about a school discount. They sent us to the manager who was an Afrikaner, white people who are known for establishing apartheid. I speak with him instead of my vice principal and he sends me to a contract manager, who is another Afrikaner. The second guy barely spoke but gave us a large discount. I mean he took off about N$2000, about a 35% discount when we were just hoping to get 10% off. My vice principal is convinced it’s because I’m white. I think it’s more likely because I’m American. People here are fascinated with Americans. I’ll never actually know why they gave us such a large discount, but I know we’re going to take advantage of it for the next year.
Also I have decided that one rabies post exposure treatment was not enough and decided that I should obtain a dog so I can receive more rabies treatments. In reality my new roommate wanted a dog so I agreed and ended up getting a dog from another volunteer. He’s about four months old and his former name is “Polony,” but it has been decided he needs a new one. We decided to rename him “wicket,” not after cricket or croquet but after the ewok adventure movies of the mid 1980’s . Yes, I found a roommate who is a nerdy as I am. Sometime Peace Corps is awesome.
School has been hectic and crazy since the start of term three but I’m just going with it. Only one more week of teaching and then I can sit back and watch learners take exams. Then it’s off on a whirlwind adventure around northern Namibia followed by time in the states. I’m using all my vacation time to do these trips. It’s ok though, my only other planned trip is Cape Town next April. My garden workshop had to be postponed for a few days. If it happens again I’m just going to dig the whole thing myself. It’s easier than trying to plan around the constant cycle of weddings and funerals.

Onward and Upward

Term is pretty much back to normal after the initial confusion and craziness. Or maybe I adjusted my definition of confusion and craziness; I’m not sure which yet. The garden is coming along nicely though we won’t be planting until November 5th. It’s supposed to be a garden workshop but I’m not too optimistic that teachers will give up half a Saturday to dig in the ground so I may end up doing the whole thing myself. I don’t actually mind because it gives me something productive to do in the afternoons. Two of my classes have been combined into one massive class which is creating most of the current problems. 8C and 8D were combined which puts somewhere around 55 learners in a class. There aren’t enough chairs or tables, or even space, but no one really seems to care.
I played soccer this week with some learners from the hostel next to my flat. They’re pretty good but completely undisciplined when it comes to tactics. Mostly they rely on an individual or two to do all the scoring and work while everyone else tries to get in the way. I tripped and landed on my left while playing and decided it was best to pull myself out. I put ice on it, elevated, and called Peace Corps. The next day I went to the Rehoboth School Spelling Bee and was impressed with some of the learners. My school was out in the first elimination round (like always) but other schools had to spell words like lymphocyte and aborigine. Some 20 rounds later a winner was crowned. Otherwise there’s not much going on in my life. Oh I might also be getting another puppy from a volunteer. This one has all its shots and hopefully won’t give me rabies.

Term 3

The start of term 3 has been riddled with problems and annoyances. After coming off of a wonderful break, the learners have decided that being a mutinous, whirlwind of insanity is an excellent way to kick off the new term. The problem is similar to that of senioritis, except with more violence. The learners who are going to pass, know they are going to pass, and don’t care. The learners who are going to fail (most of them) know they are going to fail, and don’t care. Most of this term is spent doing review for the end of year exams. So the learners don’t have anything new and the smart ones know everything already. The ones who are demotivated because of the last term’s grades give up trying to learn the old information. So you have two completely separate groups of disinterested people. This creates a huge headache for the teachers.
Now before you go thinking that everything is bad, I’ve developed a new hobby to release my stress. I’ve finally started digging my garden. It’s 6m x 6.5m x 10cm roughly. I posted some videos on facebook but for those of you who are not my friend on facebook, I will explain the process. The entire area was full of dead grass left over from the previous rainy season. This grass is 2.5 feet high and with roots that go down a few centimeters. The grass has adapted to be resilient and grow back quickly. I cannot simply plant over it, so I have to dig it all out. I’ve spent at least ten hours on it already and its coming along nicely but I need to spend about another 10 hours or so on it. This is all just preparation, we haven’t actually planted anything and we won’t be planting anything until the beginning of November.
Also this week I met my new roommate Sam. He’s from Georgia and seems like a nice guy. He won’t move in until December because he has to do a homestay with a family in Rehoboth. He will work at Rehoboth Primary School teaching English. It was awesome meeting his principal, Paul. Paul is actually interested in making sure the volunteers are comfortable and he’s committed to painting part of the flat, as well as moving in some comfortable furniture. This is a small miracle. I slept on the floor for three months because my bed was so shitty (only accurate word) it hurt my back. My principal (and the inspector) wouldn’t do anything for me. It good to see that there are some principals who see volunteers as more than just free labor.

if you're traveling the north country side

I started my journey heading north on the B1 (main road) to Tsumeb to meet up with my friends Quinn and Gretchen. I’ve been to Tsumeb before but it is one of the nicest areas in Namibia. It has some of the most fertile land and looks well maintained by the population. Of course, I did not visit the location (ghetto) where most of the problems are. After that I headed north (still on the B1) to Ondangwa. The landscape along the road is reminiscent of Paines Prairie, with long stretches of flat grassland with only a few trees no taller than a two story house. Along the road sprawls mud huts and tiny villages every few kilometers. Nearly half the population lives in the area, we call, the four O’s, or Oland. This area is populated by the Owambos and is largely homogeneous. I made my way to Eenhana (silent “h”) and then on to the village of Okongo to see my friend Edward.
Just north of Ondangwa the landscape changes, the grass is greener, the trees are taller, and a real feeling of Africa overcomes you. Edward and I cook in his brick house on a homestead. A homestead is an enclosed area with several huts or houses living under the same patriarch, many PCVs in the north live with a family on homesteads. Edward introduces me to the family and we decide that we should go to Oshikongo, a border town between Angola and Namibia. Oshikongo is one of the strangest places on earth and I determined I was 64% more likely to die in that town than anywhere else in Namibia. It’s not exceptionally dangerous or anything, there’s just a ton of taxis and people. Taxis in this area do not drive by any sort of rules. The just simply drive and try to get more people for more money without any regard to other cars or pedestrians. Now the crazy part about Oshikongo is the china town area. I didn’t expect to find a china town outside of Windhoek but right on the border is a china town with restaurants, housing, and shops, for the Chinese only.
I went back to Okongo but left the next day for Tsumeb. I met my friend Min, who was traveling to Victoria Falls, and went to a really nice country club with Quinn. Nothing of real excitement happened. I left and went on to Okahandja, meeting up with Shannon, Brian, Diana, and some of the new group, who arrived a week ago. While in Okahandja I am told of an opportunity to head to Spitzkoppe and I leave the next day heading east.
I meet up with my friends Adam and Jeanine, and their friends Spencer and Mel from America. We camped in the Spitzkoppe mountain range. It’s a good thing I always bring my tent (and food) while traveling. Spitzkoppe is an absolutely gorgeous mountain range complete with technical climbing routes, or if you’re like me, hiking routes. We spent much of the afternoon and early evening just climbing around on massive boulders and mountains before watching sunset over desert. We made a fire and slept well that night. The next day they dropped me off in Karibib and I heading for Rehoboth, making it home around 4pm, completely exhausted. I covered between 400 and 650 kilometers everyday without rest for 6 days.


Also the title comes from a Bob Dylan song.

Entrepreneurship Day

This past Friday my school had its first entrepreneurship day of the year. It was a pretty big success. The learners and teachers all had fun. My group made a pizza, cake, pancakes, potato salad, cookies, and we had colored pencils, string and other items for sale. The pizza was the first to go lasting less than 20 minutes before being devoured by learners and teachers alike. I didn’t know it would go over so well. Often American (and foreign) food don’t go over well unless it’s covered in meat and grease. My pizza had only the necessary amount of grease and meat. Teachers are now asking for the recipe and to come over and watch me make it so they can do it for themselves. I don’t know how my teaching impact is, but if nothing else I can show everyone here how to make a good pizza. I also allowed the teachers and learners to cut my hair for N$2 per cut. It went over well with the teachers but the learners spent their money on the bounce castle or food. One of the highlights for a few learners was when I let them shave my beard with an electric razor. They enjoyed it and left me with a nice mustache. It was good to “let my hair down” with the learners. Most of the time they see me I’m very serious and work oriented. The teachers have all seen me have fun and make jokes but it’s not a side I show to the learners too often because I want them to be as serious about their education as I am about teaching them. During the festival I spoke with my HOD and we want to put on another one in October. This time I will make more than one pizza.
After the festival, Ricky and I went to judge the Mr. and Mrs. Ruimte (pronounced raim-ta) pageant as a favor to Anna, the other world teach volunteer in Rehoboth. These pageants are a big deal here and they are sometimes corrupt. That is why Ricky and I were brought in as impartial judges from America. In the end winners were crowned but that was not the highlight of the night for me. There was a section of the contest called “recycle” wear. The children were supposed to make a dress out of old everyday items and they were extremely creative. There was a dress made entirely out of old ties and several unique skirts made out of burlap sacks. The one that won though was a dress made completely out of Xrays from the hospital. The chest piece was even a chest Xray. Needless to say Ricky and I were blown away when we saw that dress.
I’m still sick but hopefully getting better soon.

Absurdity and ridiculousness at its best

In the interest of full disclosure I would like to pre-apologize for any offensive language in this blog. I often try to keep my blogs relatively clean but after this past week it just seems unreasonable. I actually wrote this twice. The first time was an incoherent rant filled with a slew of curse words and colorful language.

On July 18th I went to mid-service training with the rest of group 32. It was really nice to see everyone again and I even learned a few good techniques for classroom management. Two days later I went to the all volunteer conference (AVC) where we ate delicious food, used high speed internet, drank significant amounts of beer, and sat in on guest speakers. The Deputy Minister of Education gave a speech and so did the Director of Education for Hardap region. The highlight of the conference was meeting the ambassador from the US to Namibia. We had a meet and greet at her house, which was large and beautiful, where we ate pizza and there was draft beer. Draft beer isn’t something we get often so it was a good change up. That was the good part of the week, now for the bad.

During AVC I received a text saying my dog was sick. The next day I got a call saying it would cost N$3000 and the dog needs to go to a hospital. Not having the money for this I asked my counterpart to take care of it. Later I received a text that said “dog done” and I believed my dog was dead. That night I got a call from Mrs. Pretorius where she said “Ernest (my dog) is responding well to medicine and might recover,” I was ecstatic. I came home Saturday the 23rd and retrieved my dog from the Pretorius house. Ernest immediately responded to the sound of my voice, though he was weak and sickly, he raised his head and tried to get up. Mrs. Pretorius gave me the medicine and some food and I carried the sick puppy back to my flat. I fed him medicine with a syringe, gave him a warm towel in his box, placed it next to a heater, and gave him lots of food and water. In the middle of the night he started having severe seizures, foaming at the mouth, and he became unable to control his bodily fluids. In the morning the two volunteers (PCVs) staying with me for the weekend left to run errands while I watched the dog. I put warm water in the bath tub and moved him so he could piss and shit without making my flat gross. I gave him water using the syringe and tried to make him comfortable. He died as I was petting him and I was miserable. This was the only time I thought about coming home since I left nearly a year ago.

Now earlier I mentioned there were two other PCV’s and I mentioned the dog had seizures and foamed at the mouth. These two were worried about rabies. I was just depressed. They called the medical officer and it was determined that we should all be put on rabies quarantine and then come to Windhoek for additional rabies shots. That’s right, fucking rabies quarantine. One of the PCVs and I were told to stay in Rehoboth for quarantine and not venture out too much though I was allowed to attend school. I never in my life thought that I would be put on quarantine for anything let alone a disease that, if untreated, kills 100% of the time. The absurdity and ridiculousness begins and I spin out of control, losing my fucking mind in the process.

I return to school the following day only to find that 8D has decided my classroom would be better if they broke my desk. That afternoon we had a meeting where all the teachers argued for more corporal punishment. I kept my mouth shut until I was asked to speak by another teacher. I spoke concisely and passionately about not beating children but was mostly ignored me. However I managed to convince one teacher to stop corporal punishment. Hooray for small victories, otherwise this place would eat you alive. I returned to my flat where my quarantine buddy and I make some mac and cheese. Sometimes mac and cheese is the best food ever. Wednesday I got slightly yelled at for not having my end of term exams ready. They weren’t ready because I was at a conference and then getting rabies shots. I quickly worked with two other teachers to get exams prepared. Wednesday was uninteresting except for the fact that my immune system is in a state of shock. I received a flu shot and a hepatitis shot, and a rabies shot, and went to school where half of my learners are sick. I cough so hard my chest hurts.

Thursday I go back to Windhoek with my quarantine buddy and speak with the medical officer only this time she notices the cough and writes a prescription for some over the counter cough medicine to knock loose the phlegm in my lungs. I get another shot and wonder how many vaccines are too many. Friday my school has an American day. American day is when the learners pay two dollars and are allowed to wear clothes other than the school uniform. No teaching occurs and I sit around solving IT problems for my HOD and colleagues. Since my absence, many computers seem to have developed random IT problems that I fix. My cough is getting worse and the medicine seems useless. Ricky, Liz and Anna come over for pizza Friday night. It was a successful night of bitching. My roommate Mitra left to take a week off from school and go to Zambia on vacation. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t so committed. That way I could go on vacation in the middle of a term. Shit I’ve only take 4 sick days this term and spent most of it with some form of flu/cough/rabies.

Some other little things annoyed me too but they aren't important enough to mention on my blog.

Upside down

Lately my world has been upside down. I was given a puppy by my colleague Mrs. Pretorius, six days later it was stolen. The following day the security guards stole it back for me. Then I went to mid service, all volunteer conference, my dog died, and a fair bit of room mate conflict. I was always taught, "If you don't have anything nice to say then don't say anything at all." So instead I will just post a link to her blog and allow you to read anything you like. Please do not comment on this page or in any other public forum. If you feel your opinion needs to be heard, you may email me or facebook me.

http://bombsandfireworks.tumblr.com/