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.