Owambo Wedding

Last weekend I attended an Owambo wedding. Their culture is the one I've grown closest to here in Namibia. I live near Owamboland, just north of Tsumeb, so naturally I have met more of them. My family in Tsumeb is Owambo. I have many Oshiwambo speaking friends. My girlfriend is Owambo and the bride in the wedding is her cousin. The wedding was fine, but I must admit my favourite part was the slaughtering of three cows. I've never seen it done before. It took 4-5 guys a couple of hours on each cow. Here are some pictures.

Beautiful View

It’s the ghetto (location), but the view is beautiful. I was in the big capital of Windhoek last weekend with friends. We went to a family member’s house for dinner. At first we regretted the decision because it was difficult to find. We had to wait 30 minutes while two little girls from the house came to fetch us at a crossroads. They led us through a myriad of hills and dirt roads that had us constantly asking, “are we there yet?” When we did arrive my out-of-shape friend thought she would faint. We gave her a beer and then she was fine. The house was small and simple as most homes in the location are. The beauty of it was we were on the very outskirts of the city, up on a hill… in the ghetto. In America it would be prime suburb real estate; great mountain views, beautiful sunsets and away from the noise of the city. I watched one of those sunsets while the two little girls from the house jumped rope and played paddy cake. Their jump rope is made of plastic bags. They just tie them together until it’s long enough. Kids even make soccer balls out of plastic bags. I also noticed a creative soccer goal the other day. They strung together a bunch of aluminum cans and tied it to the top of two posts… and we think we know how to recycle.

The sitting room was crammed with two couches, two chairs and a coffee table. There was just enough room for the seven of us to eat dinner together. The ladies placed the different dishes around the table. It’s a good thing we didn’t use plates because there wouldn’t have been room. The dishes were pap (porridge), ekaka (traditional spinach), soup, pork steaks and fish (one giant Angel Fish stuffed with sliced tomato, onion and seasonings…yum!). Everything was really good, especially the atmosphere. It’s not that often I get to enjoy a traditional meal, in the traditional manner, sitting together and sharing. It still gives me a special feeling doing this. I feel accepted. I don’t feel like an outsider. Even after two years I still clearly recognize that I am an outsider. When moments like this occur, I cherish them.

I don’t usually enjoy going to Windhoek, but this time was different. I wish I had a few pictures for you but taking them would’ve been silly. It would’ve changed the atmosphere, and I would've felt like an outsider.

Bummin Around

Wow it's been a while, neh? I'm still chugging along. I just finished another vacation with my Dad and his wife, Kim. It was nice but unfortunately they both got sick and we had to trim some things off our trip. I sure am lucky to get all this free time to roam around Namibia, and other countries. Sometimes I forget I have a job. Speaking of which... Our support group is still going pretty strong. The ladies are finishing up their sewing classes and soon will be making there own dresses and other clothing. I'm in the process of buying the necessary materials now. We have to spend the rest of our grant money before the end of July. I hope to post a blog in the next couple months showing what we've produced and maybe even sold. Wish us luck.

Sorry I don't have more. I'll get some pictures up soon. I promise.

To rant or to praise...hmmm?

I spent the last couple days working with the Ministry of Health on what I think is called a ‘Youth Mobilisation Campaign.’ I’m not really sure why it’s called that. We’re going around to several of the churches here in Tsumeb and discussing HIV, STIs, Alcohol & Drugs and Teen Pregnancy with young people getting ready to be confirmed. I really enjoy the 30 minutes I get to spend talking to the kids. The rest of the process I could do without. It starts with poor planning. The Ministry came to Meameno Centre a couple months ago asking for help. That part impressed me. That’s way ahead of schedule. Unfortunately, they didn’t really have a plan. Sure they have an outline of what the government wants them to cover and a budget for a snack (without this I’m not sure anyone would show up). The lady in charge asked us to present HIV, Alcohol & Drugs. She got a nurse to do Teen Pregnancy. She herself managed to cover STIs. She did this by taking a pamphlet on STIs and reading it word for word at our presentations. If I had to take it away from her and ask her about symptoms of STIs I’m afraid what her answer might be. On top of that, when she tried to offer her own additional information it was often false. This lady works for the Ministry of Health at a regional level. The nurse was better at being interactive but her English level is low. The kids had a hard time understanding her. We showed up to both sessions late which didn’t bother me nearly as much as the fact our leader had to list off excuses for why we were late... most of which were lies. At the end of Friday’s session we ended up short about 10 sandwiches. Some of the ten who didn’t get to eat were the boys who who were busy reorganising all the desks and chairs before they got into line. Who says extra effort pays off?

This probably sounds pretty bad neh? I think I made it sound worse than it is. I was just laughing as I re-read it. I just wanted to give you a picture of some of the difficulties here. Don’t feel sorry for me. This stuff doesn’t really get to me. The fact is Namibia is a very young country and things like this are happening everyday. I think they’re working pretty hard at trying to make it better. The lady who I put so much blame on here is not a bad person. She grew up in the Apartheid era. She was taught a lower level of education specifically for blacks, and she had to learn it all in Afrikaans, not English. Now she holds a great job. She’s kind and seems to really care about these kids’ future. Working with her makes me feel relaxed and needed. I like feeling that way.

Here’s some pictures of me and my sis. She was here for two weeks in May. We did a lot. We went to Victoria Falls/Zambia and Chobe Game Park/Botswana (pictured). We hitchhiked (pictured) a lot of it. It may have been the best time we ever had together.

In Peace Corps I...

Travelled to Africa... almost learned a second language... gained a new family... challenged my beliefs... read a lot of books... quit yoga... quit running... walk a lot, at a slower pace... made new friends... broke my caffeine addiction... learned to deal better with depression and loneliness... ate new food, like worms and goat face... found some romance... grew my hair out... feel it’s too hot about 320 days of the year... started sleeping on a box spring... got terrible diarrhoea... became an expert texter... hitchhiked through Namibia... was robbed... became closer with people back home... helped support people living with HIV/AIDS... decided I want to be a counsellor... learned British English... swam in the Indian Ocean... spent New Year’s Eve in Capetown... wish I would’ve accomplished more... gained serious appreciation for music... learned how to make tortillas... really miss Mexican Food... drove on the other side of the road... almost hit a giraffe... stayed on a traditional homestead... learned about stars in the Southern Hemisphere... crossed the Tropic of Capricorn... climbed a sand dune with my mom... became a master of making lemonade... enjoyed working with teenagers... have seen a lot of American influence here... won a gold medal playing basketball... met the Namibian Chess Champion... kinda feel like I’m in college again... stopped bathing daily...love saying hello...

And I still got 7 months to go!

Sewing Classes & School Lessons

They began on Tuesday at 8h30. Five ladies from our support group are learning to sew. It makes me very happy. It's so tangible. They are there sewing three days a week now. It's a skill they don't have, and one they would otherwise have to pay for to obtain. It's also one that could earn them a living if they get good at it. We always talk about trying to make sustainable contributions as volunteers. Finally I think I'm part of something that truly qualifies. The instructor says they are
learning fast. Right now they are only practising lines on copy paper but in a few months we hope they can begin making their own dresses.

I also got to go out to one of my favourite communities this week, Ondundu. I think I've mentioned it before. It's about 2km outside of Tsumeb. It's a pretty walk and the people there always greet me warmly. My colleague Jacob and I gave some basic HIV education to grade 5, 6 & 7 at the primary school there. The students were much better behaved then the last time I was there. It helps having a Namibian adult in the room with them... unfortunately it's their fear that keeps
them in line, but that's a topic for a whole other blog. Anyway, we got to speak to about 100 students on topics like HIV transmission and ways it is not transmitted; how to treat someone living with HIV/AIDS; and what HIV does in the body.

It felt like a very productive week, even though I only worked 3 1/2 days. The month is flying by, just like the year, which begs the question... what will I do next year? I'll let you know when I figure that out. Ta ta for now.

Nelson Mandela

I have lived nothing short of a privileged life. I come from a loving family. I was given a free education. I was riding a bike - that was mine - by the time I was 6 years old. I was driving a car - that I owned - by the time I was 17. I was given the right to vote, and the opportunity to work and earn a living. My country allows me to live where I want and basically do what I want to do. In my 32 years I’ve never known anything but freedom.

Nelson Mandela spent the first 72 years of his life without many of the basic freedoms I know… and he spent most of that time trying to get them, not only for himself, but for everyone in South Africa. His speeches and writings inspired millions to stand up against the European government and its system of apartheid. By 1964 the ruling white party realised the only way to thwart the African National Congress (ANC) movement for equality was to throw as many of them into jail as possible... and that’s where Mandela stayed for the next 27 years. Nelson Mandela was a moving speaker and an even better writer from what I can tell. I just finished a book called ‘Nelson Mandela: The Struggle is My Life’. It’s a collection of his speeches and writings. I was astonished by his command of the English language. It’s no wonder so many people rallied around him. At the age of 34, after graduating with a law degree, he became Deputy President of the ANC. The ANC fought against the apartheid government, mostly through non-violent protest, until South Africa finally gained its freedom in 1994. Nelson Mandela was accused of sabotage and sentenced to life imprisonment in 1964. Imagine being told you would spend the rest of your life behind bars because you sought equality among people. Mandela was a major threat to the ruling racist government. That’s essentially what it boils down to and why he was imprisoned. He was released in 1990, and eventually became the free country’s first president. The thing I suppose I’m most impressed with is his composure, and ability to suppress his anger. Those who were close to him in prison say you didn’t see him get angry, or rant about the wrongs done to him. He just kept talking and planning over what their next move should be. And after 27 years in prison for committing no real crime he wanted no revenge. He didn’t want the leaders of the former government rounded up and jailed. He just wanted a new beginning. This is a man who suffered for the betterment of his people and sought no recognition. He sought only justice and peace.

What is suffering? What does it feel like? Will someone of my background ever really know? I want to understand what people who suffer go through. What was it like to be a Jew in Germany during World War II? What was it like to be hunted by your own countrymen in a genocidal war like that of Rwanda? What’s it like to be stripped of basic human rights based on the colour of your skin? Part of me feels like I’ve missed something by not suffering. I think we learn a great deal through our most painful times. If I had suffered I think I would have more wisdom, more passion, and more empathy. I guess I feel I would have more to offer had I suffered.