TIN - THIS IS NAMIBIA (yes, this is my life)

GLOW 2009

2009-09-20T05:18:00.000-07:00

Camp GLOW (Guys and Girls Leading Our World) 2009 is finally over! After all the stress and hardword that went into the weeklong event it was such a great success. I have tons of stories but for lack of time on a computer my planning co-chair Jill has updated our GLOW blog so check out the pics and stories at http://www.glownamibia.blogspot.com we were really lucky to have such an amazing group of Namibians this year, both learners and facilitators.

the circle of life....

2009-06-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

Outjo lost a great man this Thursday. Dr. Samuntu (Outjo Hospital's head doctor) passed away in a car accident outside Outjo. He was a great and knowledgeable doctor, a caring and loving husband and father and a kind soul. He will be deeply missed by all who knew him. My thoughts and prayers are with his wife and their children.

Also, our most recent VSO addition became a father today. His wife delivered a boy in India and will be joining us in Outjo in a few months. Congrats to the new family.

Outjo Book Project

2009-06-07T06:13:00.000-07:00

The first group of books are being delivered to schools in Outjo. A big thank you to all those who made this possible either by donating books or money for sending the books, Chenoweth Elementary School in Merced, CA and other family and friends from Merced, especially my mom and dad!

Jack Francis Primary School-742 books
Maraasen Primary School-301 books
Etoshapoort Junior Secondary School-245 books & magazines
Outjo Primary School-70 books
Lutheran Preschool-24 books
Hai//om Kindergarten-13 books
Other Preschool-10 books
TOTAL 1405

as of 6 June 2009

only more to come....again thanks to everyone for providing the learners in Outjo with reading material of all levels in English

dear May....

2009-05-31T06:20:00.000-07:00

Dear May,

Whoa, you are already over? What in the world happened during the last 31 days?

Missing time,
Dar

Dear Muggers,

Thank you for returning my passport. If you are feeling extra generous I would love my sleeping bag, eye glasses and backpack. Let’s be honest you have no real need for these items but they mean the world to me. Just throw anything you want to return over the police explosives unit fence, you know the place.

The girl from the B1,
AJ

Dear Capetownians,

You really saved our American butts in Fish River Canyon, thanks again,

New camping guru,
Dar

Dear Fish River baboons,

Please stop laughing at me. When I was lost and couldn’t find my friends and was maybe taking an animal trail rather than the normal path you just sat watching and mocking me, help a sister out, it’s 90km and I didn’t have a map. I didn’t appreciate being your daily entertainment in the canyon, just know what goes around comes around monkeys.

Made it through the canyon without your help,
Dar

What happens when you miss or are late to meetings…

2009-04-17T10:05:00.000-07:00

Within 24 hours I managed to miss two important meetings. One, I never knew I was suppose to attend the other I couldn’t get transport until two hours later so by the time I showed up I had missed two thirds of the meeting. During the second meeting the entire CACOC nominated me to go around to all the schools to inform learners about National HIV Testing Day and to help start up any HIV/AIDS awareness clubs, you know because I’m not busy enough already. The other meeting was with our hospital and no one told me about it but today I show up to work to not only find out about the meeting but also that I have been selected as the data analysis for National Testing Day statistics for our entire district. What the @$!# ?!? This is what happens when you are not there, you get the most insane and hardest jobs for whatever events and you can’t say no because you are the bottom fish in this ocean. Going to schools…eh whatever it’s annoying cause I have so much other stuff to do for National Testing Day but it’s something I really enjoy doing and I offered the Principals last year to help set up these clubs but I was assured they already existed and functioned perfectly. The data analysis?!? I have no epidemiology programs or tools so I can’t do what I want to do, instead it’s going to be making simple excel worksheets and charts, something that’s really easy but time consuming and sadly I’m one of the few at my hospital who can do it.

Ugh. How many more National/International/World _____ Day(s) do we have left until I leave in December?

Congrats OUTJO SUPPORT GROUP!!!

2009-04-17T10:03:00.000-07:00

The Outjo Support Group’s garden was one of 13 projects in Namibia to be chosen for a new hydro-cultivating (can’t think of the name) garden. Along with their regular garden the Support Group will be growing the same crops in little wooden basins filled with water, sand, sawdust and…..oh I can’t remember the fourth. They are trained by the Ministry of Water, Agriculture and Forestry on mixing the nutrient solutions, how far apart everything should grow, proper garden management and more. It’s really exciting because this is a huge thing in Namibia and the fact that Outjo got chosen even though it’s not the Regional Center is a big thing. MWAF said they were so impressed with their garden last year it seemed like the obvious choice for Kunene! Our garden is such a small area it’s great that we are learning new ways of planting so we can maximize our space. It’s really really exciting and I’m so proud of them and I know they are going to do amazing, congrats again Outjo Support Group!!!

Lessons learned after 17 months in Africa…

2009-03-31T06:42:00.000-07:00

1) Nothing is too rotten, moldy or disgusting when you are broke. Also if you’ve used a costly ingredient and the meal comes out bad/horrible, you eat it anyway.
2) I can change a flat/blown out tire on almost any terrain.
3) When you get a flat tire in a game park with a high lion population keep driving. It’s ok to ruin the rim rather than become a meal.
4) It’s worth the exercise to walk the long way on pavement rather than take the short cut in the bush and risk another encounter with a black mamba or any other snake in Namibia.
5) It’s all about how it looks. It doesn’t matter if your report is jiberish or your event is totally pointless if it looks nice and professional that’s all that matters. This is why we put official hospital stamps on EVERYTHING, including the envelope.
6) Corruption influences all people and you’ll be surprised by what people can be corrupted by, a t-shirt, cool drink, cell recharge?
7) Six large adults in a small sedan is considered a ride with room to spare.
8) Sometimes walking for three hours, washing all the clothes you brought to Africa or flossing is just something to keep you busy, no other purpose.
9) A mosquito net does more than protect from Malaria-more importantly it protects you from every other bug that will crawl/buzz around on you in the night and either bite or annoy the crap out of you.
10) Chocolate chips cookies can cure almost anything.
11) You’re eyes glaze over and you began to dream just like the locals when you talk about America, never mind it’s your home, now it’s only a magical place to believe in and hopefully visit.
12) An ink pen is worth getting in a fight over, especially after your first 10 go missing.
13) Better to not get harassed than to chance offending someone by not greeting a sketchy, drunk man as you pass by.
14) If you feel ugly just go walk around in the location and you’ll have at least 4 marriage proposals within 10 minutes, make the system work for you!
15) Words “Must” and “Now” and “Friend” will never have their simple meanings again.
16) I can accurately estimate when in the afternoon it will rain by the morning clouds.
17) Thou shouldn’t judge co-workers playing computer card games all day, give it a few months, you will be joining them.
18) If the locals warn you about lion/elephant or snake attacks you should listen and stay away from those places, there’s always truth to their warnings.
19) Sometimes baboons just don’t want to get out of the road no matter how many times you honk or threaten to run them over.
20) Although I work for the Ministry of Health I should not be surprised when I get dragged out of my office to attend an urgent Ministry of Agriculture, Water and Forestry meeting…didn’t even know we had that ministry in Outjo.
21) If it’s a perfect day outside you can expect the power to go out.
22) You’ll steal free wireless internet no matter where you can get it, it’s their fault for not locking their account.
23) Sometimes it’s worth buying less food and paying someone to clean your flat or do your laundry.
24) Ideas from the best intentions will probably fail.
25) Africa will win, it always does, don’t ever try to fight it just play along with it.

so long....

2009-03-30T01:04:00.001-07:00

Dear Summer and Rainy Season,

Goodbye. It's clear you have migrated elsewhere for awhile. I will see you again in November. You're mood swings this year were entertaining and you will be missed.

Longing for the green and the clouds again,
Dar

It’s just silliness really….

2009-03-23T07:35:00.000-07:00

The clouds returned today. I’m not sure why but their presence was so comforting, like a security blanket for me. We’ve been in the middle of rainy season for some time now and the rains have been harder than ever but then one day they just didn’t come. It’s not like it got less and less just one day Outjo didn’t have rain, worse-there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. A cloudless sky is always a sign of winter. It’s strange that the clouds completely disappear and all of the sudden the temperature starts to drop and you realize another season is coming. My time here is flying by. Already we are coming up on the end of March, it feels like it was just yesterday I said goodbye to California-that was almost 17 months ago. I can’t stop time, as hard as I try the weeks keep passing and I realize the end is near. Soon I will be saying goodbyes to the dear friends and co-workers I’ve made in Outjo not knowing if our paths will ever cross again. So back to today, the clouds returning makes me hopeful that winter is still off in the distance, that rainy season will last a little longer and that time in a sense will stand still or at least not go forward in my mind and I’ll have just a few more cloudy moments with Outjo.

SNAKES …. In Africa?

2009-03-23T07:34:00.000-07:00

In a past blog or email back home I remember referring to snakes as mythical creatures. Everyone in Outjo would warn me of the snakes and yet I NEVER saw one. Over a year in Namibia and no snake that hadn’t been beaten to death by a co-worker and then placed on a stick to chase me around the hospital, ugh memories, has come within 10 feet of me. Well this rainy/snake season has already gotten off to a great start. I was wrong, they do exist, they are real.

About a few weeks ago I was walking to work after my lunch break when I just stopped and held my breath. I couldn’t believe it, on a paved road in the middle of town a long black/gray snake crossed directly in front of me. Long after the snake climbed over the curb and back into the bush surrounding our hospital (yes this is hospital ground) I just stood frozen. No, no way, not a real snake, and black, geeze it could be anything. I tried to convince myself it was just a garden snake. I couldn’t grasp the reality that it was more likely a black spitting cobra or worse a black mamba, both seriously poisonous. Without thinking I just ran across the street and proceeded to the hospital on the other side of the road (yeah there’s no snakes over here right, it just crossed the road).

Well shortly after my “encounter” the hospital informed me that a worker plowing the bush in front of the hospital came across a black mamba and killed it. Holy heck. There is no doubt in my mind it was the same snake. I can’t believe a saw a black mamba only feet away, I’m still just in awe, I’m so lucky and now completely terrified to go anywhere in Outjo. I mean it’s one thing in the bush but on paved roads, in town, ugh, I’m not safe anywhere and in a country without proper anti-venom, I’m so screwed if I get bit. My coworkers said, “I told you, you must be careful of snakes”. I can’t believe I thought I could live in an Africa snake-free, I’m such a fool.

To really add insult to injury, a week after the mamba incident I was doing my normal Sunday morning run (all in town and on paved roads) when I for some reason looked down rather than straight ahead as I normally do just in time to watch my foot almost step on a curled up sleeping puff adder. I screamed and jumped over the snake (thought that would be better than waking up a poisonous snake). A mother and child walking towards me looked alarmed and I gasped, “Snake!”, they quickly crossed the road. In one month a run in with two of Namibia’s “fun” snakes, ugh, I’m so over this. I want to go back to my world where snakes didn’t run wild over the streets in Outjo, actually life in America where snakes are never really an issue for me is sounding oh so good.

dear ....

2009-03-23T07:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Sr. K.,

When you pulled my tank top out from under my blouse and told me I was fat because it was tight I got news for you, it’s suppose to be that way and I had many layers on that day, you should know since you were lifting them all up. The next day when you said, “oh, you eat very well” because I was wearing my fleece jacket also didn’t strike me the right way. Finally I dressed normally and you said, “You look ill”. I just want you to know my weight doesn’t fluctuate that much and that quickly-when I wear thick clothes I’m bound to look thicker but you need not worry about bringing that to my attention. Actually don’t ever mention my body shape again, I’m America, it starts to bother me, we have self-confidence issues.

Always the same underneath,
Dar

Dear lady down stairs,

When you slyly got me into your apartment and then ‘accidentally’ ran your hand from my back to my butt to show me the part of the dove (pigeon) that was white, you didn’t fool anyone. I see what you are doing and I just want to put it out there that I’m not interested, sorry.

Flattered,
Dar

Dear Power Outage,

It’s sunny outside, not a cloud in sight and it hasn’t rained in days, what the hell?

Annoyed,
Dar

Dear REI Sleeping Bag,

I love you. I’m sorry it’s been too hot for us to be together but now that the temperature is quickly dropping I’m glad we could rekindle our love. You are probably the greatest thing I brought to Namibia.

See you tonight love,
Dar

Dear Weather,

I get it winter is coming. Did you need to do it so quickly? Where’s the notice? I went to bed, woke up to go running to find I can see my breath. After running for 25 minutes I began to feel warm. It’s only March, give me a break.

Bitter-cold,
Dar

Dear Namibian Universal Health Care,

I love you and wish I could bring you home to America.

Healthy,
Dar

it's gone too far

2009-01-31T01:18:00.000-08:00

So in case you didn't know I'm having a war with Apple products in Namibia. I'm not winning by any means. The final attack happened this week as my new (just a year old) computer (which has already been to the shop like 6 times) died. Just died. For no reason. Just won't turn on. You win Apple, you win. I'm tired of trying to sell how great Apple products are to Namibians, you have now destroyed my hope and faith in Macintosh. I'm still in shock. It's ridiculous, I've done nothing in my past life to electronics or Apples to justfy this behavior. I'm a Peace Corps volunteer for goodness sakes, I'm trying to help fight poverty and AIDS, I'm a good person, what the hell?

Dear Macintosh,

You suck.

Seriously annoyed Peace Corps Volunteer,
Dar

favorite Obama related smses from coworkers...

2009-01-24T06:55:00.000-08:00

1. Amanda I trusted you. How could you do this to me? I thought you would keep the secret but now everyone knows that Obama is my uncle!

2. Obama won, you can come back to work now.

3. Today we learned what Obama actually means: O-Originally B-Born In A-Africa to M-Manage A-americans.

Very Namibian

2009-01-23T05:27:00.000-08:00

So I offer computer literacy/education for anyone who wants it. So far many people just talk about it and no one actually sits down for lessons, ok well one has. After I got a new computer everyone started asking about their lessons again. I responded, "Yeah I'm available you just tell me when you want to do it." After settling on a start date with one of my coworkers I asked ok, well what do you know how to do and what do you want to be able to do? His response, "I know how to turn my computer on and all I need or want to know is how do I open up the games and play cards." I'm sure I can teach you that and more but I was so surprised by your honesty. Thanks again friend and I hope I can continue to teach people I work with how to win at Free Cell (completely sarcastic).

The Return: Home sweet home!

2009-01-22T06:13:00.000-08:00

Who knew I'd be so happy to hear people talking in clicks, it's the greatest sound to me ears. I’ve been home for a week and gosh as if I needed to fall in love with Outjo all over again everyday has just reminded me why I’m so happy here. It’s rainy season and the idea of our new hospital (which is like 4 feet off the ground) flooding is really entertaining, my co-workers are taking photos. It is quite odd but then again Outjo is getting crazy rain this year so who knows what will happen. I just need to keep the rain out of my office because I have a brand new computer. The Spanish NGO, Medico del Mundo (which funds most of our HIV/AIDS projects) donated a brand new computer to my “department” so I can actually do the job I’m suppose to be doing rather than using spray paint and markers to make health education materials, thanks MDM! The rains also mean that Outjo is green, oh so beautiful. I had almost forgot that during rainy season it actually looks like what I had expected Africa to look like, lush green rolling hills, not the desert that it is. Sadly my walks have stopped as I have no desire to be bitten by a snake in a country that has like an indefinite back order for anti-venom, warning to all travelers : ) Yesterday I just ran in the puddles with the kids at the nearby school hostel, gosh I forgot how much fun that is. So vacation is over, work has started. Although I’m loving my new love affair with Outjo I’m forced to stay inside and make STD pamphlets from 8-5, eh, I guess I didn’t sign up for a two year vacation anyways, right?

African Overland Holiday...Part IV

2009-01-22T06:12:00.000-08:00

Conclusion: Zambia again “Problems? Eh bring ‘em on!”

As promised the “new” booking agent takes us across the border at 8am. We arrive to another empty bus and just sleep. Luckily we do have Zambian kwacha so we can get food at this border town. We know we have hours until we leave so we take our time cruising the strip (the only road) and making friends with volunteers from different countries who survived the ride from Dar last night. We wait until about 4pm and our bus finally takes off, the first of the fleet of buses heading to Lusaka. Our driver is awesome, fast but safe. He is however in a weird race for first to Lusaka, do they get medals for first of the day? It’s really odd that for being in such a rush he makes frequent long stops at every little village store we pass. The best was at one point another bus passes our parked bus while he’s enjoying a coke, he drops the coke and makes a mad dash for the bus. Everyone else runs on the bus because well we know he’d leave us if it meant coming in second.

Somewhere outside of Kapri Mposhi (sorry don’t have a travel book near me to check the spelling) we run out of gas. Yes, we had been driving for like 10 hours and no we never got gas but I guess the driver just thought we’d make it, silly. Everyone else (Zambians and my friends) are upset and outraged, I just laughed and used this non-moving time to sleep. I figured well someone will walk to get gas or we’ll just wait for the bus tomorrow to pass through, I mean really after everything we’d been through this was really “no problem.” We were after all still alive and safe so I could really care less. An hour or two later our bus was moving again. I can’t really say what happened as I was sleeping but we were just 200km away from Lusaka, I could almost taste the freedom (what am I talking about).

We had no other transport problems, we made it to Lusaka and I left my stuff with my friends and ran to get us tickets for the only reliable bus to Livingstone, it was leaving in 30 minutes, perfect. In Livingstone we found Intercape tickets back to Namibia. Originally I was going to free hike this, partly because I didn’t want to spend money for something I can do for free and because I like meeting people when you are hiking. After the last month I just dreamed of the Intercape that would take me back to Namibian soil where things don’t make sense most of the time and every car ride is a death sentence but it’s what I know. It’s where I feel comfortable to jump out of a car if it’s too dangerous or demand a driver to slow down. It’s home.

I literally kissed the ground when we crossed the border. I’m weird I know and really in all my travels I never thought I would end up feeling the way I felt after this trip. I mean I love to travel, I love it. But after this trip I just thought about returning to Outjo and never leaving until I return to America (not realistic at all, I have friends coming to visit in like three weeks). Maybe next time I’ll try booking one of those expensive, worry-free safari type of trips, maybe that’s the kind of travel I’m becoming.

African Overland Holiday...Part III

2009-01-22T05:39:00.000-08:00

Third Time’s a Charm: Tanzania – “Hakuna Matata”

We are walking through all the money exchangers, hoping to catch a glimpse of this bus. The sun has set and it’s getting dark quicker than we were expecting. Finally the booking agent points, ah see there it is. Well, he was right, it was there waiting for us just as he had promised, no problem, no problem. As we approach I begin asking, “where are all the people and when is it leaving?” The agent kinda avoids the questions and leads us on the minibus, the empty minibus. Wait, when is this leaving? The agent chuckles, “Oh, no buses are not allowed to drive at night in Tanzania, this bus isn’t leaving until the morning.” What? Morning? It’s 7:30pm, you’ve got to be kidding me! So, where are we supposed to sleep or stay until it leaves? The driver points to the bus (like a game show presenter), “here, this is where you can sleep, no problem, no problem.” Oh, sir we have a very big problem.

It’s pitch dark outside and to make it even darker there is no electricity in the village tonight. Everyone watched the white people walk on this bus and have begun to gather to “visit” with us. As we are trying to explain to the agent how we CANNOT possibly stay here, men a jumping on the bus to proclaim their love for us, others are trying to sell random goods, ugh, this is kinda a nightmare (still thousand times better than if we hadn’t crossed the border). Smash tries to explain how it’s not safe for us to stay here, the agent returns with an 80 year old security guard who can barely see. The guard waves and points to the darken shack he’ll be sitting at; this doesn’t make any of us feel better.

After awhile the agent shares that there are some other accommodations available. JNaw and myself go and check out these accommodations and well lets be honest anything was better than the unsafe minibus. Happily we give our 2USD each for our rooms and with no money, nothing to eat except some old moldy-ant infested bread (not kidding) and peanut butter we decide it’s best to just take a shower and go to bed, this day is finally over and we are still alive. At this point we are certain we won’t make it to the airport to meet our friend but there’s not much we can do. We have NO money, local currency or other and we’ve already paid for our tickets so we just have to take the ride and pray we’ll get there.

The minibus doesn’t leave until 10 or so, it’s a 14-hour bus ride so it’s confirmed, we are not making it to the airport. The first two hours of our trip the driver doesn’t go past 40kph, seriously. At this rate we will never get to Dar. Once we finally arrive in Mbeya the driver and another guy begin to argue. The guy jumps into the bus and takes the keys out and runs off, of course, it’s kinda expected at this point. An hour later the guy returns, he’s now our driver and we continue with our trip. This guy is determined to make up for lost time and we are flying through Tanzania, we might just make it to Dar after all.

The scenery is amazing. Classic Africa and like Namibia each turn or hill provides another completely different view. As we are going through this wonderful canyon I can’t help but think gosh I’m glad I didn’t fly over all this. But, somewhere along the trip our fast but sensible driver disappears and we are left another reckless trip. I mean we are in a canyon, cliffs on both sides of the road and this man decides that passing 3 semi-trucks in a row on a turn is a great idea. As the hours pass it only gets worse. I luckily can’t see anything because so many extra people have got on our bus that I have two ladies kinda on my lap and a man’s behind next to my face, nope can’t see the road that’s for sure. Smash is right behind the driver and doesn’t have the blind is bliss opportunity that I have. I begin to attempt to just close my eyes but moments later we are air born. Beads yells “Well now we know what happens when we don’t slow down.” The Tanzanian roads are filled with speed bumps in and out of each village and our driver normally slams on his brakes to slow in time but not this time. Mach and I are just looking at each other in shock (both of us had our eyes closed) and sure enough we are in the air again, wow, this is just getting better and better. I look over at Smash and she’s in tears and JNaw is beside her and trying to comfort her but she’s frightened too. I put on worship music on my ipod and decide I will spend the next 3 hours in prayer, literally.

Somehow we arrive to Dar es Salaam, or at least the outskirts. We jump out of the bus when our new friend (guy sitting next to Beads during the trip) tells us to hoping he’s correct. We negotiate a taxi to the airport. At this time it’s around midnight but we figure maybe our friend either hasn’t got in yet or is just getting through customs and waiting for us. There are two people at the airport besides security, neither is our friend. We negotiate another trip with the same taxi driver to the YMCA. In case she’s following the itinerary I sent her she should think that’s where we are staying. We get to the YMCA and the guard not only won’t let us in (who can blame him it’s 1:30am roughly) but he is not really trying to help us out, like talking to us, just kind of shrugs. Well since there is nothing to do this early in the morning we ask the driver to take us to Safari Inn, we know it’s open late and we are praying they have rooms, which they do. When we get out the driver now has increased his price by 20,000 shilling, roughly 20USD. So yet another argument begins between us and someone dealing with transportation. The security guard for Safari Inn is trying to help us but really he’s not. To be honest I figure we will have to pay close to his ridiculous amount because although we agreed on a price (with a language barrier) if he’d left us at the YMCA or the airport we’d have to pay even more to get here. I lower him just a little and we all agree and I just want to sleep so I pay him and we’re off to our beds. Mach and I have an early morning ahead of us as we search for her friend.

At 8am Mach goes to check her email. Her friend is here, waiting at YMCA and terrified (wouldn’t you be if you just arrived in Africa and no one was there to meet you). We get a taxi and rush over there, Mach is crying and the driver keeps saying “no problem, no problem”, I try explaining to him what that phrase means to us by now and he’s not helping. We get to the YMCA find J and I just stand around for a few minutes as J and Mach have a very tearful reunion (what’s with our trip at tears?). We all head back to Safari Inn for breakfast and to plan what to do next.

It’s unanimous that we will be taking the slow ferry to Zanzibar. Our nice taxi driver from before walks us to the ferry and gets us VIP seats at no extra cost to us, such a nice man. We board the ferry unsure what VIP actually means in Africa. We board the ferry and make our way through the many, many people to the VIP section, just as crowded and a lot stuffier. The VIP section is suppose to have air conditioning I guess (doesn’t really work) and no windows that open, ugh it’s not great at all. As soon as the boat leaves the dock we realize the extra 15USD would have been worth it. This slow ferry feels every wave that hits it and I am overcome by extreme seasickness, we all are. J passes out some Dramamine and I pass out. Each time I attempt to wake up/get up I’m sick again so I just sleep through our entire trip. The slow ferry luckily isn’t too slow and we arrive at Zanzibar in three hours.

After the chaos of getting our bags going through customs (weird I thought we were still in Tanzania) we walk to where the “cheap” accommodations are, street touts have decided to accompany us for this journey, yea! Starving we settle in our rooms and immediately head out to look for food, a lot of food at that (we really haven’t eaten more than pieces of toast in days). We attempt to go to Mercury’s but they won’t serve food until 7, it’s 5pm…we continue looking. Finally we find this great place that has decent food for a good price and we pig out.

The next day we go on a classic Zanzibar Spice Tour. It was actually really cool. You get to see some of the island and learn a lot about spices and herbs that well I would have never really cared about but was glad to have been there. The best part about the Spice Tour was eating all the native fruits; they were DELICIOUS and well worth our 12USD. After a traditional lunch (was I eating tree bark in my rice?) we headed to a beach north of Stonetown to relax. Wow, the water was so clear that I could see 10 feet below me. The reef was amazing and home to such beautiful fish. It was exactly what I thought Zanzibar was going to be, white sand and crystal clear waters; I was finally on vacation.

That evening once we had returned some when to explore the town. Smash and I relaxed, did some laundry and did a casual stroll around the outskirts of town finding the best gelato on the island (we did check other places before arriving at this decision). We were really enjoying our peaceful afternoon stroll with ice cream, Internet and Obama sightings (his face and name are on everything). (We walked to dinner and for personal reasons I won’t go into detail but after this moment the trip/day went horrible. I won’t try to explain/justify or understand but needless to say that our entire group had a culture misunderstanding/lesson that we will never forget and unfortunately has not been forgiven.) We ate at Mercury’s whose food is sub par and atmosphere could not uplift our shaken attitudes.

The next day we got on a dalla dalla to a beach on the south eastern coast of the island called Jambiani. Dalla dallas are an amazing local experience and when in Tanzania I recommend everyone ride at least one way to their destination in one. We arrived in Jambiani without reservations on New Years Eve and decided to start at the south end of the village and just go to each accommodation and pray there is some vacancy, if not we have tents and there is lots of beach. The first five places led us to believe it was hopeless cause but a nice man pointed us to an inn that he figured would be the only place with any vacancy. It was our lucky day and I’m not sure if they actually had room but they gave us two, sorry if we took someone’s reservation. This place was perfect, cheaper than we expected and right on the beach. The only downfall would be no fresh water but we were only staying there for few days and who needs a shower when you have the ocean at your door?

I convince Beads and Smash to walk with me out to the water, its low tide so the water is like almost a mile off shore. As we are walking we realize we are not getting anywhere closer to the water yet farther away from the shore, ok it was a little farther than we all thought. Once we arrived at the water like 45 minutes later we thought it best to start heading back in case the tide comes it we don’t want to be way out here. Walking back took some skill and determination. The muddy reef like ground made it difficult to pick your feet up. Smash and I decided to go bare foot cause our flip flop straps had made our feet bleed with the many hard attempts to pull our feet out of the earth. After walking barefoot for a while Smash starts saying how her feet are really painful. I didn’t want to mention it but I was constantly stepping on something sharp. We couldn’t see anything in the mud so we kept walking. Finally it was unbearable and I start searching in the mud and find little starfish which I thought were cute until I realized that’s what we were stepping on. We didn’t have a choice but to continue to the island so we kept walking. As if Smash couldn’t regret this walk anymore we come across a large family of sea urchins. We had to make our way through the maze of sea urchins back to shore, and we did, just as the tide came in.

New Years we went to a hotel having a seafood buffet and once again made a fool of ourselves by stacking our plates, shoveling food into our mouths only to get stuffed in two minutes, so sad really. Beads, Smash and Mach stayed for the countdown but the rest of us walked home to hit the sack, tomorrow we had an early call time.

Swimming with the dolphins sounded like a great idea. Even after all I had read about how tourism has terrorized the dolphins on the southern tip of Zanzibar (yeah, I’m sure terrorized is the appropriate word) when asked if I wanted to go, I didn’t hesitate, of course. Early in the morning we headed to the southern tip to catch a motorboat to the dolphin conservatory offshore. We approach an area that already has five or so boats and we stop. Our guide informs us that there are dolphins around here. “When I see a dolphin I will get close and when I yell ‘Go” you jump in.” Unsure what he meant we agreed.

Dolphins. Our boat pulls to kind of cut the dolphin’s path and our guide yells, “Go, go, go!” Without even thinking I (ungracefully) fall into the water with my snorkel around my forehead. Beads is in with me and both of us are still unsure what we are in fact suppose to be doing. J jumps in with Mach’s chitange (cloth wrap) around her face and Mach goes in with her clothes on, we were all a little caught off guard. I fix my goggles and go under, dolphins. There were six of them at least, bigger than what I was prepared for. I attempted to swim above them as they dove deeper and deeper until I had lost sight of them. Above water the guide was yelling at us to jump back in the boat.

We get in (not quickly as it requires some skill to climb a ladder with fins) and wait to see another fin emerge from the water. In time it does and once again we are chasing after the dolphins. This time they are staying closer to the surface. Before the boat even stops I’m in the water. Beads is debating what to do when the guide yells, “Go, go, go!” Beads looks at him, “On top of them?” Yes, if we all did as our guide wanted we would be literally jumping on top of the dolphins, luckily some part in our brains was still working and none of us did it. This second jump was by far the best. I was able to swim next to wild dolphins for a good moment in time. At one point I come up for air at the same moment all 6-10 of them come up for air. I was literally an arms length away and when I realized this I was overcome with fear. What am I doing this close to a wild animal, even if it’s a dolphin, this doesn’t seem smart. Rather than try to grab on to the dolphins as our guide would like us to do I just sit there starring at them, wow, amazing. I’m not sure what I was thinking a dolphin looked like but from that distance I was just amazed. I was only distracted when I looked up and noticed another boat taking photos of the dolphins and me, haha I had to pose right? We (the dolphins and I) dive back into the water and I swim with them until they were out of sight again. I realize only now that I’m further from the boats than I expected. The swimmer in me kicked as hard as I could to keep up with the dolphins forgetting all else. When the boat gets me I once again ungracefully board. The guide tells me “Oh, you are a fast one, you swim with the dolphins.” Is this what they meant my swimming? Ok. J and Beads are discussing the large amount of jellyfish they saw on the last jump. Great, now instead of the dolphins on my mind I’m going to be thinking about jellyfish. We go for 1.5 more jumps, the .5 alluding to the time our guide yelled go and only J jumped in the water (I wasn’t jumping in if I didn’t at least see a fin). The last jump I have one eye on the dolphins and one eye on the water ahead of me, scanning for jellyfish. Although I once again “swam” with the dolphins I couldn’t enjoy it as I was more afraid of getting stung.

We start the trip back to the island, seasickness now overcoming all of us. When we get close to shore the boat stops and we go snorkeling for not nearly as long and we would’ve liked. I still can’t believe how clear the water was and that even in low tide there was such an abundance of things to see. I had two favorites, one the huge bright blue starfish, they were real cool and the second were these thin fish that looked like eels but super thin. These fish were hard to see, as they were kinda transparent or like a light blue but they were paper-thin. I kept trying to show Mach but there would never be anything there when she looked. Beads finally saw some so at least I know I wasn’t crazy.

That night we went to a near by place that we knew had cheap and delicious pasta. We ordered and expected a long wait even though we were the restaurants only customers (probably all day). Two hours later our food finally arrives, I’m not making this up. We think they had to go and buy the food and then find some women to cook the food. I’m guessing this is pretty accurate based on the fact that these new women were all of the sudden in the kitchen and our food came shortly after. JNaw is served chicken and chips, she is served an entire chicken, like with the head still attached. I can’t go into details about what happened next just that it was the funniest dinner we had the entire trip, Beads and I were crying for at least 15 minutes we were laughing so hard. It’s safe to say that all our cultural appropriateness that we’ve learned after being in Africa for a year when right out the window, it was a bad day for Americans, but it was hilarious.

The next day we waited for the dalla dalla and half the village’s children sat beside us. This little boy kept rubbing his penis and trying to touch Beads, without really knowing that others might not want to touch his hands. Beads finally turns to the kid (who knows no English) and says, “no I don’t want your penis hands rubbing me.” Haha, we had a lot of good one-liners on this trip.

Back in Stonetown we get ferry tickets, the fast ferry this time and go to the best gelato place to eat. I pigged out and it was totally worth the money I spent! We ran into other PCVs from our group who were doing the same trip as us, more or less and they had decided to fly back to Namibia. They had just as difficult of a journey getting to Tanzania and had no intention of seeing what the return trip offered. I went to the internet café and checked what tickets were that day and well I couldn’t part with 700USD or N$7000 (that’s more than I make in a quarter pay period) so return trip here we come.

When we arrived in Dar we checked into the YMCA and four of us attempted to find tickets to Lusaka. We had decided to cut our trip short and rather than heading north to Arusha the next day just decided to get home. Scandinavian Express sadly no longer went to Lusaka (it was the only bus company I trusted in Tanzania) so we went to the Ubongo bus station to see what we could find. Just as expected it was chaos and some booker gave us tickets even though I had a sense of de javu I knew we had to get out of Tanzania somehow.

The morning we were leaving the YMCA we had all forgot to tell reception that we would be leaving at 6am, oops. I jumped the fence/stair case and went to get the guard. He seemed very surprise to see me. After getting the rest of my friends out and into a taxi, we were a little snug in one, we headed to the bus station. Our taxi driver was really kind and tried to help us find our bus or the bus that would be taking us since our bus wasn’t actually showing up today, naturally. We got on the bus and prayed it would leave semi-on time, not kill us and somehow get us to the Zambia border. Most of the ride was fine. He was a fast driver but not crazy or reckless. We seemed to be making good time and might even make it to the border before it closes, I didn’t want to think about what happened if we didn’t make it again. This driver although safer did not have the keen knowledge about where each pot hole was on Tanzanian roads as our other one did, it was well a bumpy ride.

10-12 hours later we arrive in Mbeya. Whew, the hard part of the journey is done. We just had like 200km to go and it was still early, this was all very promising. After taking the scenic tour through Mbeya and stopping every few seconds we depart Mbeya as the sun has set, ok, don’t freak out yet, you are still ok. This is when the driver becomes another person, another person that I fear I’ve seen just days before, a crazy, reckless Tanzanian driver. He’s booking it, I mean I have no doubt the border will still be open at the rate he’s going. He’s trying to be the first bus from Dar to reach the border (there’s like 14 other buses he’s competing with). We come to a part in the road where six or so semi-trucks are pulled over on the side of the road, weird, but they all are waving us by so without breaking we continue on. BREAKS!!!! A semi-truck is flipped on its side in the middle of the road. Blocking both lanes and well there’s no shoulder. At one side of the road is a cliff, a big one and the other side is a mountain. Without even asking if people want to get out or plummet to their death the driver decides to driver around the truck. People are on the cliff throwing rocks under our tires and attempting to give us something to drive on. Holy crap. If we would have had a second to think I would have been out the window in no time. Instead the entire bus jumps to the driver’s side so that we don’t tumble down the cliff. Beads and Smash figured if they were going to die they’d want to see it so they looked down the cliff as we pass. Tires slipping. I’m sweating profusely just now recalling the story. I grab JNaw’s arm as if I could pull her higher on my side of the bus and that would prevent us from falling. We hold our breath and the 10-20 second nightmare is over. We made it. The only other driver to get around that truck jumps out and gives our driver a high-five. All of us settle back into our seats, speechless and just look at each other. Did that really just happen? Then all the stuff we had wanted to say in those 20 or so seconds just comes out and we are all in shock that we just survived that. I mean it was “seeing your life face before your eyes” close to death. Holy crap. For the remainder of our travel to the border I’m basically in tears. Not only is he now driving reckless I know how far he will go to get us to our destination (dead or alive?) and that terrifies me. I just spend the rest of the time in prayer and silent tears. I want to go home, I want Namibia.

We get to the border, shocker it’s closed. We are once again fighting off taxi drivers (not sure where they think they’ll be driving us to) while wadding through the mud, did I mention it’s still rainy season. Finally the “new” booking agent asks us what kind of accommodation do we want him to find us. We all yell “CHEAP.” He shows us the cheapest place that has room, luckily, only we don’t have enough money, haha. We thought we were going to be on a bus traveling thru Zambia at this moment we had very little shilling left. We scramble, count coins and realize we have barely enough, if they give us a nice discount. They do and so we finally have a bed, no shower, no water, no food and a squatty potty, oh Namibia how I miss thee. I fall asleep to the office on my ipod, dreaming of simpler times. Times where all I wanted to do was to be a doctor-in America, ugh that seems so far away from where I am in this crap border town hotel room. Well at least I know I’m crossing the border in the morning and Zambia is a country I understand and am ready for, and it’s the last stop until I’m home.

Transportation Summary: anyone jealous of this?

2009-01-18T11:58:00.000-08:00

Bus: 9
Rundu to Livingstone
Livingstone to Lusaka
Lusaka to Chipata
Dwangwe to Nkata Bay
Nkata Bay to Mzuzu
Dar es Salaam to Tanzanian border
Zambian border to Lusaka
Lusaka to Livingstone
Livingstone to Rundu

Taxis: who's to say really?
Around Lusaka
Chipata to Zambian border
Malwaian border to Mchinji
Ubongo bus station to Dar airport, to YMCA to Safari Inn
Around Dar es Salaam
YMCA to Ubongo bus station

Minibus: 3
Mchinji to Lilongwe
Salima to Nkotakota
Tanzanian border to Dar es Salaam

Minivan/combi: 6
Lilongwe to Salima
Salima to Senga Bay
Senga Bay to Salima
Nkotakota to Dwangwe
Mzuzu to Karonga to Malawian border
Zanzibar spice tour

Dalla dalla: 2
Stonestown to Jambiani
Jambian to Stonestown

Ferry: 2
Dar es Salaam to Stonestown
Stonestown to Dar es Salaam

Bicycle Taxi: 2
Around Salima
Around Mzuzu

African Overland Holiday...Part II

2009-01-18T11:53:00.000-08:00

Round Two: Malawi - “No problem, no problem”

Things were off to a great start. At the border a nice gentleman helps us out with quick conversion rates between Zambia, Malawi, the USD and the South African Rand (yes, this trip was confusing 98% of the time). His name, Happy. Happy was very helpful and got a taxi with us at the border to Mchinji. It was nice traveling with Happy because no one tried to charge us more than what was the normal price because he knew better. Happy also got us on a mini bus to Lilongwe and once there asked the driver’s assistant to get us to the minibuses to Salima. This would be the nicest thing a stranger could do for us, as the Lilongwe bus “area” is chaos. Actually the Lilongwe bus “area” was about the size of a small Namibian city, completely foreign, no signs saying were to go just lots of buses and people. We get out and someone unzips my bag but Beads was there to slap their hand away and then we being our walk through the maze as everyone is starring at us, we are a little uncomfortable. Luckily the driver’s assistant gets us to a mini bus that’s almost full so we load up (incredibly uncomfortable-physically) and wait to leave. The few minutes we are waiting there Mach catches a guy slyly sneaking his hand into a Malawian’s purse as he distracts her with the blankets he’s selling. Yeah, my purse is moved to under my butt and my window is closed, oh Africa.

The drive to Salima is beautiful. Actually all the drives in Malawi are beautiful. It’s such a lush and green country with mountains, plateaus, farm areas; you can’t help but think it’s gorgeous, especially after spending a year in the desert savannahs of Namibia. When I first began planning our trip I was confused as to why Lonely Planet said it took so long to travel such short distances in Malawi, this mini bus explained it all. The speed limit in Malawi is 80kph (Namibia is 120kph) yet we were only at best going 60 and we HAD to stop at each village along the way. After reaching Salima, jumping on a bicycle taxi to find an ATM so we can finally have Malawian kwacha we are good to go. We got the first van (Namibian combi) we could find going to Senga Bay, twenty minutes later we had arrived. Side note: bicycle taxis…wow, fun yet a little terrifying. I’ve traveled everyway one can in Malawi!

When you pull up to Senga Bay it’s not the quintessential lake resort. I mean it’s a small, small village and not impressive and you can’t even see the lake. I honestly thought there was some mistake. Some of the locals convinced us to head over the Cool Runnings as the other places would be too expensive or too far, as it turns out they were right and we made camp (after and silly argument with the only other people camping over location, silliness really) at Cool Runnings. The weather during that time in December was not the best. Luckily it only rained during the night, we learned that our tents were not longer waterproof (the hard way) and the day lacked enough sun to actually make the water clear enough to see fish one foot from the surface of the water. We were a little disappointed but made the most of our time there touring the village for fresh fruits and vegetables, swimming out to fisherman’s boats, reading and eating the delicious (yet expensive) food served up at Cool Runnings.

One day we arranged for a trip to an island a mile off the shore to few the monitor lizards with the locals who had helped us find Cool Runnings. The water was a little choppy (not really) but JNaw had developed a newfound irrational fear of water (after the rafting incident) and began to freak out as we traveled to the island. I assured her that we were fine and if anything did happen I was a lifeguard and would swim her to shore, nothing helped and she continued to yell each time a wave touched the boat. The rest of us couldn’t help but laugh; we had no idea what the heck was going on. JNaw had grown up in Michigan, on lakes, this was a little funny. On the island we walked up, down and around. It was amazing and fun (for those of us with shoes on), totally different than the main land. When we finally saw one of these monitor lizards we all couldn’t help but laugh, the foot long lizard was nothing spectacular, oh well at least we were doing something.

A few days later Smash was set to meet us in Salima, having traveled from Livingstone by herself to meet us in time for Christmas (Zambia and Malawi were not as kind to her in the 24hours she had crossed both countries alone, she made great timing but had to sacrifice so much). I left Senga Bay hours before everyone else just in case she had good luck with rides, I didn’t want her to arrive in Salima and be alone. Good thing, as I get out of the van and white arm hanging out of another van passes and I yell “Smash!” after a tearful reunion we sit and wait for the others to show up hours later.

The five of us finally all together decide to take the local Axa bus to Nkata Bay, it leaves at like 10pm and arrives at 4am but we are hopeful. After sitting there for awhile and wondering if there will be any room on this bus a man kindly offers to take us to Nkotakota, half way to Nkata Bay, not knowing any different we take it. We probably pay double what you should but we feel good about our decision because we have a seat and we will have a place to stay tonight, not on a bus, and it’s JNaw’s birthday. In Nkotakota we go to the only place recommended by Lonely Planet (not sure if they ever visited this place and if so it’s been years ago). Another side note, this is when we no longer trust Lonely Planet, they’ve gotten everything wrong in Zambia and Malawi and we’re done with it for the rest of our time in Malawi, locals advice only, yeah, we are real trusting/stupid. JNaw and I get a room, splurging for her birthday. Our room is well, special. Our visitors are cockroaches, spiders and other things. The bed nets have holes so large a small child could get in and the bathroom doorframe was so low I couldn’t help but painfully smack my head into it twice (JNaw once). This was high class. The “restaurant” had a strong Mexican fiesta theme meets the Serengeti, it was also high class and the food was nothing to write home about. JNaw celebrated the day of her birth with a Sprite, the food looked that enticing (I’m a little sarcastic if you didn’t know).

The next morning we began our kilometer walk to the main road to get a bus to Nkata Bay. This guy Stephen I guess had found out where we were heading from a morning conversation with Beads and showed up on our walk with a van offering to drive us to Nkata Bay within the hour. It was really difficult for all of us to decide what to do, it was a legit van with a legit driver and we would probably find him on the main road had we made it there but the fact that he came looking for us made us skeptical. After getting him down to a price that seemed semi-acceptable to us we agree and load up. In the van (which was standing room only, seriously a 15 passenger van was holding 25-30 “easily” at any given moment) told Mach and I that there was no way this van was going to Nkata Bay. He said the driver isn’t allowed to go past a certain point and well he’s not going to Nkata Bay. Awesome. Mach and I prepare for what’s ahead. In the first town we get to (a third of the way to Nkata Bay) Stephen tells us “the breaks are bad and we must take it into the garage, so we can’t take you the whole way.” Hm, well ok, the breaks were fine for stopping us from ridiculously fast speeds to get people along the way, but whatever, kindly give us our money back and we will find other transportation. “Oh, no problem, no problem, see I gave you a large discount and that’s how much it actually costs to here, so I cannot give your money back, “ declares Stephen. “Oh no, no, no Stephen, there is a big problem,” declares the rest of us.

For about 45 minutes we have a heated discussion about returning our money. Stephens first offer of returning like a fifth of what we paid to him to take us a third of the way was unacceptable to us. I got a map out showed him how far we went and showed him the math and showed him the amount of money we WOULD be receiving back from him. Logic was lost on him so we tried another tactic, we refused to get out of the van. After awhile he came back ready for round 18 of negotiations. I simply stated that we would require said amount back or we will not be leaving. He kept trying to say we must come to a fair price and I kept saying, “sir, this is fair, why are you trying to steal from us, that is not right, it is very wrong.” There were many, many more silly debates on right and wrong, good business, the breaks, etc. We were not getting anywhere so I had to pull the J-card, “Sir, it is the season of Jesus are you are trying to steal from us. How can you do such a thing? Jesus and Allah (in case he was Muslim) are watching and they are not happy, you are not right and you know it.” Stephen looked at me and chuckled and left the car. My friends just laughed and said I can’t believe you just said that, what? It’s a Christian country isn’t it? After sometime Stephen returns with said amount and we gladly get out of the car which is now surrounded by minivan drivers, ugh. We run across the street and decide to wait for the Axa bus no matter how long it takes. Magically all the minivans seem to all be going to Nkata Bay as they all change their windshield signs to say so, uh-uh, not falling for it.

Luckily waiting for the Axa bus turned out to be shorter than we expected as it came two hours early. We jump on (not caring that we have no seats) and happily pay the extremely low price the Axa charges. On the bus we meet a Zimbabwean who runs the information center in Nkata Bay. He hooks us up with a free taxi to his recommended lodge (it was one of two places I had already decided we would stay at) and we once again set up camp. Thrilled to have this day over we just enjoy the lake, finally. We’ve made it to Nkata Bay, together and healthy, who cares about all the rest.

We make new friends with the staff and Happy Coconut and Sober, two local artists who sell their paintings at the shore, oh good times. Sometimes when we tell each other our stories of our travels we think “that’s not real”, but then we have to laugh cause really most of this a person could not make up, it’s so absurd it can only be true. So Happy Coconut wins for our favorite African name, mind you we have real friends named Speechless and Somebody in Namibia, but Happy Coconut? Awesome!

Christmas Eve we walk into town (which is not an easy walk, Nkata Bay is spread out and really hilly), use the Internet (to feel normal) and eat a buffet at Njaya (where we are staying) while enjoying a local performance of drums and dancing. Really, watching five starving Peace Corps volunteers at a buffet is probably the most disgusting animalistic display but we don’t care and just go for it. After like three minutes we can’t eat anymore, our stomachs have shrunk from the lack of food. One of the workers comes by and asks if we surrender. What? Do you surrender? Yes, we all agree, we surrender, he then grabs Mach’s goat and says, “I never surrender goat!” It was hilarious.

That night was hard. It was Christmas Eve and we were so far from home, from anything resembling home, with stomach problems that wouldn’t leave us until we returned to Namibia and as the rain began to fall I thought, ugh, I should be in Merced (my California home), in a nice bed, in a warm house-without a care in the world, this was really a different Christmas.

Christmas day we walked around with everyone else saying “Happy Christmas” to each person we saw. We walked over to Mayoka Village for their Christmas games and buffet. I went swimming and made friends with some volunteers from Norway as we sat on a jumping dock off shore. After playing some silly board games with each other dinner was served. Once again we were the first in the line, stacked our plates sky high, began to shovel it into our mouths and only ate a little, so disappointing. That evening we got a special Christmas present as our families called us, oh a moment of normalcy.

The next morning we took our time and packed up our stuff to head to Mzuzu to catch the bus heading to Dar es Salaam. The walk from Njaya to the village center at noon was NOT EASY. I thought I was hiking the Rockies, in India or something similar. My face is so sweaty that my glasses won’t stay on my face so I do it without being able to see…anything. As we get into town I see an Axa bus, drop my stuff, tell Smash to watch it and run to the bus. It’s going to Mzuzu, half the price the minivans are charging, yes, something is going our way! Although we have to stand for a good portion of this ride it’s totally worth it to not mess with anyone trying to take our money or whatever. The Axa will get you to your destination, somehow and for a discounted price and that’s all we needed.

The Mzuzu bus station is bigger than Salima’s but like 1/20 of Lilongwe so we are really relieved. Bicycle taxi again to get money to by our tickets to Dar, which luckily there is a bus coming that night. The bus is set to get there at 12:30am and arrive in Dar es Salaam midnight the next night. Ugh, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there but we’d rather get on the road as we were set to meet Mach’s friend at the Dar airport in a few days and did not want to be late. It begins to get late and there are some really classy people in this bus station. We finally wise up and move from the waiting area of the bus station (in the middle of the bus station) to against the booking office (elevated position), we are not alone in waiting so we are hopeful.

10pm everyone begins to fall asleep except me. I’ve volunteered to watch us and our stuff (not really volunteered but decided to since everyone else was asleep and we were after all in a dim lit African bus station). The others slept as much as they could between the interruptions of drunken men yelling “SISTER, SITER” at Smash trying to confess their love for her. How did she always get picked I still have no idea. At 1am I became delirious, but still awake. At 4am I asked Beads to watch our stuff (he fell asleep) and I knocked out until 5:30am when the sun came up and the bus station was open for business again and crawling with people. The booking office assured us the bus was on it’s way. We had already paid, really what could we do but wait. “The bus will be here at 10,” “12”, “ok, it hasn’t left Lilongwe yet.” At this point we are negotiating a refund and looking for other ways to get there.

The booking office assured us that they would get us to Dar es Salaam, and well at this point we shouldn’t trust ANYONE but we do just for entertainment almost. So after an argument, JNaw and myself wanted to take the money and find our own way but Beads trusted the booking company we follow, what the hell do we have to lose anyway, right? The pile us and a nice Malawian family (father works as teacher in Tanzania) in a minivan and we head to the border. We have to get to the border before it closes where a bus is “for sure” waiting for us to take us to Dar. No, problem, no problem, everyone assures us there is no problem. Clearly, there is always a problem when people say this to us.

The ride to the border is by far the most beautiful piece of land we’ve driven through yet. We are travel through a gorgeous mountain rain that butts up against the lake, it’s breathe taking, but I’ve lost my breathe for another reason, we are going to die. Our minibus driver was driving safe and just doing fine, I mean we were making good timing, we only had like an hour or so left until Karonga (I’m great with geography and maps) and he decides to become reckless. He’s driving insanely fast, yes we are still in the mountains, passing on turns, I’m in shock. When the roads levels around Livingstonia he speeds up as if he’s trying to hit all the village people going about their daily life. At this point I can’t take it and I begin telling him to slow down, I’m on the verge of tears. Finally I tell the booking agent who’s accompanying us that either he tells the driver to slow down or I get out and he gives me my money back. The driver reluctantly slows down, a little.

At the first chance JNaw and I switch seats so I can’t see the road, she knows I can’t handle reckless driving; I lose it regularly in Namibia. She begins to tell the driver to slow down. It’s getting old. There is no reason for him to be driving like this, we have enough time and no one wants to die. Eventually he listens to the booking agent and slows down, we’ve arrived in Karonga. Karonga is 45km from the border so all of us are confused when we pull into the bus depot rather than continuing to the border, oh no problem, no problem.

We sit in the bus depot for about 20 minutes, that’s 20 minutes we really don’t have to spare; the border is closing. The problem is I guess the driver agreed to drive all of us for 1000MK (Malawian kwacha). When we arrived in Karonga and other drivers saw that there was Mzungus (white people/foreign people) they decided 1000MK wasn’t enough and convinced the driver not to take us. After some arguing, even the teacher with us is getting angry, we drive off. We drive off to around the corner to a petrol station where we pull off and the driver and the booking agent begin yelling at each other. Eight taxi drivers surround our minivan, crap, there’s no way out. Our problem is that we gave our money to the booking agent and he’s getting us to Dar, we have no money and no room for negotiation and we can’t go anywhere without that guy. Taxi drivers are trying to convince us to get out, pointless really. They begin taking our bags so we fight for them back. As many times as we explained we have no money, that booking agent is paying for us, they didn’t understand. At this point we are more scared for our safety than the border closing. At one point the driver tries to drive off without our booking agent, as if he could drive us somewhere between here and the border and either demand the money from us or take our stuff. Luckily I was kinda out of the car already cause JNaw saw they were trapping us in the car and she pushed me out my door although it didn’t really open. So I’m standing half in and half out of the car as the driver takes off. Everyone starts yelling and the taxi drivers try to push me in the car and I hit the driver (I was behind him) and stay firmly out of the minivan (thank goodness I’m not a small girl or those taxi drivers could have successfully pushed me back in the van). After about 30 more minutes of arguing the booking agent, on the verge of tears (he has no extra money either) gets in the car and we head to the border leaving the taxi drivers at the petrol station. All of us are thinking get us the f@#$ out of this country. We get to the border, it’s open (not really), we successfully get out of Zambia and walk to Tanzania, and they’re closing. They are kind enough to stay open for us and let us use their toilets, I will forever be grateful to the men working at that border post, they have no idea what hell they saved us if we had to return to Karonga for the night.

So we are walking across the border looking for the bus that is suppose to be waiting for us to take us to Dar. Our friend will be arriving at the airport in less than 30hours…where is it, where is this bus that will take us away from the hell we’ve just been through…where is our refuge…

***Just to clarify, I don’t think I can ever put into writing how terrifying this (and the others to soon follow) transport was. I’m not irrational, our safety was in danger, we should’ve flown.

***I also apologize for never proof reading or editing these things at all, I suck at writing, sorry.

African Overland Holiday...Part I

2009-01-17T07:55:00.000-08:00

First stop Zambia:

My holiday started off with free hiking to Rundu, in the rain (not recommended). I didn’t have horrible luck but I also didn’t have great luck. The worst part was the odd second-degree sunburn on my shins that would result from sitting in the back of a baaki during a rainstorm (those 10 minutes of sun apparently were killer). Those 10 minutes of being uncovered from the tarp I was laying under would apparently haunt me for weeks.

The next morning at 3:45am, my friends and I walked over to the Engen station in Rundu to catch the Intercape to Zambia. The Intercape is known for being reliable and accommodating. The fact that ours was an hour late and so stuffy from the lack of air circulation on a packed bus in the rain should have led us to assume our vacation would not be easy or go as planned.

After arriving to Livingstone two hours late we got off the bus and tried to ignore every taxi driver hounding us for a lift to our accommodation. The small quite guy just approached us saying “Jolly Boys, Jolly Boys, I will take you there.” This was where we were staying but we did not need anyone to take us there and we certainly would not be paying. We kept trying to get rid of the guy saying we had no money and didn’t need his help but he was sure persistent. At one point Beads turned to him and said, “Nothing’s for free,” this would not be the last time we would be wrong. The small man followed us and attempted to “walk” us there even though I was trying my hardest to walk fast enough that he would eventually give up. When we arrived at Jolly Boys it was to our surprise that indeed the man worked there and waited for us since 11am. We felt sorry and foolish and set up our tents right before the rain came. It would be raining most of our time in Zambia.

The next day Beads, Coll and I set out to go bungee jumping and what not off the bridge that connects Zimbabwe and Zambia. Juice came for moral support and photographer, which would turn out to be priceless. Beads and I signed up for the combo, bungee, bridge swing and zip line, while Coll did the swing. She went first and it was one of the funniest things to watch. It’s the dumbest thing I think a person can do. You just walk on the bridge with a rope connected to a harness at your belly button. You fall until the rope catches and only then do you being to swing. There is no elastic part of this; it’s all or nothing. I like to tell people it’s like jumping into a pool off a high dive but the pool never shows up. Normally halfway through a person freaks out and starts peddling their feet as if they can run back to the bridge (I didn’t do this out of pure shock I think). It’s super scary. For some reason that seemed like a much bigger deal than the bungee.

Beads and I did the bungee right after Coll did the swing. I had no fear I just dove right off that bridge as if I wasn’t 110m above a shallow river. My mind went blank and after a few seconds I just thought “what am I doing?” then the rope snapped up and I began my horrific bouncing. First I had watched a Utube video of a man who went bungee jumping and as he bounced up the rope wrapped around his neck and he hung him self (don’t watch this if you intend to ever go bungee jumping). On the first bounce the rope went around my arms and I started freaking out like I was going to hang my self and just started flailing to get the rope away from me. For the rest of the bounces I kept my arms above my head (streamline position) so that if the rope wrapped around me it would only get my arms and not my neck and head (irrational at the time). Little did I know that when you bungee you should put your arms out (T position) because it slows you down and stops you from spinning. Instead I just spun, I had no doubt I was going to vomit all over myself. When the worker lowered himself to get me he asked how I was doing and I yelled, “God, how do I make it stop spinning, I’m going to be sick.” He laughed and told me to put my arms out, shocking, I stopped. When I no longer thought I was going to vomit all over myself I began to freak out about the fact that the harnesses around my feet were extremely loose, I survived only to slip out of the harness and plummet into the river, awesome. When I got back on the bridge I had a horrible case of vertigo, which did not go away for four hours, I was miserable.

Luckily the rain began so the workers took an extra long break for lunch and the rain to stop. Unfortunately that meant Beads and I would be the first off the bridge as soon as they started up again. The long break allowed my vertigo to eventually go away but as I sat there thinking about the swing I started getting really scared. I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my short life. I’m all about the adrenaline rushes, sky diving, bungee jumping, roller coasters, rafting…I’m all about it and I honestly have never gotten scared, ever. So as I sat there waiting to do the swing and this fear grew inside of me I think I began to get even more worried because if I was finally thinking something was scary maybe that was for a reason.

Hours later Beads goes off the bridge for the second time. I just look down thinking, we are SO stupid. I tell the workers that they will have to push me off, I really want to do this but I’m not going to be stepping off this bridge (the video of me attempting this is hilarious, trying to rationalize with the workers about silliness, ugh). The thing about the swing is that when they connect the rope to you, you are pulled forward off the bridge (luckily you are still hooked up to the bridge). Gravity and the weight of the ropes and the tension…everything is pulling you to the river (my death). I get to the edge and think, oh I’m going to die. As promised the workers push me off and I scream (I don’t scream, ever). The entire way down I think, “This is by far the dumbest thing I’ve EVER done!” As promised the rope catches and I begin to swing. As soon as the rope catches I start laughing uncontrollably and put my arms out and lean back. Scared? Me? No, never. It was totally worth it. It was beautiful, so beautiful swinging in that gorge. Also because I wasn’t upside down there was no sickness or vertigo that followed. I still can’t believe how scared I was. This is a month ago and I still freak out when I think about the swing, something about it terrifies me but it’s that thing that’s drawing me back to it for round two (someday). We concluded the day with the zip line, which goes by too fast to enjoy, and really it’s like the cool down after a workout, needed but you can easily skip it.

Day two of exploring Victoria Falls took us to the Zambezi River, rafting rapids 1-10. So, some of the members in our group were terrified (is there a stronger word I can use?). And the fear of this was kinda haunting each of us, you couldn’t help but get infected because it’s all people talked about, dying on this trip, it’s funny looking back. So during our safety talk they go over what happens if you get trapped under the raft, half of our groups faces when pale white, their fears were now a reality. After settling some trouble we had with our assigned guide (we had heard some bad reviews) we get a new one and become team Obama…yeah we’re American.

We walk down to the boiling pot at the base of the falls to begin our trip. Rapid one, get across the roller coaster rapids at the boiling pot. Our first attempt, haha, we didn’t even get anywhere close to the rapid. Second attempt, we are going strong and I look up to Juice because he is setting the rowing pace on my side since he’s in the front and oops, in goes Juice. I hear high left which means I have to jump to the other side of the raft and oops, in goes JNaw. We get across the rapid and due to where the others fell out Juice joins us on the correct side of the rapids but JNaw went under or behind the raft and ends up first against the rocks and then back at the beginning. As someone who was already a little nervous about this she decides not to return to the river and the five of us push on to rapid number two. For rapids two and three Juice goes in each time. I think it’s something about being at the front of the rapid or a California waterpolo player drawn to water…anyways I was thinking this is going to suck if I’m the only one here to paddle on my side. Coll went in at rapid two and three and I think that got her fears out and she was ready for the rest.

Rapid four is a level five rapid and so naturally we were all super scared but we got through it and not only did we not flip but we didn’t lose anyone, we’re champs. See the thing about these rapids is that the first seven were not just one rapid. We would successfully do one and then the guide is like this is 4.25, 4.5, 4.75….what?!? I remember rapid five being super long and rapid six being hard but by the time we even got to seven we thought we had successfully went through 10 or more. Rapid seven, the longest rapid on the Zambezi was nicer to us than it was to other boats and once again we didn’t flip or loose anyone. The trip was beautiful, the gorge is amazing and we got to see crocodiles (I now DID NOT want to get in that water). Right as I’m thinking about the crocs the head guy on the kayak comes up to me asks if I’ve gone in yet and I say no, proudly, he points out an eagle and before I can see what he’s pointing at I’m in the water, WHAT THE HECK? Nice joke, but seriously get me out of the croc water.

At rapid eight we have an option to do an easy route or do a hard one, we all (not Coll) choose to “go big or go home!” Rapid eight had our number. We are completely vertical on the left side. I was already underwater and figured we were going to flip so I somersaulted into the water so I would be ready to climb back in. We didn’t flip. In one of the pictures you see all of us underwater, the raft on its side and Mach hanging from the rope on the left side. She was the only one to not go in the water. When I lift my head out of the water I realize, oh no flip and I look up the river and see Coll, she looks like she’s going to die, (she was in no real danger but going to kill herself out of fear). I yell out, “Someone get Coll,” but the guide is a step ahead of me. We all get back into the raft and realize…THAT WAS AWESOME! Wait, not all of us. Coll says, “I wanted to go small, not big, I wanted to go small.” Good times, haha. Rapid nine is too dangerous so all rafts have to walk around it. I promise to take care of Mach as I’m in sturdy Chacos and she is barefoot on slippery rocks. I realize I’m walking to fast and turn around and just see her feet come out from under her. Her scraps and bruises from that day would not be from actual rafting but walking. I stay at her side the rest of the time; I don’t want to be a bad friend twice. We get through the tenth rapid and realize that this trip was the best-spent money probably any of us have ever spent. The trip up the gorge was killer, seriously not fun. If I ever did this again, which I would totally want to do, I would opt for the full day just because the last rapids are easier and you don’t have to climb out of the gorge, you take a tram to the top…worth it, trust me. JNaw was waiting for us at the top and we got to enjoy a cool drink and watch the hilarious video of us on a few of the rapids. Team “no-flip”!

Our last day in Livingstone was spent enjoying the falls from a distance as we just walked around the Zambia side of the falls. That evening we did the sunset booze cruise. The highlight of this for me would be realizing my meat wasn’t cooked all the way and forgetting two minutes later and offering it to Beads. We would both have food poisoning the next day, awesome!

The next day started early, 5:30am packing up our stuff and the tents (in the rain). Getting on the bus at 7am and actually departing Livingstone at 7:01am, weird. The bus ride was hard. Not only are we all probably a little hung over but it’s also dirt road and not a good dirt road. It was raining so the windows had to stay up and well there is nothing I like more than being trapped in a hot tin container full of great African smells and body odors. I have no idea how I survived the eight hours on that bus (our shortest bus ride really). I arrived in Lusaka ill, really ill. After walking (mistake) to our accommodation I help JNaw put up the tent and eat a bite of soup and knock myself out. I wake in the middle of the night (7:30pm honestly), my fever is breaking and I’m miserable. This is when Beads and I figure out what happened as we are both spending quality time with the toilets, it’s hard to imagine that we are getting on another bus at 6am.

Once again in the rain at 4:30am, JNaw and I pack up the tent and our stuff, which now smells like mold (yummy). We get to the bus and stupidly think it will leave like ours the day before, four hours later after boarding the bus we depart to Chipata, at this point all of us have upset stomachs. We arrive in Chipata at 11:30pm and find a kind taxi driver who not only found the Peace Corps transit house but agrees to drive us to the Malawi border the next morning. I take the opportunity of being at a Peace Corps transit house to treat my now infect shins. You see the second degree burn I once had got ripped off from the raft a few days before and the rubbing of my jeans and the back of bus seats now have turned my wounds and uncomfortable color. Luckily, Chipata PC house has plenty of dressings to protect my poor legs.

At 7am, as promised our taxi driver is there ready to take us to the border. Problem free we cross the border, now entering phase two of our trip, Malawi.

The wheels on the bus go round and round….

2008-10-09T05:37:00.000-07:00

Our first activity for the community elders through the Pensioners Committee was a day trip to Etosha National Park. I was thrilled to have been invited for a free trip to the park. It’s only 100km away but without a car I had only been just the once with my parents in June. Thanks to our donations from FNB, Nexus and OK Food we were able to rent the Outjo Secondary School bus and take about 65 of Outjo’s elders along with some members of the CACOC and the hospital (me, the social worker and a nurse).

I was told to wait for the bus at 6am so that I can go and get the elderly from the old age home where I live when the bus had arrived. I walked down stairs at 6:05 knowing full well it wasn’t going to be on time. For over an hour me and the four elderly going from the old age home waited as the bus traveled through the locations and the squatter areas trying to find everyone who was suppose to join us. It’s not often that I’m up that early and outside but it was nice that the five of us got to watch the sky change from black to blue and the pinkish sun rise over the mountains (still think I would have preferred sleep). Once we were all in and set to go I snapped some photos of everyone packed into the bus, men and women in their Sunday best Damara and Herero outfits, it was truly a great scene.

About 30km down the road a commotion had started on the bus. The driver pulled over and all 65 elders got off the bus (with my help, as it would be for the entire trip) to relieve themselves. For some reason the whole scene cracked me up. Here are 65 people dressed to impress popping a squat in the bush as a group and still insisting on having and English/Damara conversation with me. Sometimes I just think “I can’t believe this is my life.”

After we all boarded the bus again we were finally on our way to Etosha. As soon as we entered the gates Zebras, Gemsbok, Springbok and Wildebeast overflowed the areas. It was awesome to see these adults act like children as they stood up trying to get a better view or pointing to a new animal. I loved that as I tried to take their photo (I was there to document their trip) they got mad and said “Amanda, what are you doing the animals are over there, we want photos to remember what we saw”, oops my bad. It reminded me of the bus ride from camp GLOW traveling north of Windhoek with all the learners as many of them saw their first baboon, here it was very much the same.

The community activist who had worked so hard in arranging this day told me that many of them had never been to Etosha even though they lived in Outjo their entire lives and all anyone wanted to see was an elephant. Namibia’s great massive elephant (larger than most other African elephants) many had only heard about but never actually laid eyes on. And so our mission began, to see and elephant.

We stopped in Okaukeujo and visited the information center which, was actually very educational on the different types of animals they have there and what made Namibia’s elephants so unique. They also had a decent display of animal skulls which was really fun to see the old men get scared of a lion just by looking at it’s skull in relation to a house cat. At the watering hole everyone just sat around looking at all the animals coming and going. As the day got hotter we set up under a large picnic area to prepare for our braai.

While we were all eating and socializing someone had told us that there was an elephant at the watering hole. Some of the older men and I jumped up and raced to the hole. There were only a few tourists there (which I think made the moment so much more special). As the men approached the watering hole they could see the elephant and their smile got bigger with every step. Two men started to cry and I asked what was wrong they told me “look, it’s so beautiful, so big, I’ve never seen one before.” I almost started to cry. I just sat with these men for about 10 minutes as they became awestruck at this elephant. Soon the others would join and many would have much of the same reaction. I couldn’t help but laugh at some of the women who got really frightened each time the elephant would move or raise it’s trunk or ears. I tried to explain that we were safe but my poor language skills and hand motions I’m sure didn’t reassure them. Then another elephant came walking over to the hole and as if the day couldn’t get better everyone looked at me with a smile and started pointing to the new elephant as if to say ‘look another one!’ And so the hours passed with us just watching the two elephants drink and bathe. A truly wonderful afternoon.

The only frustration I had was that many of the tourists saw all these native people dressed in their finest clothing and thought oh a photo opportunity and instead of taking pictures of the animals attempted to sneak pictures of the elders (many only stopped as they saw me glaring at them). People are not animals, if you want to take their photo just ask permission, it’s really rude when you don’t. I am very grateful to the two tourists who did ask for permission and then stopped to chat about what was going on and exchanged emails so that they could send their photos to the group, thank you I’m sure the elderly had no problem with you taking their photo but just the gesture of asking was very respectful.

I will try to post photos on this blog but have had trouble in the past. If you want to view the photos or donate to future events for the Pensioners Committee please email me. We are hoping to plan a trip next year to Windhoek (Namibia’s capital) to visit the old and new statehouses. It should be great as I’m sure many have never seen their government buildings or their capital city.

Just slow down and enjoy the walk....

2008-10-08T03:36:00.000-07:00

Everyday I walk between our two hospitals. They are about 3km apart and I normally enjoy my alone time, put in my ipod and just let my mind wander. Yesterday as I was turning the corner and heading up the hill I heard someone yelling my name from the new hospital. Looking back I noticed a women waving and running-ish after me. I had no idea who she was but I began back towards the hospital and greeted her. She asked if she could walk with me. I thought “why not?” She knew who I was and I didn’t wan to insult her by asking her name (probably for like the 50th time), it was clear we had met before. I noticed her shirt said National Disability Day and she had an apparent limp, so I figured that I she was a member of the PLWD committee (as am I). We walked the 3km to the old hospital, up hill, in the middle of the hottest day yet. I was shocked. Never did she complain, never did she ask to stop, never did she ask for my help (it’s not forgiving terrain). Like a champ she led the way through the bush (community back roads) to the old hospital chatting with me the whole way. She told me what it was like to live with a disability in Namibia and how most people are looking for a handout but not her. As an officer of the committee she gets on peoples cases if they are trying to not pull their weight. She said she understands that not everyone can pull the same amount of weight but everyone can contribute in someway to their own happiness and well-being, for those who can’t she’s there (and the committee). Wow. I was speechless. As we parted ways I wished her luck on her days duties and that I looked forward to our next walk or conversation. Each day I’m more and more impressed with the empowered individuals in this Outjo community. It’s moments like these and people like her that make it easy to be here and hard to imagine leaving. Moments which would have been missed if I had not slowed down.

You never know what the day will bring or who you'll meet....

2008-10-08T03:16:00.000-07:00

One of the cool things about my job or lack there of, is that I have thrown myself into every community group (thanks in part to the Social Worker) in Outjo. I’m a member of our CACOC, HIV/AIDS Support Group, People Living With Disabilities Committee, Coalition on Responsible Drinking, Literacy Promoters and other things that I can’t even remember the name of anymore. This week I was told that I was now a honorary member of the Pensioners Committee, a committee who works for the benefit and needs of community members over the age of 80. I thought, why not, it seems right up my ally, right?

During the committee meeting I was able to follow a little of Damara and Afrikaans and caught that I was introduced about 13 times. I also understood that I was being introduced because I was going to be taking photos of the elders the following day. I have to be honest the idea of trying to find all elders in town, the 7 locations and squatter areas did not sound like too fun but I was really wrong.

I showed up at the Councilor’s office early in the morning so that the Councilor would drive the community activist (who also oversees the Pensioner’s Committee) and I around for the day as we tried to find each community elder. It was like a large game of hide-and-go-seek. Some of the locations were easy as a few elders or care-takers had gathered up a few in one or two spots. Other locations we had to go house by house looking for where “Johannes” was (for example).

Along the trip I was informed with how each location got it’s name and also some background information on some of the elders. Throughout the day I believe I met around 50 elderly, most being over the 90 years of age. At first I thought, wow, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone this old, and now I know thirty! I had the great opportunity to meet the oldest person in Outjo who can still understand when being spoken to even though she is set to turn 103 soon! I met the oldest Lutheran pastor, which turned out to be the parent of one of my coworkers. I met men who where 97 with more spunk then most 25 year old. Men and women who are too old to find regular employment but continue to make a living repairing old chairs or selling other good they have made. I was just amazed at the fact that these are some of the people who helped fight for Namibia’s freedom. They have been there for the ugly and terrible times and are still alive to tell about it.

Although I learned that my language skills still need a lot of work, through the translations I was able to learn so much about these amazing people. I know I wasn’t the best sport in the beginning of the day but at the end I really felt honored and blessed to have had this opportunity and could not wait for the next opportunity to bond with these wonderful people. Who would have thought when I agreed to join the Peace Corps and move to Africa that this is what I would be doing. I love the uncertainty of my life here in Outjo and that each day is different than the one before. I honestly can never guess what tomorrow will bring.

The photos of Outjo’s elders will be printed and put on display in the Outjo Museum for tourists who pass through and may want to donate to the Pensioner’s Committee to help fund activities, I know I cannot post all the photos on here but if anyone is interested in seeing the photos or donating to the Pensioner’s Committee please contact me.

Running with Okeleni….

2008-10-07T10:03:00.001-07:00

It started out about two months ago. I had finally began to start my nightly run (I took ALL of winter off) again at dusk, when all of town shuts down and everyone heads home, including the Himba.

Ovahimba (Himba for short) are one of the only two remaining traditional tribes left in Namibia. They are everything you see in National Geographic, mud in the hair, covered in dark reddish brown dirt mixed with a buttery substance, cloth around their bottom and nothing on top, two bottom front teeth missing and their millions of bracelets and necklaces laid out in front of them to purchase. They are largely found in Opuwo but have migrated down the Kunene to Kamanjab and Outjo. The 30-40 Himba women in Outjo travel to and from town daily to sit on the main strip and wait for all the tourist buses to come through for a photo opportunity or to get traditional Himba jewelry (both are their means of income). For the first six or so months in Outjo I thought the Himba hated me. I would always attempt to greet them and they always looked angry and turned away. I figured it was because I wanted to talk to them and yet never wanted to buy anything, but recently that has all changed.

One night as I passed the Himba women packing up their things one younger spunky women jumped up and started running with me. I laughed as we ran for about a minute until she stopped and turned to return to her friends. The next night she was ready for me and we ran for our minute while I was still amazed that she wanted to run with me, I mean she didn’t have a sports bra! It continued this way for weeks. One night I had started a little late but I passed them as they were walking home and bless her heart with a baby on her back and all her jewelry packed on her head she grabbed my hand as we ran together. So it’s continued my Himba friend and I run hand in hand for a minute of my workout. When she stops we say “buh-bye” to each other and laugh. Today I was merely walking by since I’ve switched my running to the mornings this week and all the women started yelling “Okeleni, Okeleni!”(spelling could be wrong I know nothing about Ovahmba or Otjiherero languages), I of course had no idea what was going on and then out of a group of 20 or so women my running partner emerges with a smile on her face. It’s gotta be the greatest photo I can ever get in Namibia, but the memories will do. Breaking barriers in Outjo, one run at a time. Hand in hand with Okeleni, the highlight of my days.

Looking back....

2008-09-20T11:05:00.001-07:00

As I was sitting in car on our way back to Outjo from Swakopmund I laughed at how much time can change as I tried to remember my past birthdays (and because I’m bored, I’m sharing with you).

On September 6, 1982 I ruined/made my parent’s second anniversary extra special with a surprise appereance.

20 years ago I turned 6 years old in Mrs. Ruckman’s class. My mom had made cupcakes for the entire first grade class. It was an exciting time as I had just started my first sports team ever, softball.

10 years ago, when I had my “sweet 16”, it wasn’t anything like the parties people have on the MTV show but we had a fun backyard swimming party full of my family and high school and waterpolo friends. Like I would for so many years, I enjoyed Jen’s birthday party and then days later we enjoyed mine.

For my 21st birthday I did the classic idea and went to Las Vegas with Jen, Kevin and roommate. I had quit drinking by the time I turned 21 and I don’t gamble so I made my friends go on the roller coasters and check out the interiors of the different casinos, not the usual 21st birthday. For humor Jen and I went to the “Thunder Down Under” show, yeah that was interesting as the 40-50 year old married women made fools of themselves.

For my 23rd birthday, I threw myself a party in my new apartment as a college grad. I bought tons of pizza and giant cookie cakes from Mrs. Fields and celebrated the day of my birth with my southern California friends. My new co-workers at CBU gave me flower which I killed in a matter of days. Stipp and Toni surprised me with a trip to Vegas to see Kelly Clarkson. She ended up canceling the show at the last minute but on a gondola ride I enjoyed the employee’s opera version of “Since You’ve Been Gone.”

When I turned 24 my closest friends from college had a get together near L.A. where we at Adrian’s delicious Mexican cooking and played cards all night (my favorite things).

Last year I celebrated my 25th birthday with Nikki and my parents, the reality that my next birthdays would be in Namibia, when I was called by Loma Linda School of Public Health saying I had to turn in my last paper by midnight. I left dinner headed home to fight with our home internet to turn it in. What a boring thing to do, but I got it in at 11:55.

And this year I was in Namibia, having a weekend with my co-workers going to coast.

Can't wait to see what next year's birthday holds ;)

dear dear Namibia

2008-09-15T08:53:00.000-07:00

Dear co-worker who fed me this Sunday,

THANK YOU!!! It was amazing and I'll seriously trade you my chocolate chip cookies for your pumpkin fritters.

Gotta deal?
Dar

Dear Freezing Cold Water Showers,

I'm starting to appreciate you again. Please forgive me for the months of winter where I tried so hard to avoid you.

Glad to be friends again,
Dar

Dear Time Change,

I hate you. You’ve managed to mess up my sleep and running schedule and now I can't function right.

Cranky,
Dar

Dear Bugs,

Why oh why have you returned. Not only have I put my mosquito net down but you are still getting inside and eating me alive. Can’t we make a deal until Christmas or something?

Getting red and itchy,
Dar

Dear Mom,

I love that when you called yesterday and told me of exciting news you said “Oh, and since you won’t be here Friday….”, yes I won’t be there Friday, just like I wasn’t there last Friday or any of the Fridays for the last 11 months. I think it’s time we deal with the fact that I won’t be there for the next 14 months of Fridays either.

Very humored,
Your loving daughter : )

P.S. I joined the Peace Corps
P.P.S. Oh, but please keep the care packages coming

For those special Namiban men in my life…

Dear Security Guard,

You obviously got the point that I was a little weirded out by you and I know you understood when I asked please don’t watch me but tonight you hit a high note. As I was stretching after my run I heard something in the tree above the parking lot where I hang out and wouldn’t you know who was hanging out in the tree. It may have been late and pitch dark but your bright orange shirt gives you away. Please stop. There are so few places I can stretch and exercise without the old people watching me, why must you take away that one?

Not fooled by the monkey in the tree,
Dar

Dear Damara man who asked if he could test my vagina,

No. No sir sadly you cannot. I would also like to add that I’m really impressed by your English vocabulary but my answer is still no.

Not flattered,
Dar

Dear NamPost Employee,

I’m a little hurt that I was your second choice for a foreigner date. Maybe you could have had a shot had you not asked out the VSO first. True there is a good chance you thought she was me but still.

Never going to the lodge for dinner, doing laundry, talking, going for a cool drink or holiday-ing in Etosha with you,
Dar

***just a heads up

2008-09-13T05:23:00.000-07:00

I want to thank everyone who's sent me letters or packages. I really do appreciate it and I promise I'm pretty good about saying thank you via email right away. If you have sent me a package or letter and never got a response there is a good chance I did not receive it and I'm sorry. NamPost is kinda like a crap shoot with packages you never know what they will deliver. So if you are worried about a package please email me and I can tell you the best way to send it and notify you as soon as I get it. I recently learned that I didn't receive two packages from my friends and it made me think that although I thought I received all packages I guess I would never know if someone never told me they sent it and I didn't receive it. So, if you are still waiting for a thank you, email me. Again apologies, one of the troubles with living in Africa.

starting to love the DRC

2008-09-13T05:16:00.001-07:00

One of our doctors in Outjo is from the DRC and has decided to make it his job to educate me on current American news, he has a television and better internet access so I gladly appreciate his updates. His wife and I have hardly spoken to each other except about computers and internet for work purposes (she's also a doctor) but one day she touched my stomach and told me I was getting fat, which I did not appreciate as much as she might have thought I would. Anyways, her husband has totally made up for her fat comments, not only for my American news education but also in compliments. One day he said "We always see you running or walking around Outjo and I tell my wife look at how strong she is" (that is more of a compliment than the fat thing) and then last week I was feeling odd about turning 26 (seems old to me) and he said "Oh, don't worry you are still just a girl", thanks friend for brightening my days!

new job skills?

2008-09-13T05:08:00.000-07:00

After work on Thursday I was changing my clothes to get ready for my run when someone tried to walk into my apartment. Luckily my door has a latch like the kind hotels have and so the person was unsuccessful. Worried I tried to dress faster, then someone attempted to come in again, and again. I finally yelled out "yes, who is it?", no response. I finally open my door and find my neighbor, the Cuban doctor and one of the elderly men. They both look at me in surprise, like shocked I'm outside (hello you were just trying to come into my house). I discover that they needed my assistance for communication purposes (what?). I'm a little shocked since I don't speak Afrikaans and my two years of high school Spanish hardly qualify me to say anything other then what time is it and where is the bathroom. For the next ten minutes the Afrikaaner man, soon joined by a women, speak to the Cuban through me. Of course what's so ridiculous about this is the man is speaking to me in English and I'm speaking to the Cuban in English so I'm not sure why I was necessary. I guess I have a new job skill now, translating/communicating for those who are too lazy to try. Seriously, what a weird afternoon.

Some of the things that have changed since arriving in Namibia:

2008-09-10T06:49:00.001-07:00

- Walking for four or more hours in one day is no longer exercise but part of the job and a normal day.

- Someone proposing to me is no longer flattering but rather annoying. Also, saying yes is sometimes my only entertainment of the day.

- Snakes are mythical creatures to me, everyone tells stories of them and they tell me to be careful and what not but I still have yet to see one of these many snakes, so I put them in the same class as the boogeyman, unicorns and leprechauns.

- Being asked for money by my co-workers is no longer tolerated since I make way less then they do, which I know for a fact since I helped with the hospital budget.

- Talking about bodily fluids is totally acceptable conversation.

- I’m done being polite or nice, I don’t say “yes” to everything asked of me.

- Sometimes I play spider solitaire for hours to pass the time or to give me a break from work just like my co-workers, I feel it’s integration : )

- Like Namibians, I’m all about the freebies, t-shirts, food, tango (phone credit), hats, umbrellas, if it’s free I’m there!

- I floss my teeth just to have something to do during the night.

- Electronics breaking are no longer life shattering. As long as I still have something that semi-works life will be ok. The drama of them breaking has lost it’s thrill as it’s become an everyday occurrence. Currently I only have a shuffle that works and sometimes a camera.

- Personal hygiene is a thing of the past. I no longer care what I look like, at all. I don’t dress up for work anymore and I wear the same outfit everyday, it cuts down on laundry. Also, wearing things covered in dirt is totally acceptable cause even if I wash something it doesn’t stay clean long enough to make it worth it.

- Bugs and flies on my face doesn’t really get to me, except when a bug gets stuck between my face and my glasses, that’s kinda annoying.

- I’m not a clean freak anymore, I honestly have not cleaned my kitchen since arriving in January.

- Anytime I leave Outjo I consider it a vacation and will act like a tourist.

- I don’t really pay attention to people begging for money in front of the grocery store, I’ve seen this place for what it really is and the really poor people don’t have a way to get to the grocery store to ask for money and they are so food deprived that they don’t have enough strength to sit there all day long and pester tourists.

- I still find it odd when people ask “How long have you been here” my real answer is over 10 months. It totally doesn’t feel like it and were has the time gone.

My Namibian Birthday; with people yet alone

2008-09-10T06:48:00.000-07:00

To fully appreciate the “Namibianess” (yes I’m making up words) of my 26th birthday, I must tell of all the events leading up to this weekend, all the good, the bad and the ugly.

My first plans months ago were to travel up north to Rundu to spend the weekend with the Kavango volunteers on the Kavango River looking at hippos and what not. Peace Corps had planned a committee meeting in Windhoek for the 5th and the 6th (my birthday) so I sadly canceled my plans and surrendered to the idea of being in the capital (not a big fan) with other PCVs sitting in a meeting. On the Wednesday just before, I was told via sms that the meeting had indeed been canceled and since it was too late to turn in a request for vacation time I decided staying in my flat laundry, watching movies and cleaning would be my birthday weekend, not much different from any other weekend.

When the VSO heard that I would be in Outjo she decided that we must go somewhere (she has a car). I love stupid touristy type things so I began listing all the places near Outjo I wanted to go but never could since I don’t have a car. I finally decided on Twyfelontein and the Petrified Forest. This is a collection of really old trees and the largest display of African rock art, another benefit is they are less than 200km away so it could easily be done in a day trip! Well the VSO invited some of our co-workers whom we are close with and everyone agreed to go where the birthday girl wanted, Twyf. Over the next few days my Namibian co-workers began talking and decided they wanted to go to Walvis Bay to see our old hospital driver. They began to put the pressure on me and the VSO to change our plans. To settle the dispute fairly I decided to flip a coin, we were going to Twyf.

Friday, September 5th four of us headed to the Craft Show in Outjo, which was hilarious. Many of the locals had booths to display their crafts or treats. The highlight in my opinion was the Afrikaaner men who are about my age. You see most Afrikaaner men wear really really short shorts but today I was lucky enough to not only have that view but many decided to go shirtless, what a birthday present!!!! Also on Friday, Thea (another PCV in Caprivi) was passing through on her way to Etosha with her mom and they stopped by the hospital to chat and to deliver a piece of birthday cake for me, thanks Thea and Thea’s mom, it was delicious and super sweet of you guys to do.

Around 7:15am on Saturday we picked up everyone to head to Walvis Bay : p (somehow the VSO and I just gave in Friday afternoon). By the time we left Otjiwarongo my co-workers were sipping/downing Windhoek Lager (beer) and I chewed on Mopane worms (Kunene classic), it was only 8:30am. The car ride was a mix of listening to American soft rock from the ‘80s and before. Highlights of course were the conversations, the family of baboons (seriously like 50) we almost hit outside of Kalkveld and getting beer splashed on me from time to time. I’m thinking this day can only get better.

When we finally arrived in Swakop I wanted to eat but my co-workers wanted to shop so we split up and I enjoyed a delicious lunch (seriously it was great) with a fellow PCV in Swakop and the VSO. Later we all went to the Swakop Aquarium (the Snake Park was sadly closed) which needless to say is no Monterey Aquarium. The main (only) tank was smaller than my backyard pool but there was tunnel underneath. We went during feeding time which was great to watch since the scuba diver was fighting a turtle who just never got enough to eat. At one point the turtle got the strap of his mask and snapped it off, the diver spent the next 15 minutes pushing/shoving the turtle away from him. This cute little German boy came up to me and asked if I would help him see in the tank so I spent about 10 minutes holding this little stranger on my knee has we shared the diver-turtle fight sequence together.

After the aquarium we went to the house of my co-worker’s aunt who was so sweet and offered a braai or a trip to the farm at a later time but we settled on some juice (I’m totally taking her up on her braai on the top of the mountain at her farm next year for sure). It was nice to see the Swakop location which is AMAZING compared to Outjo’s. My co-workers then decided it was time to get plastered (drunk) in the Walvis Bay location. Um, not really my idea of fun at all so I choose to stay over in Swakop at a fellow PCV’s house rather than traveling to Walvis and not being able to escape my invitation to a drunken night of entertainment.

In Swakop alone, I took advantage of a fast high speed wireless internet (almost forgot what that was like, wow) café where I could use my own computer. At 8 o’clock, when they closed I headed to the Lighthouse Pub and Restaurant for some pizza. The hostess gave me a table by myself and I happily sat there alone answering the many birthday smses I had received throughout the day. A few minutes later the hostess brought over a couple and sat them at my table with me, um awkward. They were obviously on a date and I was for sure a third wheel and interrupting the mood. I couldn’t help but laugh (on the inside) the entire time as all three of us sat in silence. It was really a weird date (well what I observed) the man (white) ordered food and beer and ate a bunch while the woman (black) sat there, didn’t say anything or eat or drink anything. I was more uncomfortable for them than I was for my party of one.

After the lighthouse I walked home to the PCV’s house and enjoyed a hot shower (a special treat for me) and watched the office as my cell phone died. Although I loved my conversations with my family, Nikki and a super long chat with Toni I realized that with a dead phone I now had no way to let the VSO know where I was so she can pick me up the next day. I sent out a sms that said “my phone is dead, I’m at the internet place tomorrow” and went to bed praying the message went through before the phone totally died.

Luckily, they found me and the hour time change was not agreeing with their hangovers. Since everyone was so hungover my co-workers slept and I seized the opportunity to put my shuffle in and finally listen to my music (so I had an amazing car ride back in my own world). The VSO was a great sport doing all the driving, and I thank her for the idea of celebrating my birthday. Eventually we made it back to Outjo, everyone sick and tired (combination of drinking, the temperature changes, and the ride itself) including me but definitely a classic Namibian birthday worth remembering.

Random moments and thoughts from the last 48 hours…

2008-07-05T08:54:00.000-07:00

As I got on the train to leave Windhoek I found that the car was very crowded (unusual) and not one bunk area had a door (fabulous!!!).
…………………………………
As I am meeting “new friends” on the train a woman kindly approaches me about my safety and informs me “You don’t need to be worried miss, no don’t be worried I will sleep with you tonight, in your blanket, with you.” (Um, ok you are now the only one I’m worried about on this train, not the angry drunks, the old men looking at me and my stuff in odd ways, ONLY YOU MISS).
………………………………….
Holy crap it’s cold. Beyond cold, I can see my breath every second I’m on the train.
………………………………….
Well my bright yellow “Stop TB” is kinda stained with black dots thanks to a washing machine and permanent marker and now I was wondering what on earth would I wear everyday. Luckily Namibia is awesome like this and I received a bright neon green “Drink Responsible” shirt, problem solved, thanks Namibia!!!
……………………………………
I woke up in Outjo this Friday freezing. Seriously after a hot bucket bath and walking to work I was still freezing. After a few hours and a game of volleyball I finally got some warmth restored to my fingers, really Namibia who knew July was going to be so freezing, worst thing since I have no way to warm up, ugh.
…………………………………….
Razor wire fence ZERO – Amanda 1 (before our Drink Responsible Celebration as I was putting flags on our new fence)
…………………………………….
Razor wire fence 1,0000 – Amanda 1 (after taking the flags down, 1,000 alluding to the number of cuts on my hands)
You win razor wire fence, you win!
………………………………………
An Afrikaner carnival in Outjo – of course! An Afrikaner country singing duo making an appearance, I’ve never seen a bigger Afrikaner crowd in Namibia – EVER! Wow, who are these country singing brothers?
………………………………………
To celebrate America’s independence I thought about going to the Afrikaner carnival but settled on sitting in bed watching 3 seasons of the television show Weeds, something that displays America at it’s finest!!! Happy Independence America!!!!!!!!

oh technology....

2008-07-01T04:43:00.000-07:00

Dear Macintosh Corporation,

Did I do something to you? Why do you insist on ruining my life? I have always been a Mac user and supporter but lately you have me questioning if you are out to get me. Yes, I was sad when my old iBook died the day I arrived in Namibia but I understood it was old and well I was lucky to have it as long as I did. I totally looked past when my brand new iPod kept screwing up and constantly needed to be restarted after freezing up every week. I have also begun to forgive you guys for the sadness caused when the shuffle my mom bought me (for safer running in Africa) didn’t work, straight out of the box. I mean that was sad, she was so excited to have bought it and put a message on it and I receive it in Namibia in it’s Apple packaging and it’s a dud. But, that’s life I guess. It’s just now my brand new MacBook, literally less than six months old is acting up and yesterday a DVD got stuck in it and broke the lens so I have to replace the entire CD/DVD drive, wtf? Hey, I’m a Peace Corps volunteer which means one, I’m trying to do some good in the world, two, I live on about 200USD a month and three, my computer is my life here. I cannot afford to keep getting Apple products fixed, especially when they are brand new and I’m trying to take super good care of them. You don’t have a store here and the only shop which sells anything Apple or could fix anything Apple is not exactly close. I mean this is getting ridiculous. So please whatever I did to deserve this forgive me and lets go back to the loving relationship we used to have before I joined the Peace Corps, SERIOUSLY!

Wishing for better luck with Mac products in Namibia in the future,
Amanda

"This is Namibia, you need at least two spares"

2008-07-01T04:42:00.000-07:00

To give my parents a real taste of Namibia I had decided that we would be traveling on the back roads of Namibia, which are mainly dirt roads and not all are maintained regularly. We had left Sossusvlei early in the morning in order to get to Luderitz by early afternoon. An hour or so after leaving we were in the middle of a canyon trying to make our way out of it on the rough dirt road. All of the sudden we hit a sharp rock, twice, the front and back right tire. My father shared a few swear words and my mom just kept saying things like “Are you serious?”. We got parked the car on the top of a hill and walked the 500m to the last farm we had passed. I tried to ask the guy for help but he kept saying, “White man not here”, thanks buddy. Luckily it’s National Immunization Day time and the Ministry of Health is out driving to all the farms to immunize all children. They saw our car and stopped to help, unfortunately they were not going in our direction. The did however help us flag down a nice Afrikaner couple who with the help of their worker took the tires off our car and flagged down another car, a Dutch tourist couple to drive me the 50km to the nearest town to try to repair the tire. I left my parents in the middle of the Namib Desert, somewhere in a canyon with little water, food, no cell reception and a nice car with our entire luggage – this must have been the highlight of my parent’s trip! At the nearest town I was saddened when they couldn’t repair the tire and instead I had to buy a new one, problem they didn’t have the exact tire. I took what I could get and prayed it would work and then sat on the side of the road for 3 hours waiting for a hike back to the canyon. The elderly Afrikaner couple finally showed up at noon and drove me back and luckily the tire worked, using the other spare we were finally up and running.
Seeing how we didn’t have another spare, we drove very slowly to Luderitz (it’s official my mom hates dirt roads by now). We got there in the evening and luckily were able to buy new tires the next day. I felt horrible. I mean it’s really common but you never want your own parents to experience real Namibia. Luckily Namibians are super helpful. Every car that passed my parents offered to help in whatever way they could, giving water and what not. My gratitude goes out to the older Afrikaner couple that really went above and beyond in our situation. My poor mother stranded in the middle of nowhere for more than four hours, I’m surprised she survived with how worked up she can get as a worrywart. Luckily we were ok and everything turned out ok but my favorite part was one guy who stopped told my dad “This is Namibia, what were you thinking, you need two spares to travel here”, lesson learned. TIN

Last taste of Africa

2008-07-01T02:12:00.001-07:00

Normally goodbyes at the airport can be very sad but not today. As my parents were checking in they where informed that their bags were overweight and needed to pay around $150USD. Um, no I don’t think so. First off their bags where much heavier getting here then they were departing (they had brought tons of stuff for me, heavy stuff) and secondly my mom didn’t really have a carry on so some luggage could have been given to her. The airline was being very difficult and acted like the only option was to pay. No, I simply informed them that we would not be paying at all and that if necessary they needed to get my parent’s luggage off the plane and allow them to move some things around (why the heck would they load my parent’s bags without them being completely checked in, stupid). So after 30 minutes of waiting as they tried to locate my parent’s bags (yes, my worry-wart of a mother is freaking out at this point thinking she is going to miss her plane, there are tears involved) they bring us the bags and we move things around and my parent’s finally get checked in. Silly, all the luggage was still going on the plane, what’s the difference between the weight being in the overhead versus the luggage compartment, I just don’t get it. So all the stress and frustration of my parent’s boarding fiasco took away from the fact that I would not be seeing my parent’s for about a year and a half. Thanks South African Air for taking away my goodbye, hope it was worth it. I’m just bummed that my parent’s last impression of Africa was this miserable; I mean seriously what a horrible way to leave this wonderful country.

Whoa my parent’s in Namibia

2008-07-01T02:10:00.001-07:00

First impressions: “There is nothing out here” – so true
First meal: kudu pie – someone told my mom not to find out what a kudu actually looked like cause then she should eat it, haha
First morning: freezing cold shower – welcome to Namibia : )
First day: no credit cards work properly so relying on a Peace Corps salary – welcome to my life; lots of men with guns, small boarder control rooms, a variety of African body odor – I’m sure my parent’s were thinking why did we come here?

Yeah, my parent’s trip got off to a great start needless to say. To me it was funny cause this is my life but I can understand and appreciate their concern. Our first adventure was Victoria Falls, which was so beautiful. So loud and so wet but wow amazing. We spent that night in Katima where we did a Zambezi River tour and went looking for hippos, a nice relaxing night and we got lucky with a few hippos. From Katima we drove to Tsumeb stopping in Rundu where Justin a fellow PCV showed my parent’s a traditional Kavango meal. We ate lunch at a shack with a goat hanging from the wall preparing for the next meal. They gladly ate their pop (porridge) and random meats. It was wonderful.
Etosha was amazing we saw so many animals; a herd of like 25 elephants crossed the road right in front of our car. Many times we had to stop as the giraffes, zebras, springbok, elands or gemsbok got out of the road. It was really cool. In the evening we did a night game drive where we got to witness a territorial struggle of rhinos, a pride of lions and a spotted hyena. Seriously without seeing a leopard I still left the park completely satisfied.
Opuwo was great for my parents to see the traditional Himba life, yes it’s a little awkward doing one of those touristy Himba tours but I’m glad my parent’s got to see one of the very traditional people of Namibia. It was also nice to show my parents around the Kunene Region, my home basically, Outjo, Kamanjab, Opuwo and Khorixas and the fellow PCVs in those areas. After Khorixas my parents got their first taste of dirt roads as we went the long way to Swakopmund, for a few hours there was nothing or no one in site, I mean it was really us and the desert.
From Swakopmund we saw the giant red sand dunes of Sossusvlei, which brought great entertainment as my mom attempted to climb the sand dune. After the dunes we headed to Luderitz to see the penguins and the diamond ghost town and finally back to Windhoek. Overall my parents got an amazing look at a large majority of this beautiful country. It was a lot of road time but hey this is a big place it’s kinda what you have to do if you want to see it.

Nothing but time

2008-07-01T02:09:00.001-07:00

A lot of thought went into this decision. First, my grandfather had passed away a few days before and he loved trains as a way of transportation. I thought it would be my way of saying goodbye or to honor his memory, or even my own type of remembrance since I would not be at the funeral. Second, I’m terrified to ride in cars in Namibia. Seriously I get an anxiety attack when I’m in them. Third, my hospital said to leave early cause I wasn’t my normal bubbly self since my grandfather’s passing and there wasn’t much for me to do at work. So in the end, I boarded the train from Otjiwarongo to Windhoek, a mere 300km distance.
No shocker the train was late. Real late. After my fellow PCV and I boarded the train we quickly got situated foolishly thinking we would be leaving soon. Three hours later we had fallen asleep. Well into the night I finally felt our train move, oh false alarm we only moved back and forth on the tracks in the train station for a few more hours. Once we finally got moving I couldn’t sleep because I thought the train was going to jump off the tracks, seriously I didn’t know trains made those movements or noises, I was so scared. Somehow throughout the night and morning I nodded in and out of a semi-awake sleep. Sometimes I would only sleep when the train wasn’t moving (which happened a lot). Around 7am we awoke and the train wasn’t moving. We were supposed to arrive in Windhoek at 6am so I was a little concerned. I could tell by the mountain range we were not anywhere near Windhoek and I was more concerned when at first not a single person on the train seemed to be moving, what was going on? Two hours later someone informed us that the driver had been off the clock around 7 so he stopped the train and got off and we were waiting for another driver to show up, we were somewhere in between Okahandja and Karibib. When finally arriving in Okahandja I was hopeful that we’d be leaving to Windhoek since there were no passengers and we were already way behind schedule. For thirty to forty-five minutes we moved back as forth on the same tracks in the station and then eventually made our way to Windhoek.
As we approached the Windhoek station all the workers were laughing and waving yelling, “Oh, just a little late” or “It’s about time”. We again did the back and forth thing in the Windhoek station and then around 1pm finally departed the train station. The whole adventure took about 18 hours to travel a distance that can be done in 3 hours in a car. In the end I decided that we had moved backwards more than we had moved forward and we had also been stopped more than we were moving. Oh TransNamib…well I guess it’s fine when you are like me and have nothing but time but thank goodness my parent’s had rented a car.

sixth sense?

2008-06-07T09:53:00.000-07:00

Years ago I had a similar experience. I was 19 years old and sitting at home late at night while my younger sister was out having fun, classic. A feeling came over me and I began to worry about her, something inside me just felt like she wasn’t ok. Moments later the phone rings and as my mom answers I ask “What’s wrong with Lis?” Sadly I was right, something was wrong. Lis had gotten in a bad car accident. Luckily everyone would be ok after some doctor visits and surgeries.

Last night it happened again. I was reading “The Namesake” and just got to a part that I desperately needed a break from. I put the book down and took some time to reminisce about my grandfather. He’s really ill and when I left for the Peace Corps I realized it might be the last time I see him but more recently it’s become the sad reality. Lately, he has been on my mind a lot as his condition worsens while waiting to leave this world. As I was thinking about times I’ve spent with my grandparents I begin to think about actually going home and not seeing him there. The next time I visit my grandfather it will be at his gravesite. One of these days this week will not only be either my mom’s birthday or my sister-in-law’s birthday but will also mark the grandfather’s last day. Why blog about this sadness, well, it’s part of my experience here and part of my life. It was just too much to deal with at the moment so I decided to write about it. During my 30 minutes of remembering silly times with my grandpa my heart stopped and I just knew the phone was going to ring. I got up and walked to my phone and just then it rang. I answered knowing it was my mom and listened as she told me my grandpa was in a permanent sleep, we will never wake up again. The culmination of the last hour kinda hit me, I hung up on my mom (oops) and just took a minute to embrace what was happening. I’m not an emotional person normally so I took a minute, cried, and then tried to comprehend that life as I knew it would never really be the same again. It is apart of life and it’s not like he was taken unexpectedly, or that we haven’t had enough time to prepare but being the first close family member that I will loose I’m still unsure on how to deal with it and how to grasp the idea of the future without him in it. I can’t be too sad, he was in pain and he is on his way home, something he longed for in his last days. I’m just heartbroken that I wasn’t there, I couldn’t see him one last time, couldn’t hug him or joke with him. He is in a better place I know, but how do you say goodbye, especially if you aren’t physically there to say it and how on Earth am I suppose to go on with my mundane activities with all this baring down on me? I understand you just do and I will but that really just makes me sick to think about. Sorry for the depressing and odd ramblings of my life, I’ll try to be a little different in future entries. Other than issues back home, life here is fine.

oh yes I did....my bad

2008-05-19T01:15:00.000-07:00

This Saturday was well a lazy day. Yes, I did not leave my bed for the majority of the day, ate a box of Choc-kits, half a medium bag of Nik-Naks and a variety of other junk foods. Really the day is over since it’s pitch black at night and I have nothing to show for it except watching season 1 of Heros and season 2 of The Office, fabulous!!!!

Oops, Sunday I did the exact same thing except I watched seasons 4,5 & 6 of Scrubs…wow, this is getting ridiculous. Thank God it’s Monday and I can at least go to work for 8ish hours of the day.

Camp G.L.O.W.

2008-05-02T10:42:00.000-07:00

So once a year Peace Corps Namibia puts on a leadership camp for boys and girls grades 8-10 in Windhoek. Camp G.L.O.W. (Guys and Girls Leading Our World) brings around 75 learners from all over Namibia who have been identified as someone who is a leader or stands out or maybe has the potential to excel with the right direction. The learners are not the only one’s who benefit, 16 older Namibians (youth ages 19-35ish) are chosen to volunteer as facilitators (after training) to help guide the learners, watch over them and serve as a positive role model for the learners. You see Camp GLOW is trying to focus more on Namibians helping each other and the facilitators are the key to that process. The facilitators are chosen because they are leaders in their communities. I had the opportunity to go and observe this year’s camp in hopes to get some understanding of what running a camp actually takes or entails. First WOW, Nam26 in my opinion really did a great job, but it wasn’t easy. I think it’s Murphy’s Law that says something like “anything that can go wrong, will”…unfortunately this year’s Camp GLOW really lived up to that message, but despite all the things going wrong the learners had an awesome time and I think they really gained a lot from being there.
Although I was there to “observe” I was put to work immediately when a transportation crisis’ left learners and PCVs hours and hours away from Windhoek. Me and the other 27ers were assigned little jobs just to take some of the stress off the 26ers, I mean they had a lot to deal with it. After a day the 26ers decided that someone needed to fill the spot of a facilitator who couldn’t make it. Since I had already spent so much time with that group and had nothing serious to do in Outjo I decided to stay for the entire week and become a facilitator, which I must say was such an amazing experience.
Throughout the eight days I really got to bond with my 8 learners. During the different days I got to see a different learner excel. Each day has a different theme like “Team Building Day”, “HIV/ADIS Day”, “Leadership Day”, “Future Day” etc. It would be too much to write about the entire week but here are some highlights of my week through just a few of my amazing group members…

“B” is a learner who didn’t speak much, actually much may be an overstatement. She sat quietly for like five days just following what everyone else was doing. On “Leadership Day” one of the activities was to practice good public speaking, it took some silliness on my part but I got her to start making some noise. By the end of the exercise I was almost in tears as she read her speech with such confidence, so loud, with eye contact to each member, oh my gosh I wish I could paint a picture of this four foot mute stating her dreams and aspirations to our entire group, it was beautiful. As if I wasn’t proud enough after that during that talent show on the last day she was one of the main actors and really just did it with all she had, aw, wonderful. I sat in the back of the theatre room just amazed at what I was watching, it was as if she had finally got comfortable with the group and the camp and just broke out of her shell.

“Mr. President” is brilliant. I mean really he is so smart. Anytime any speaker or presenter asked a question he had the answer. When asked what his dreams were he said that he “wanted to become a doctor, find the cure for AIDS and then retire as the President of Namibia” something in the way he said it and after getting to know him and knowing his potential…I believe it. “Mr. President” really shined in his leadership abilities, he is a natural and leading our group just seemed like what he was born to do. I really hope he follows through with the plans he has for his school and community, something tells me he will.

“The Wizard” is another really quite one who just kinda went along with the group but on “Leadership Day” things totally changed. During a blindfolded obstacle course she masterfully guided half the group safely through the course all at once. It was awesome. After that day she had a new power that was just really cool to see develop.

“Somebody”. Anyone with facebook knows that all my status updates last week were about “Somebody”, well this is him. Somebody is a grade 8 learner from a village sort of near me. On the first day of camp the learners had to decorate a t-shirt using words that described them. This learner kept writing NB all over his t-shirt. He told me it was a nickname his teachers at school gave him and now everyone calls him NB. Later Jill found out what NB stood for because he wouldn’t tell me. NB is short for Nobody. What kind of teacher says something like that to a child, let alone repeat enough times so it sticks with them? My heart broke as I thought of this child thinking he was actually nobody before his life really starts. I decided this was not only unacceptable but I wasn’t going to encourage it by repeating that name. Starting that day he began to go by SB or Somebody. It was really cute if anyone said “I need somebody to help with this” SB would walk forward and state “I’m Somebody.” The best part of it was that on the last day when the learners were suppose to add things to their t-shirts that they had learned about themselves over the week Somebody changed all the NBs to SBs and wrote SOMEBODY all over it. Out of all the villages in Namibia, he probably comes from one of the worst so I worry about him but luckily he is close enough to me that I can go visit and check up on him.

These are just some of the stories from my group and there were seven other groups so just imagine how camp had changed some learners. Having professional Namibians come and speak to them about careers really made these learners think of all they can do. After a career panel where an accountant and geologist really sold their jobs half the learners wanted to go to university to be come one of the those two exciting careers. Gaza (the biggest music star in Namibia) comes from a really bad background much like a lot of the learners but has made something of himself and continues to work on changing Namibia. When he spoke to the learners it was one hilarious to see them go nuts that they actually were face to face with their icon but to have that icon encourage them to follow their dreams and not to get mixed up in drugs, alcohol and sex…probably one of the best motivators for them of the week. The week was filled with these moments that really made me so grateful for the opportunity I had to participate this year and help plan next year’s camp. It was the hardest week that I have had here, I worked 6am-11pm straight, always on, but it was also the most rewarding week. I feel so blessed for this past week.

I LOVE NAMIBIA!!!

2008-05-01T11:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Semi Truck Driver,

Thank you so much for searching Outjo for the only American and returning my sandals to me. You made my day. You ROCK!

So Grateful,
DAR

reality bites

2008-05-01T08:17:00.000-07:00

I was watching Garden State last night and one line from the movie really hit home for me..."I'm homesick for a home that not longer exists." That is exactly how I feel. As I am sitting here typing my grandfather is slowly dying. As I went to sleep last night I had visions of moments with him. It makes me miss home, makes me miss him. Although I have come to terms with the fact that I will never see him again (I'm not being morbid, it's a fact) I still cannot imagine home without him. My grandparents have lived around the corner from my since I was in fourth grade, they have been very much apart of my life for as much of it as I can really remember. The idea of returning to America, returning home without him there makes me ill. At times when I think of home and start to miss it my mind always tells myself that my version of home will no longer be there. It's not like missing something knowing that you'll get it again, I'm missing something that I can never get back. When I am done with my 27 month service my home will be lost forever, I will return to a different America, a different California, a different life. Sometimes that's too much to deal with. I really just don't know how I will ever be able to be home without him.

speical times in Namibia

2008-05-01T08:14:00.000-07:00

Dear Semi-Truck driver somewhere in the Kunene Region,

You have no idea the value of the treasure in your cab. You have one of my reef sandals and one of my chacos (without backs) basically you have one of each of my favorite sandals. I hope you enjoy their presence as much as I would.

Thanks for the ride though,
Dar

Dear Inventor of the Cholera Cot,

You are a genus. It may just be the best invention ever. Although I have not had Cholera a recent case of explosive/runny diarrhea (thanks Namibia) has really allowed me to appreciate the concept of the cholera bed and gosh I really wish I had one. If you could make one portable so I could travel with it that would be even better. This may be too much information but anyone who has experienced a similar situation will understand, it ain’t fun. If you have any extra beds send them my way.

Impressed,
Dar

Dear Feet,

Why does something always have to be wrong with you? I need you, how can I make things right? When can we be up and running again, I hate these cracks between us ; )

In pain,
Dar

of course in Namibia

2008-04-14T11:23:00.000-07:00

Today was hilarious and it's hard to explain the randomness of it all but I was fortunate enough to get a free ride from Windhoek back to my site by an Angolan priest working in the region. For the 3.5 hour car ride I was attempting to understand Porteguese (sorry can't spell this evening, nor do I care to spell check) with whatever Spanish I know and tried to communicate with the passengers using my horrible Spanish skills. I mean forget learning Damara or Afrikaans, today the only language I needed was one that actually isn't one of the the 10 or so spoken here. Oh and I must say Angolan music really puts Damara hymns to shame, the are fabulous.

Live from Windhoek...luckily

2008-04-11T22:56:00.000-07:00

So well leave it to the boys to talk me into silly things. So four of us (PCVs, Chaz, Dave, Chris-the voice and me) were heading to Windhoek for training for VSN-Volunteer Support Network, a committee that we got accepted to. We were super excited and after looking in Otjiwarongo for over an hour for a free hike Chaz came through with a great ride that looked pretty safe. We climbed in the back of the truck with our luggage and the 3 consultants’ luggage and headed to Windhoek. We were about 20 km outside of Okahandja when we came over a hill and Chaz said “oh look a baboon” at that moment rather than looking at the baboon I looked at the road as I was against the tailgate door facing my friends. I saw that we were quickly approaching a stopped vehicle and not stopping in time “We are gonna hit” was all I could say and then bam, we were in our first Namibian car accident. Rather than pulling off to the side of the road to take a picture of the baboon the German tourists decided that stopping in the middle of the road on a blind hill would be smart. Everyone is ok and more of less injure free. The boys were my pillow so I’m great but the boys have some bruises for when we all kinda hit each other. Luckily a nice couple from Ondangwa stopped 30 minutes later and gave us a ride to Windhoek so we weren’t stuck in the middle of nowhere on the B1. As far as accidents go we are so very LUCKY and we know it. Had there been someone behind us I would not be writing this, Dave and I probably would not have survived or if the driver decided to try to go around the Germans we would have hit on coming traffic or we would have went on the soft shoulder and for sure flipped at that speed and well that would not have ended well. God was certainly watching over us yesterday.

Oh, weirdest thing the Germans’ back windshield was destroyed and our truck like a champ. With all the car parts and windows on the hood of our car there was a lone avocado sitting on the windshield wipers, funny huh, glass and an avocado.

Oh the time change is going to change my life…

2008-04-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

Random pieces of the weekend in Outjo:

Saturday I was able to go to the cutest thing in Namibia. All the preschoolers in the location gathered for a type of “field day” or track competion. It was adorable to see children so excited about their events, I mean 3-6year olds running, jumping, participating in relay events, ADORABLE. The teachers were so into it as well and the parents, well they reminded me of my own mother at my soccer and waterpolo games. The kids didn’t get anything for winning but it didn’t matter. The children looked happier than most kids look on Christmas day. Seriously, what a great day, so much fun for everyone there.

Today officially was the time change in Namibia. The sun woke me up at 5:30 this morning when it normally doesn’t shine in my eyes until after 6:45. It was so hot by 7 there was no way I was going running. The good thing about the time change is that now it won’t be cold in the morning so my freezing cold shower (oh yeah my electricity and hot water are off, yea I’m actually in normal Namibia now) won’t kill me as much as it used to. Now it gets pitch black at like 6:15 at night. So much for my nightly runs, so much for my routine in Outjo, gosh now I’ll have to once again wake up early to run in the cold, at least now there is light.

Special note: rainy season is over. It’s hot (not summer hot, more like September in California) and dry. Oh winter cannot come quick enough.

I totally rocked some chocolate chip cookies today. Then to make the weekend more perfect I added some ice cream and enjoyed an ice cream chocolate chip cookie sandwhich.

Somedays the Namibian sky isn’t beautiful and breathe taking, somedays it just…is.

2008-04-06T11:54:00.001-07:00

Is it culture shock? I don’t know. Is it homesickness? Probably not. What it is/was I still don’t know. The last few weeks have been rough. Not only was I physically ill but I think emotionally I was suffering. You see I, like most, joined the Peace Corps with some idea of living in a hut with nothing for two years, totally immersed in a community and culture and through my interaction and health programs in a sense begin to change the world. Being here is well-far from that. I don’t think my culture shock is from Namibia being different from America but more from my life in Outjo being not at all what I had expected. They tell us to come with no expectations and in a sense I didn’t. I also gave no preference when PC asked where I wanted to live and what I wanted to do. I guess I figured by giving no preference and openly saying I’ll live anywhere I figured I would get the job (no one really wanted) completely isolated from the world, in a hut with nothing and no job purpose, expected to make it up as I go…what I didn’t realize is that is the life I deeply wanted and I should have spoke up. I never expected to be in a town, a real western type town, completely separated from the community I’m trying to integrate into to, living in an Old Age home with hot, running water, electricity and security guards or doing graphic design type work at a hospital that doesn’t have the capabilities to even do that. Basically I never ever imagined THIS and well dealing with the reality has been hard, harder than I ever thought. I was told that sometimes being a PCV in Namibia is hard for that reason, people often feel guilty for their situation or depressed that they aren’t “roughing it” more. I have learned this the hard way.

Being the first PCV Outjo has ever seen and one of the few volunteers that have ever (any organization) lived here I have a lot of ground-work to do. People need to get used to a volunteer from America for one and two they need to get use to a PCV, someone who not only wants to work here but live here, be apart of Outjo too. For the most part Outjo is separated in three areas: town, location and squatter areas. Town is largely white, wealthy people, location is the working black population and the squatter areas are people who have almost nothing. There are some black families in town and they are the wealthier ones, doctors, nurses, judicial people etc. It’s unlike a lot of Namibian towns/villages because it’s small but very developed. It’s also a tourism spot since it’s the south entrance to Etosha so there are lots of lodges around, stores, paved roads, bakeries and such which are not common in the rest of the towns in the Kunene Region. Often times it doesn’t even feel like you’re in Africa. My reasoning for painting a picture of Outjo is to understand that the location is very far away from town, in all aspects. Not only is the location less developed and full of shebeens (bars) it’s up a hill and rests on the plateau that rises above Outjo. You can’t see the location from town, you can only see the road up into it. Town and location are completely separated which was probably the purpose in the set up years ago during apartheid.

I live in town, well the outskirts. It kinda goes me (town on the side), the in-between area, location and then the hospital. Outjo is rumored to be an “unsafe place” in Namibia, so I am not allowed to walk around at night or around the squatters areas. I try to walk through the location as much as possible but each day I return to town and leave the community that I’m trying to integrate into behind. This has been hard, really hard. I am trying but it’s just frustrating, and well I get depressed. I wish I didn’t live in a big town where it’s so hard to meet everyone or anyone for that matter. I wish I lived in the location so people would see that I’m here to live with them rather than just to come in for health functions and what not. I wish my language skills were getting better but town speaks a different language English and Afrikaans than the location (Damara) so I sort of don’t speak any language but a smile.

The feeling of being useless at work is just magnified when everything outside of work is also slow moving. Needless to say I got in a funk and well it was hard to get out of it. Of course once I started feeling better physically and was able to get back out in the community and walking around my attitude began improving. There are somethings I was prepared to struggle with but the feeling of complete uselessness and isolation from the community I’m trying to integrate into weren’t them.

So why my pointless venting, why share with anyone reading my blog about the trouble coping in Outjo. Some people have commented to me that the PC life looks tough (sarcastically) because of pictures or stories I’ve posted on facebook and this blog of my living arrangement and my recent vacation. They are right. First, I don’t take pictures of my time in the location, squatter areas or out in the bush. These are people, not a scene out of National Geographic and I am not going to put them on display. For many the only white person they have come in contact with is a tourist and I’m trying to give them a different view so I keep my camera for fun times with other PCVs of my co-workers children. Second, I’m hardly living the hard life but that in and of itself brings on a whole new set of difficulties. Trust me though, not a day goes by that this is “easy” and if I need a nice vacation to bring back some normalcy to my life or recharge my mental state well so be it, luckily I live in a beautiful country where that is always a possibility…basically, if you aren’t here, you don’t get to judge.

my first Namibian/American vacation

2008-03-31T10:14:00.000-07:00

One good thing that comes from an upper intestine virus is that you have time (when you are awake) to update your blog. Yes, I am at home on doctor ordered bed rest for three days (I have already been at home sleeping for two so five might kill me from boredom). At least I finally have time to write about my first Namibian vacation, which I enjoyed Easter weekend in Swakopmund.

**(note I’m writing this on a lot of drowsy meds and did not bother to think while writing or proof read it, so sorry)

Thursday night:
Jill and Juice arrive from their sites and we enjoyed some of Jill’s homemade cookin’ and a ton of Reece cups that I received from Nikki in a care package. When I say a bunch I literally mean a bunch. I think each of us had a minimum of 12 cups. Needless to say we were on an extreme sugar high for the entire night where we took silly pictures and made them into a slide show that we enjoyed shortly after. Not only was it just great to see friends but to have some of American goodness was just another treat. Of course it’s a “you had to be there moment” but it was such a great night. Staying up late talking/catching up, eating junk and laughing for hours.
Friday:
Jill, Juice, Ghada (the VSO from Outjo) and myself set out for Swakopmund early in the morning. Jill and Juice had made some mixed CDs that we jammed to during the 3.5-hour car ride. It was just like being on a road trip with old friends. It was nice to be traveling in Namibia for once where we could enjoy a safe and sober driver (Ghada), seat belts, not worrying about hiking to the next point and American music not Damara hymns. As we traveled from the Kunene Region to Swakop the scenery drastically began to change. It became less green and the rolling hills turned into large mountains and then finally the last hour of the drive a barren desert. Seriously it’s like you are driving into the dead zone, there are not shrubs, no trees, just sand.
From the moment we drove into Swakop we were in awe. The palm trees, the stores, the smell of the ocean, it was like we had entered an entirely different country. It’s like a little Germany or little America, nothing like the rest of Namibia, probably the reason everyone holidays there. There are tons of restaurants, shops a movie theater; I mean it’s amazing!!! After checking into our hostel Juice and I changed into our swim gear and headed straight to the beach. There is one thing two ex-polo players had been missing in the last five months, swimming. Both of us being from California going to the beach was literally like going home. I never thought I was a California beach bum but I gotta tell you when I saw the ocean I had never been happier. I couldn’t stop running until the cold Atlantic was all around me. The water was super salty and really dirty but I loved every minute in it. At one point Juice started to yell at me to bring my attention to someone walking near our stranded stuff on the beach and forgetting I was in the ocean I got wiped out by a huge wave. I hadn’t been spun like that in such a long time. At once point I didn’t know where I was or what direction was up. I had to open my eyes to see which way the bubbles were going so I could find my way to the top so I can get some air. After a short breathe I got hit again. Our stuff was fine but I was all shaken up and caught in some seriously seaweed and a strong under current. Once I finally got a handle on the situation I was able to enjoy the ocean’s waves again but I’m still in shock that I let the ocean get the best of me, I mean I’m a swimmer for goodness sakes.
The four of us set out to eat a “real” meal not consisting of goat meat. Swakop has a nice little promenade with restaurants along the ocean and so my lunch/dinner of Oreo milkshakes and pizza was made perfect with the sound of the ocean. After eating I found the rest of my Nam27 friends (yes we took over Swakop that weekend). They had all been there for at least a day and their sunburns proved that they too had been enjoying the beach life.
Later that night we all (like 25 Nam27ers) took over a pub and began to dance the night away. The place was so crowded it felt like a sauna. Jill, Juice and I left and walked around the town. It was freezing in Swakop, which was a wonderful break from the normal hot temp. It was fabulous to see everyone at the pub but after a few minutes I was just overwhelmed and hot and well I just had to get out. It’s funny that out of all the Nam27ers I see Jill the most and even on vacation we spent almost all our time together. After our evening walk the three of us headed back to the hostel to curl up under the blankets and once again stayed up all night talking, the rest of friends staying with us came home super late but luckily we were still up to hear how the rest of the night pub hoping had went.
Saturday:
7am wide awake. Downfall of being a PC volunteer, you never sleep past 7am even when you try. I was determined to walk to the dunes, which are on the outskirts of town. Ever since I found out I was coming to Namibia I have had this crazy idea of sliding down a dune. Normally I’m the one with an excellent sense of direction but after taking Jill on a two hour walk into nowhere land we decided to head back to have breakfast and get ready for our next adventure…
Five of us decided to go skydiving, even though none of us can afford it on PC salaries. First they drive us off into the middle of nowhere, seriously. We were out in the middle of the desert and like a mirage a building complex appears and the car stops. All I could think was if they wanted to kill us they could, no one could find us-or help us. After signing our lives away and getting our instructions we loaded up into another van and the drove us further into no mans land to a tent. I took a picture of the 360-degree view of nothing, well sand. It’s crazy, the tent shaded all the workers who were packing the parachutes and well all around us was the “air strip”. After loading into the world’s smallest plane we (Jill and Rach went first and Juice, Betsy and I went second) flew above 10,000 feet were the view was beautiful, the ocean and sand dunes, AMAZING. Although this was my second time skydiving this time was so much cooler, the view, the instructors, everything was fabulous and my instructor let me fly, so cool.
Once we returned to civilization we met up with all the rest of our friends and went to a movie. It was so nice to feel normal again. The movie was not good but it was nice to enjoy the bad movie with all my friends. Everyone else went out pub hoping again that night but me, Jill, Rachel, Juice, Colleen, Aly, Natalie, Ghada grabbed a bite to eat at just enjoyed walking around. Most of us came home early, one because it was SO cold and two because we had an early morning to prepare for.
Sunday:
Easter morning, Juice, Aly, Jill and myself left at 6:45 in the morning to head to Walvisbay for a kayak trip. Our instructor was driving us on a large sand bank/peninsula called Pelican point. He pointed out all the wildlife we were seeing and points of interest knowing it was our first trip to Walvis. We kayaked in the lagoon and then out into the ocean to try to see some dolphins. I was amazed at how many seals and dolphins we saw. When they told us is was a guarantee to see seals I thought they were being a little cocky but my goodness I like we saw a couple thousand and not from a distance they were all around us. It was wonderful, it was like playing with the seals. Instead of an Easter egg hunt my friends and I went on a dolphin hunt. One of us would see a dolphin and we’d all paddle as hard as we could to try to get it to swim with us and play with us. Ah, it was so beautiful, a blue ocean, sand dunes as far as the eye can see on land and seals and flamingos everywhere. Skydiving was fun but this was a total different type of high or beauty. I’m so glad I did it, seriously one of the best things I’ve ever done. I can’t wait to do it again in June with my parents and in June there is a chance we will see whales!!!
Dinner was another great western meal topped off with soft serve, but after the weekend of such adrenaline rushes I was ready to sleep and regain my energy.
Monday:
We had been too tired and busy the previous nights to try to watch the sunset from the dunes but Monday Juice, Rach, Colleen and I got up early and walked out to the dunes in the dark to try to watch the sunrise. Swakop is covered by fog most of the day and well we never saw the sun actually rise but from the dunes we saw the sky change color, ha-ha. Silly idea but it was worth waking up early because just before we headed home Rachel and I went jumping down some dunes, weekend complete.
Yeah, a lot of people have given my a hard time about my weekend, saying oh didn’t know PC was so “rough” and what not. Being away from everything you know as normal for 5 months, missing every major holiday with your family, and being stuck at your site for months without seeing your friends is hard and without a vacation one might just lose it. Although that vacation was a break from reality it was so needed. At the end not only was I recharged and but I was dying to get home to Outjo.

Under Orion's belt

2008-03-09T05:56:00.000-07:00

Two-month anniversary, yes I have been in Outjo for two months, where has the time gone? Two months and what have I got to show for it, no real purpose defined, no job description/function, no real community integration and my language skills in Damara and English have not improved but actually decreased. Seriously, what am I doing here, I need to get my act together. Two months and I don’t really feel like I have anything to show for it, it’s like I’ve wasted the last two months.
So let me share how I spent my exciting two-month anniversary of being a Peace Corps volunteer in Outjo…it was just another typical day…
First, I actually got to sleep in. Ok, slept in until 8. This is the latest I’ve slept since coming to Namibia. It probably has something to do with the fact that I couldn’t sleep the night before and didn’t actually fall asleep until after midnight, more than three hours past my bedtime. After waking up and surfing Facebook for a while I decided to go for my morning run. Because I was in such a fabulous mood I decided to go for an extra long run. It was fabulous. The only downfall was the cloudy morning I started running in faded. The sun seemed to peak through the clouds and no matter where I was running the sun decided to shine directly on me. Even in the morning, even on a cloudy day the Namibian sun is hot.
When I returned from my run I grabbed some breakfast and headed into town. In Namibia everything closes at 1 on Saturdays so I had only a small window to run to PEP to get more phone credit, the building store to get a hammer and nails, the post office to send a package to my Caprivi friends and to the grocery store if I wanted to eat this weekend. After strolling through town I returned home in hopes to improve my current bed net situation. My ceilings are super high and my walls are cement so I couldn’t really put my net up comfortably. It’s up against my windows because I needed the window latches to hold the net up. This means that as I sleep the net hugs the bed and in turn me, and in order for me not to touch the net in the night I sleep as straight as a pin in the middle. It’s really not comfortable and well if I’m going to be here for two years I might as well attempt to put this thing up right. So anyways, after adding two nails to bring the net away from the window I was stopped in my attempts as one of the elderly who live in my Old Age Home can and yelled at me for a good ten minutes. Apparently people are sleeping at 1:04 in the afternoon. I told her I was trying to get it done before 2 because that’s when I figured people would be taking their naps. She continued to ream into me about stupid crap and disregarded my question “When would be a better time to hammer?” Silly woman, seriously, as mean as she wanted to be she can’t get rid of me, the hospital and the government own the building-not her.
After that fun event I attempted to clean my apartment while watching RENT. Gosh what I would kill for a vacuum. Instead it took two hours to sweep my carpet with a hand broom. It was seriously the most disgusting thing I’ve done thus far. There was so much dirt and dead bugs, ew, I just felt gross afterwards. Then I attempted to clean my bathroom where the ants have taken over. After dooming (bug killer) the room there was a thick layer of ants with bees, wasps, beetles and moths in the mix. Ugh, seriously the grossest (is that a word?) day yet in Africa. It was really defeating since when I woke up this morning the dead moths are back on my bedroom carpet and well the ants have returned to the bathroom with a vengeance. I’ve decided to attempt to doom the outside of my bathroom (did I mention I’m on the second floor). Ha, maybe that will make the old woman come yell at me again, oh well.
After my horrible cleaning day…seriously 4 hours and only two rooms clean, in America I could clean a whole house in that time, I decided to go exploring in the bush surrounding Outjo. It was seriously so much fun until the weather quickly changed as soon as I was an hour out of town. As I attempted to get home in the massive storm I learned that you should never go exploring in the rain without the proper shoes. After a scary fall from some rocks I thought, maybe it’s best to just get home and stop goofing around. Wow, what a cold walk home. The crazy wind and the rain were so chilling. Maybe just the coldest I’ve been in Namibia. Luckily I live in a town, because there were quite a few times I got a little lost and with the storm it was hard to see the mountains and find my location, but the street lights helped guide me home. I got home soaking wet, freezing, legs bleeding and so tired, but gosh it was a great little adventure.
After dinner the storm passed and I went for an evening run. The clouds parted and after I finished stretching I just laid out under the stars, gazing off into la-la land. I was directly under Orion’s belt. The stars were so beautiful. I started thinking about the last four months, being in the Peace Corps, the fact that I’m in Africa starring at the stars, my family and friends who are half way around the world from me and what I’m going to do with the rest of my service and the rest of my life for that matter and well I decided to let everything go and just enjoy the moment under Orion’s belt just for what it was, a beautiful peace.
I laid there for awhile, I was just caught in a perfect moment. I didn’t even mind the bugs which were eating me alive, or the snakes which could have been making their way towards me, I just was…sometimes that’s all you can do is just be in the moment. Maybe it’s this Taoism book I’m reading finally getting to the best of me but it was just great to block everything out and just focus on Orion.
Oh just to update you, the little change to my bed net-LIFE CHANGING! It’s like a whole new bed, a whole new life, it’s amazing and wow I slept so great last night. And some of you may be thinking wow Amanda you are so active now, running, hiking, yes, yes I have become somewhat of an outdoors junkie. But don’t fret no matter how many runs or walks I go on I’m not losing any weight, it’s hard to lose weight when you eat peanut butter on everything, gosh I love that stuff. Well hopefully this week I will be doing the outreach that got cancelled last week and if so maybe I will have fun stories to share, if not another week of trying to find stuff for me to do, trying to find my place and how I can help in this town, oh Namibia, oh Peace Corps, oh my life!

gosh this a slow slow, SLOW day/week

2008-03-03T23:46:00.001-08:00

In the four months I have been in Namibia I have learned that there are many things that I can tolerate and yet little things which really annoy me. For example I can tolerate the odd looks from the community, begging children, no having a clue what to do with eight hours of “work” a day, the power going out at random times, the million marriage proposals, transport problems always causing outreach to be cancelled, Namibian time, Himba boobies everywhere I look, the constant bugs in my flat and feeling useless 90% of the time. These are things have become the norm to me and I no longer really think twice about this stuff. But today as I walked to work, walked because I missed my ride cause well I just wanted a little bit more sleep and knew I would be doing nothing at work today anyway, so anyways, I was walking to work and I realized I hate flies. I hate flies almost as much as I hate ants. The thing about Namibia is if you are walking in the morning you get completely covered in flies. I normally only experience this on outreach days (like my week in Kamanjab) but really today as I was trying to swoosh the flies off me I remembered the hell of Kamanjab mornings and outreach trips in Outjo. I feel like a horse, and I’m surprised more horses don’t try to kill themselves. Seriously for about 10 minutes I try to move my head, wave my arms, do a little dance but the flies keep coming back. After 10 minutes I just deal with the flies crawling all over me (ew including my face and all around my mouth and eyes) and think ah, I hate flies. What is their purpose and why do they like me so much? So after four months serving as a PCV the only thing I realized I really can’t stand but tolerate because I don’t have any other choice is … flies. Is that bad? Shouldn’t I be doing a lot more personal growth, flies, that’s all I’ve discovered…wow.

Dear PCMO and staff,
I got my medications finally. You rock! Guess I won’t die from an asthma attack for the next four months as you gave me a huge supply. Thanks, I will stop calling and smsing you now.
Grateful,
Dar

God is great

2008-02-27T01:33:00.000-08:00

Words cannot really describe last night’s sunset. I walked out of the elderly home and just casually looked to my left towards Otjiwarongo and literally had to catch my breath. It was so beautiful and I couldn’t look away. As I walked to the end of the road to get a better view I just stood there in awe. There were two huge yet perfect dark purple clouds joining at the bottom by a thin line. Behind the purple clouds the sky was the brightest pink and orange I have ever seen. Seriously, amazing in color. So deep, so rich. Right at the tip of the mountains and below the line connecting the purple clouds was a faint yellow ball. The yellow from the sun was really overshadowed and overpowered by the pink and orange in the sky. You could easily miss the sun if you were not starring as I was. To make the sunset even more fabulous there was a lightening storm in the purple clouds around the sunset, so for the 10 minutes I stood there I would see bolts of white light move through the clouds or the entire cloud would light up. Gosh it was so amazing.

For a moment time stood still. I just stood in awe, thinking how majestic, how wonderful, and how blessed I am to have been a witness to the most beautiful Namibian sunset. Don’t get me wrong every night here God does a magnificent show but last night, ah, last night He really out did Himself. I wish I had a camera that could have really captured the beauty of last night, or maybe if I was a skilled painter, this sunset beat anything Van Gogh or Monet or anyone has done thus far in terms of use of color. It was seriously one of the best moments of my life, so simple, so pure. In that moment I knew: one, that God exists, that He loves me very much and that yes, I am exactly where I am suppose to be. All that in a sunset you might ask, yes all that in a sunset, it was just that powerful. Like I said no words could really convey the beauty of the sunset but I thought I had to at least share with you just how amazing God’s creation can be. It was seriously the most beautiful night yet in Outjo, gosh God is great.

another day in Outjo

2008-02-24T22:30:00.000-08:00

Oh, I love Namibia. This morning I woke up bright and early for my morning run and I got to enjoy the most beautiful sunrise over the Location. As I run up the hill perpendicular to the old age home (where I live) I could see the clouds lift over town and off in the distance fog is nestled in the valley created by all the hills surrounding Outjo. It was so beautiful. The sky a deep pink color with bright orange streaks. Seriously, a great way to start off the week. I love Namibia, I love Outjo.

Dear Namibian Rain,

Thank you so much for returning to Outjo. I was really beginning to miss your face. It has been so hot and all I want to do is run in the rain again. I know this is rainy season so why did you leave me so quickly. I enjoy your thunder and lightening storms and the way the clouds look as you fall. I really wish you intend to stay for awhile but the morning clear blue skies has me thinking you have found another place to go. Seriously come back, I miss you, I need you. I promise to be good to you, to enjoy every moment, even when the electricity goes out, JUST COME BACK! Please stay until winter.

Longing for your love,
Dar

Dear Funky Bump on my finger,

What the heck are you, where did you come from and how do I get you to leave? I really wish you would just go away, stop hurting and really, really stop growing. I would look in my med kit for some magical cure if I only knew what the heck you were. I can help but scratch and pick at you cause I find you so intriguing but now I fear you might get infected if you don't heal soon. You are driving me up the wall, please leave and never return.

Really Annoyed,
Dar

oh heck yes I did!!!!

2008-02-24T04:11:00.001-08:00

So boredom has kicked in and well I have no desire to clean my apartment when I will be leaving for a week again. Instead, I have straightened my hair and put make-up on. Hot date? No, I am actually going to wash my face and put my hair in a pony tail and go for a hike alone. Sometimes you just need to feel like a girl, even in Africa.

Kamanjab

2008-02-23T00:53:00.000-08:00

This week I spent a few days in Kamanjab, a small village/town in our district. Our outreach team did school visits to the primary school in the location and the combined school in town. One a few different occasions I was wondering through the bush on a little dirt path from the clinic to the different schools. I was walking with an ice chest of vaccines strapped to my back, needles in one hand, syringes in the other hand, wearing a long skirt, Chacos, glasses (cause I can’t wear contacts in the bush), with my hair in a braid enjoying the wilderness under the bright, bright sun and I started laughing - I was a perfect picture of the stereotypical American aid worker in Africa.
In Kamanjab I actually got to do something useful. I gave general hygiene talks (hand washing) and dental care instructions and demonstrations to grades 1-3. At the primary school in the location the Principal had everyone prepared so the students had brought their toothbrushes (those that have them) so we got to all brush our teeth together, it was really cute. So, yeah, I brushed my teeth at least four times each morning before lunch had come around. For the older kids we had a sexual/reproductive health talk with the girls, there is definitely room for improvement in this area for our outreach team, but hey it was the first time. We also gave all the 10 year olds, DP and polio boosters and the 15 year old girls got a tetanus shot….it was actually a really productive time in Kamanjab. Now I just have hit up every other school in the district, at least I’m doing something now.
So I’m home for the weekend (so glad to have my toilet again) and on Monday I will head out again but this time for outreach to the farms around Kamanjab. I have no idea what we will be doing and more importantly what I will be doing. It’s hard to give health education at the farms cause well my Damara/Nama is not up to par yet and I don’t speak any other language that is of use. Seriously I need to be more committed to my language development.
This week in Kamanjab I got to do a lot of exploration with my coworkers. It was really great. I was determined to find an elephant and my coworkers just wanted me not to kill myself in my efforts. Kamanjab is a gorgeous place, boring but so beautiful. It was so great to do some rock climbing (Gideon and I had a challenge on each rock, he won almost every time but to my credit I was wearing a skirt that got in the way), hiking and just to hangout with Namibians my own age. It was seriously a great week, but gosh I’m so glad to be back in Outjo.

lessons learned in the last 48 hours...

2008-02-18T01:24:00.000-08:00

1. Never go grocery shopping when you are starving and about to go into the bush for two weeks, you will spend an ungodly amount of money (money which you do not actually have in the PC)

2. Never complain about not having anything to do because you will be shocked with the jobs you are given there after. Today I was in charge of fixing our computer's internet (I know nothing about computers, especially things that aren't Mac) and then I was dropped of at the local primary school to give health education....on what?????? so i walked in to 65 smiling faces (grades 1 and 4) and just laughed my way through a talk on hand washing and brushing your teeth...hope that's what I was suppose to talk about

3. Never assume just cause you were dropped off for a work function that you will be picked up, I really appreciated sitting on the corner waiting to recognize anyone who would be driving to the hospital, I wanted to walk but my counterpart refused

4. Once you question where the "other" computers in your hospital are that the Regional Medical Officer assures you are in use somewhere (although you have searched high and low in all of your hospital grounds and couldn't find the computers in question) they will magically show up in your office, with a new printer....hm....how did that happen and where did it come from

5. Never assume you know what is in your PC med kit, actually look through it weekly cause you'll forget what the great PCMOs have provided for you, I have been trying my best not to scratch my skin off that is covered in bug bites and last night I found two different sets of anti-itch bug bite cream in my med kit, whoops my bad, i guess that would've been helpful

I FOUND LOVE IN NAMIBIA!!!!

2008-02-16T22:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Bed Net,

How do I love thee, let me count the ways. I never thought I could find a love like this. You are so safe, comforting, and always there for me. Just know I am in this relationship for the long run, I’m totally committed. Please tell me you feel the same way.

Looking forward to our date tonight,
Dar

oh life...

2008-02-16T04:39:00.000-08:00

So I would like to thank PC for this experience. My standards of…well life have changed drastically. In the states when eating fruit I would probably throw away rotten fruit, say apples, bananas and pears, but due to the lack of fruit available in the country and the well abundance of money I make as a PCV, I have totally abandoned my previous ways of thinking. Today for instance I was holding a completely rotten apple and thought this is really really not good but instead - I ate it…all. This is not the first time I’ve done this so I am not really shocked that I did it but I was shocked that afterwards I grabbed the rotten pear and ate that too and well this is normal. Lack of money and well once I spend money on food, no matter what I gotta eat it, including moldy bread, bad milk and cheese, meat/fish/chicken that has thawed/been frozen again/thawed/frozen and finally just left out and things you buy thinking it’s going to be something totally different than what it turns out to be…all this I eat with a smile and think…this is my life?

I thought PC would open me up to new foods and I would finally learn how to cook but instead I remain a picky eater just with lower standards of food quality and sanitation. I embrace the PB&J sandwich as a staple meal for me and all bran/high fiber cereals as a necessity. Also, soda is a luxury I can no longer afford so water, water and more water is all I drink. I guess it’s good to finally cut down on the sugar and get a little healthy.

So while in Opuwo this week I slept on the floor of my friend’s living room with the windows open because they don’t shut and did I mention Opuwo is in the prime malaria region and it’s rainy season. My body (yes entire body) looks like I have a rash or the chicken pox. I am covered in bites and they itch soooooooo bad, thanks Opuwo, I’m in a real hurry to return.
Today I will suffer the wonderful car ride back to Outjo, this time I’m hoping we can actually make the 3 hour trip in half a day and that my life won’t flash before my eyes every few seconds. It would be great to see some more giraffes (saw 10 up close on the ride here) but I will take no animals for a safe and short trip….oh transportation in Namibia.

I’m convinced after this week that boths (bird-moths) have the ability for advanced skills, like typing. Last night on a few different occasions a both continued to pound on my computer keyboard, maybe it was wanting to write and email, either way better it was me out in that living room than Jill.

Dear Hospital Driver,
Please, please, please attempt to drive the speed limit today. On paved roads it’s totally ok to put your foot on the gas and not ride the break for the entire 5 hour car ride and on dirt roads lowering your speed limit is usually appropriate. At least one hand on the wheel would be greatly appreciated. Also, when in town and there are ten million children running around the roads please do no drive 160km/h, it’s just not right and scares the sh*t out of me. One last thing cows are not the same as bushes, you cannot drive through them as easily. I look forward to this fun/wanna kill myself experience today. It’s amazing that 300km takes 6-12 hours to actually complete but I guess I have become painfully aware that TIN.

Hoping not to die today,
Amandar

oh the things that pass the time Feb. 10 journal entry

2008-02-13T23:52:00.000-08:00

So I ask, which would have been easier change my sandals because they are digging into my skin and causing my foot to bleed or take apart my medical kit and do a minor surgical procedure on my foot, cover my foot in bandages afterwards and place the same sandal back on? I chose the second option because 1) I really like these sandals and 2) my ride to Opuwo is four hours late and I needed something to occupy my time - haha THIS IS MY LIFE!

Hi, and welcome to my blog spot. Just so everyone knows there is no editing done so I apologize for misspellings and grammatical errors (Jill will always point them out to me, thanks Nam sis). There is no purpose to this blog just the thoughts of the moment of stories from the the mundane moments that occupy the days of my 26 month service in Namibia.

The other day during my morning jog I came across some a section of road that was covered in brown leaves. Wow I thought, the leaves fall here too. As I approached the area I discovered it wasn't leaves but thousands of dead moths stuck to the road by at least one wing. Odd one would say how can you mistake a moth for a leaf. Well in Namibia moths are more like small birds normally the size of my hand or my face and they are in shades of brown, orange and red - hence the mixup.

Today I ate moldy bread. The VSO said ew and told me to throw it away but I thought this looks like such a delicious PB&J sandwich and I'm in Africa so I shouldn't waste food and well PC doesn't pay me enough not to eat my moldy bread...I hope I don't get a stomach ache. *side note I was still eating that same loaf of moldy bread for the next three days until I couldn't deny that my bread was indeed all green and not brown....I like to think this is one of the many things that separate PCVs from VSOs...WE are hard core!!!