Namibia

Wa lala po?! (This is the extent of the Oshiwambo (sp?) that I learned in Namibia, and means "how are you?!")

During the three week break between the end of the second quarter and the winter session, I again threw my passport and some clothes in a bag and headed out for unknown territories, and again it was a wonderful, once in a lifetime, amazing experience. This time my destination was Namibia, a country just above South Africa on the west coast. My friend Briana is volunteering there with the Peace Corps for two years.

While I may have thought that the bus ride to Zimbabwe was the longest trip ever, this trip made that one seem like a pleasure cruise. It included an 8 hour bus ride from Durban to Johannesburg, a 22 hour (which actually ended up being more like 26 hours) ride from Jo’burg to Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. From there I hopped in a mini bus taxi for an eight hour ride up to Ongwediva, a town in northern Namibia where I met up with Briana.

I’ve discovered that I have a 36 hour travel tolerance. Up until the 36th hour, I find the journey novel and exciting and bask in the assertion of my independence and sense of adventure. When people along the way ask “aren’t you scared to be traveling in Namibia alone?!” I answer with an emphatic “No!” because in all honesty the thought that I should be scared never even crossed my mind (things tend to work out for me… perhaps I have an invincibility complex that I need to think about). After the 36 hour mark hits, however, something changes and suddenly my legs feel cramped and my butt is tired of sitting. I have to pee and I’m hungry (keep in mind all I’d eaten had been what could be purchased at gas stations along the way) and the sun is setting, which means I’ll reach an unknown town somewhere in Northern Namibia in the dark. The mini bus taxi is starting to smell and is quite stuffy as people begin closing their windows to keep out the cool evening air. So at hour 36, all of a sudden this traveling adventure stops being fun and I want to be done. Fortunately, I arrived safely at Ongwediva shortly after dark and met up with Briana with no complications.

To say that it was great seeing Briana would be a huge understatement. After not seeing any friends or family from home over the last five and a half months it was great to catch up with her and to share our respective experiences. It was also very nice to hang out with the other Peace Corps volunteers because up until this point I haven’t really socialized with any Americans at all, which both has its benefits and its drawbacks. While it’s great making friends with people from diverse cultures and backgrounds, sometimes you want to be with someone who understands better where you’re coming from and how you experience new things, if that makes sense. Let’s just say it was great to hear some American accents in person rather than over the phone for a change.

After spending the weekend in Ongwediva, which included watching Briana’s stellar dance performance in the World Music Day festivities in a nearby town, Oshakati, and visiting various other volunteers in the area, Briana and I hopped into the back of a pick-up truck and headed into the bush to her homestead. She lives with a retired teacher, her niece, and her niece’s two year old daughter. In the spirit of African hospitality, they warmly welcomed me into their homestead and were wonderful hostesses for the week. Briana has two huts for herself on the homestead (one serves as a kitchen, the other as a bedroom), and although the homestead has no electricity, the Namibian Ministry of Education hooked her up with some gas powered electricity so she can have a refrigerator and stove.

To be honest, spending time in a village in the Namibian bush where there is no electricity or running water made me feel sort of like I am skimping out on the whole “African” experience by being in Durban, a very western city with all of the luxuries that I enjoy back home. And while at times it made me wish that I was volunteering in a more rural area rather than studying and living in a westernized city, I also realize the incredible value of the learning experience that I am receiving in Durban, both in the classroom and outside. And to be completely honest, I don’t know if I could handle two years of bucket bathing and cooking by candlelight, so props to you Briana!

During the week I went to the school where Briana teaches English to 8th and 9th graders, which was a great experience. I was able to attend some of the classes taught both by Briana and by another teacher who taught geography and life skills. In both classes I was impressed by the questions that students directed toward me and by their interest in American lifestyle. While some of the questions (concerning my marital status and age) just made me laugh (especially when I said that I was 23 and everyone nudged a male student who looked far too old to be in the 10th grade, apparently indicating that he had a chance with me), other questions such as “why is America considered developed while Namibia is underdeveloped?” and “Do you have AIDS in America and why isn’t it as bad as here?” really made me stop and think.

I spent most of the week hanging out in the library that Briana is in charge of running. I think the funniest part of the whole experience was the fascination of the students, particularly the younger ones, at the fact that there were now not only one, but TWO Americans at the school. During breaks, the younger students would all gather at the door of the library or peer in the window, just to observe us interacting and talking to each other. And if we addressed them, saying “hi, how are you?” they would all run away, screaming and laughing as though we had said the funniest thing they had ever heard.

And so I spent a week in the bush, waking early (usually very early because I had to pee so bad but we weren’t allowed to use the latrine at night because it was outside of the borders of the homestead and there was a risk of getting bitten by a snake), spending the day at school, then returning to the homestead to read and relax until the sun went down at about 5:30, at which point Briana and I would make dinner, then go to bed pretty early so that we would be well rested to do it all over again the next day. While this may not be the ideal vacation for many people, it certainly was for me. In fact I would rank it among the best trips I’ve ever taken. I loved escaping from the hustle and bustle of every day life, not having access to internet or use of my cell phone. The silence of the star filled nights was incredibly peaceful and beautiful. It was great to step back half way through my time in South Africa, and have a chance to reflect on the experience so far, especially since I had the added benefits of Briana’s experiences and insights. By the end of the week, I was very sad to say goodbye to Briana, her host family, fellow teachers, and students, and I don’t think I could ever express how much of an impact they had on me.

My second weekend in Namibia, Briana and I went to the homestead that Holly, another Peace Corps volunteer, lives at to celebrate her birthday. It was great to get to visit another family and to share in the celebrations, which of course included a traditional Namibian dinner (although I am no longer a vegetarian, I still have trouble eating goat, particularly freshly slaughtered goat that still has some random hairs on it), some beer, and some dancing. All round, a great night and a great way to end my visit to Namibia.

On Monday, I hopped back into a mini bus taxi to return to Windhoek. This time, however, I flew back to Durban rather than experiencing the glory of another 26+ hour bus ride. The only sketchy part of the journey back was when I arrived in Windhoek after dark and had to figure out how to get to a youth hostel, which was made more complicated by the fact that the first two youth hostels I visited were fully booked. So picture me standing on the side of the street with a big bag of luggage next to me, in a city that is completely foreign to me trying to wave down a taxi. Fortunately, a kind taxi driver took me under his wing and made sure that I arrived safely at a youth hostel with vacancies.

I was actually very impressed by the kindness of strangers who I met along the way. For example, the man I sat next to on the bus ride from Jo’burg to Windhoek made sure that I safely got on a taxi from Windhoek to Ongwediva and than made me promise to call once I got there so he knew that I was safe. And then there was the kindness and hospitality both of Briana’s family, and of other volunteers who welcomed me into their homes on the weekends. I think that when I look back at my time here in retrospect, what will stick out most in my memory will be the many people who have entered my life while I’ve been here, whether it be those who enter only briefly or those who I am certain will always be a part of my life. If for nothing else, I believe that this experience has been so important and transformative because of the people I have met along the way. As a friend recently wrote to me in a letter, perhaps the most important thing that we can do (in any situation, not just in my situation) is to spread love and joy everywhere that we go, with everyone we encounter. It may sound cheesy, but it’s true. It’s the connections that you make along the way that make the journey so incredible.