Rundu

Hello All.  Just a quick update.  Our permanent sites were announced last week.  My assignment is exactly what I was hoping for.  I’ll be able to pursue some small business development and entrepreneurship projects as well as my primary health-related projects.  My site will be the city of Rundu, which is the largest city in the Kavango region.  I’ll be attached to the Ministry of Youth.  My office will be at the Rundu multipurpose youth resource center.  The supervisor of the center would like to expand the center’s offerings over the next year to include computer training, business and entrepreneurship training, a garden club, and a small car wash to generate revenue for the center.  Though the center has the word “youth” in its title, its target age group for intervention, support, and training is 16 and 35 years old.      

Some of the issues the youth center tries to address here are HIV/AIDS, teen pregnancy, promotion of healthy gender roles, and unemployment.  I’ll facilitate various clubs and health initiatives targeting city youth and younger adults.  I’m also going to be teaching basic business and entrepreneurship skills.  I’ll be able to use the carwash project to bring a group of teens and young adults through all the steps from planning, construction, start up, book keeping, marketing, money management and expense planning.  It’ll be a very small car wash, but it will be large enough to generate some money for the youth center and to teach some people basic business start up and management skills. 

My living arrangements here will definitely not be quintessential peace corps digs.  I’ll be living in an apartment with another volunteer.  In contrast, one of the other volunteers in Kavango is living in a mud hut.  Her bathroom is a pit latrine (hole in the ground) across the street, and her bathtub is the Kavango River.   Another volunteer had caterpillars and sour milk for dinner last night.  I feel a bit guilty for having such modern accommodations, but I’m also in an area that has a lot of people in need of support and where my professional experience and health training can be put to good use.  To be clear, the term “modern accommodations” has a different meaning here than in the states.  My baths are cold-water bucket baths and my cooking area is a hot plate and a toaster oven.  Still, it’s way more than most PCVs get. 

I’ll spend the next few days in Rundu meeting some of the city leaders, including the governor and mayor (they have both here).  Today, I met the Rundu HIV/AIDS outreach and education coordinator as well as the director of the local New Starts, which is the HIV/AIDS testing and counseling facility, both of which I will coordinate with on various city health initiatives.  I sat in on a USAID/NawaLife Trust meeting regarding a four year plan to coordinate multiple HIV/AIDS organizations throughout Namibia in order to more efficiently and effectively pursue their shared goals.  I also sat in on a few of the youth club meetings.  This morning I was working with some teens in one of our clubs on a proposal for a performance they will be giving in two weeks.  They’ll be paid for the performance, but were unsure how to go about negotiating a price.  So, I gave them a quick Negotiations 101 lesson, which was fun.  When we were done chatting I asked for whom the performance would be for.  They said “The President”.  I asked, “president of what?”  They said “Namibia”.   

A bit about Rundu; Rundu is on the Kavango river.  The other side of the river is Angola, which Americans are not allowed to visit.  It’s flat savannah.  The riverfront is beautiful (my camera is in Omaruru, so you’ll have to wait for some photos of Rundu).  Everybody seems to know that the town is growing, but nobody knows why or how many people are actually here.  Based on dead reckoning, I would say much of the development is government funded.  There are a lot of people who are here working on various construction projects and they also get a lot of people coming in from Angola to shop at the markets.  The river is full of crocodiles and hippopotamuses (the Rundu petting zoo sucks).  I asked a local if people fish in the river.  He said “yes, you can fish, but then something is also fishing for you”.  I’ll stick to running. 

My diet is preposterously poor.  Namibians love meat, carbs, salt, sugar, and fat.  To a Namibian, green leafy vegetables are things of horror.  Corn, carrots, onions, and tomatoes are about it for them.  I’m certain I’ve consumed more salt in the last month than I did in all of 2011.  As I’ve spent my entire time in Namibia so far as somebody’s guest, I don’t have a lot of control over my diet.  I eat bread and butter for breakfast.  My lunch and dinner are typical Namibian combinations fat, salt, meat, and carbs.  They love “cool drinks” here, like coke.  In short, my diet is 100% different than what it was in the states.  I’m running about 30 miles a week, and I still managed to put on a couple pounds.  The scariest part is that I’m really starting to like it.  I’ll need major diet rehabilitation once I’m finally on my own. 

I’ll return to Omaruru on tomorrow to finish training followed by PCV swearing in on May 10^th.  After that, I’ll return to Rundu for my two-year assignment.  There are things I encounter here that I wish I could share, but that are just a bit too much for an open blog like this.  The poverty here, in some areas (particularly the unofficial settlements), is brutal and there’s no shortage of reminders of the suffering that poorer residents endure.  While some of the suffering seems self-inflicted (rampant alcohol abuse, for instance), it’s also easy to see how a sense of hopelessness might overwhelm some given the lack of opportunities to escape lifelong poverty.  I wonder how I’ll feel about my work here and its impact a year from now.   The peace corps is about capacity building and sustainability (in other words, train Namibians in the skills needed to help themselves to a better life).  They tell us to concentrate on small successes and remind us that it will sometimes be hard to see how we’re helping.  Change here occurs at a glacial pace.  A nudge in the right direction might be the best I can hope for.  Impacting a few lives so that they might have the skills to live a fuller life than they otherwise would have; I’m guessing, right now, that’s what I’m here for.

I’ll leave you with a few photos from Omaruru.  The ones with me in them were taken by my friends Christina and Pamela.  Thanks for reading.  I hope you are all well.    

Most of the gang (18 of 22)

If you read my last blog post, you know the history of the chicken in my hand.  

Omaruru

Hello All.   It’s taken a bit of effort to get a reliable internet connection, but I now have one that should be dependable through the end of my training.  I don’t have a lot of time, so this post is going to be more informative than entertaining.  

Some basics; I’m now a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT).  There are 22 people in my Peace Corps training group.  We met in Philly, made the 36 hour trip to Windhoek Namibia, spent about 4 days training in Windhoek, then were shipped to Omaruru where we are training now.  I moved in with a host family about two weeks ago (a couple and their 8 month old daughter).  They’re very nice and have been teaching me a lot about Namibian culture and cooking and other necessary skills such as manual clothes washing.  They also speak the language I am being trained in which is Rukwangali.  Rukwangali is the language of the Kavango region, which is in the North of Namibia on the border of Angola and where I will be assigned for my 2 years as a peace corps volunteer (PCV) once I complete training. 

My homestay is in an area known as “the location”.  The location is where all blacks were made to live during apartheid.  It’s safe during the day, but no volunteer is allowed out past 9:00 PM as the area can be unsafe after dark.  On my third night at my homestay, a drunk driver who had stolen a car crashed through my neighbor’s fence.  Binge drinking and drunk driving are big issues here. 

The family I’m living with has been wonderful.  The mother of the house, Josephine, has been great about teaching me how to cook Namibian dishes and practices language with me every night.  Today, she and two of her friends sat with me outside as I washed my clothes and helped me practice Rukwangali.  They all got a kick out of my screw-ups, but seemed impressed by my progress.  I still feel clueless, but I haven't been at it for long.  The father, John, also helps me practice language.  John is a town police officer, so I feel safe here at home.  There daughter, Anna, is a doll and easy to entertain.  It only took me a few days to feel completely comfortable with my new host family.

My days are busy.  My weekdays start with a 4 mile run at 5:30 AM with my PCT running partner, Pamela.  It’s cold here in the morning, which is great for running.  However, it’s still dark at that hour and the strange noises from the tall grass get your attention in a hurry.  Luckily, the clocks just fell back here today, so our runs will be a bit less spooky.  My training starts at 730 AM.  We have a couple hours of language followed by technical training on subjects like HIV/AIDS, Gender roles in Namibia, Cultural dos and don’ts, Malaria, volunteer safety, Namibian culture, and nutrition.  We wrap up training at 4:30.  I get home around 5, hang out with my host family for a bit, and then study from 6 until 7.  At 7, I start on dinner with my host mom.  Food prep is a longer process here than in the states.  There are typically a few stages and time to study in between.  So, I’m pretty much in the kitchen studying, cooking, eating, playing with Anna, or cleaning from 7PM until 9:30 PM.  By 945, I’m in bed and asleep nearly instantly.   

My weekends are almost as busy as my weekdays.  Yesterday we had a “cultural food day” where people representing the various larger ethnic groups of Namibia showed us how they prepare traditional food.  Since I’m going to be in Kavango, I helped the Kavango group with their food prep which included the slaughter a few chickens.  The process goes like this; you grab the neck just below the head firmly and pull the chicken down on its side, you then pin its legs to the ground with your foot, then you take a knife (preferably sharp) and slice open the throat.  The chicken flaps and shakes (even if the heads been removed) so you have to hold it down until the convulsions stop.  My chicken didn’t convulse for very long, which one of the Namibians near me said meant that I would not live a very long life.  Apparently, how long the first chicken you kill convulses indicates how long of a life you will have.   I pointed out that the head was still moving.  Hopefully that counts. 

After the chicken slaughter came the plucking, gutting, butchering, and cooking.  I’m told I might be doing a lot of this sort of thing in Kavango depending on the specific community I’m assigned to.  It wasn’t so bad, but chickens aren’t the only meat they eat around here.  There’s a lot of goat and cow eaten in this country too.  I’m not in a big hurry to participate in a goat or cow slaughter, but eventually they’ll come. 

Other weekend activities so far have included wandering around the location in an attempt to find where all the other trainees live, soccer with local kids, Saturday morning runs, house cleaning, studying, and a meal and some beer with other PCTs.  One PCT, Cathy, spent a few minutes of her weekend killing a zebra snake (we’re told this is a very dangerous snake).

We get a lot of inoculation shots (rabies, typhoid, Hep A, Hep B) and training on how to know if we’ve contracted malaria and how to deal with it if we do.  Even though I take a malaria prophylaxis, I still have about a 7% chance of getting malaria during my service and probably a bit more than that given my likely assignment.  However, being on a malaria prophylaxis will greatly diminish the severity of the malaria if I do get it, provided I identify it quickly and take the necessary steps to treat it. 

The training on HIV/AIDS and other Namibian health challenges has been eye opening to put it mildly.  I’ve quickly come to understand the immensity of the problem HIV/AIDS posses here and the daunting challenges that await a Peace Corps Volunteer.  Some rough stats; Some of the regions in Namibia have an HIV prevalence rate greater than 30% (in contrast, California’s rate is something like 0.02%).  The region I will be assigned to, Kavango, is the poorest in Namibia.  18% of the Kavango population is “poor”, and 23% is categorized as “Severely Poor”.  The Kavango HIV/AIDS rate is about 25%.  There are other highly disconcerting facts, trends, and figures for the Kavango region that I don’t feel comfortable sharing here. 

Most of our PCT trainers are Namibian.  They’ve been doing a great job of preparing us for out assignments (as much as you can actually prepare a person for something like this).  I’m really enjoying training, but it won’t last long and soon I’ll be on my own in Kavango, which is when things are going to get tough.  I won’t have my running partner or the other 20 PCTs to keep me company any longer.  I won’t have my awesome Omaruru host family, or 10AM training tea break, or big weekend “cultural food” activities with all of the PCTs and training staff or any of that.  I’ll have a community with a boatload of issues and the powers of a mere mortal to deal with them.  I’ll have to figure out how I’m going to actually provide some value to my assigned community by figuring out creative ways to communicate messages about HIV/AIDS (and other STDs), TB, malaria, nutrition, domestic violence, food safety, hygiene, sexual health, and alcoholism. 

OK, that’s all I have in me for now.  I could write forever about how beautiful it is here, or about my home or neighborhood, or the other PCTs (great group of people), or the food, or the bugs (so many and so big), or any number of things.  But, I’ll be here for another 26 months, so there will be plenty of time for all of that.  Thanks all for reading.  I hope all is well wherever you are. 

PS. Photos won't be available for a bit as uploading via my current connection would take years.  I'll post some as soon as I can.  

hello all,

blogging will resume soon.  just settling in here in Omaruru.  much to share.  stay tuned.

-jim

Super Size Me Too

I've been pouring over the 101 competing Peace Corps Africa packing lists that are on the internet and trying to create one that makes sense for me.  One suggests two pairs of underwear, another suggests ten, one says that underwear is abandon by many more than admit it.  I went with ten and will hope that I have the strength and determination to not abandon them.  Most packing list discrepancies aren't as easy for me to reconcile.  One step at a time.

I find myself easily distracted from my packing mission.  I try to remind myself that my experience there will be directly impacted by just how much I pay attention to what I'm doing right now.  However, at this point, I mostly just think about my friends and family.  I'm happy I was able to catch up with as many as I have over the past 6 weeks and sad that I wasn't able to see some others.  The one benefit to ending the saying-goodbye period is that I can stop going to restaurants every night.  I feel like I'm making a sequel to Super Size Me.  

Thank You to all of my friends and family that let me stay with them over the past 7 months.  The hiccup in my Peace Corps placement was shocking and stressful.  Without your support, these past months would have been much more difficult.  Rosellen, Melissa, and Mark - thank you for your encouraging words during this period.  Kate, Jim, Mary, Rob, Mom and Dad - thank you for all of your hospitality.  You never hesitated to let me use your homes as if they were my own and for that I will be forever grateful.


My nieces Maggie and Katie keeping their nomad Uncle Goofer company

If anybody would like to write or send a package, I've provided mailing instructions over there on the right side of your screen.  My address will change in about 3 months when I get my permanent location.


I have to keep this post short this time as I really do need to get back to packing.  I'm now off to buy duct tape, superglue, a travel sewing kit, a soccer ball, playing cards, and 10 speed stick sport deodorants (Namibian deodorant quality is apparently not so great).  It's unlikely that I'll post again before I'm in Africa.  Peace Corps training is intense, but I'll do my best to post as regularly as time and internet availability permit.  Take care and thanks for reading. 

Gomez

I finally have my flight details, which precipitated my first peace-corps-stress-dream involving empty suitcases, being lost and alone in the middle of a desert, and a horizon filled with smoke.  Standard stuff, right?  My itinerary is a direct 15 and a half hour flight from JFK to Johannesburg, South Africa followed by a 2 hour flight to the Namibian capital of Windhoek.   I'll start packing next week when I'm back in the Lehigh Valley.  The Peace Corps has a lot of Wiki pages, including one specifically on packing for Namibia.  They really highlight the need for good shoes as volunteers walk a lot.  It would appear that no number of shoes is too many.  There is an 80lbs, two bag limit.  I don't think I'll come anywhere close to the limit since I can't pack my dog;  

Gomez

His name is Gomez and, yes, he is as awesome as he looks.  All of my human friends and family know where I'm going.  Gomez, on the other hand, will think I've just left the house for a bit.  It's hard to leave my friends and family, but I have the comfort of knowing that I'll be able to communicate with them from time to time and that they understand where I've disappeared to.  I'm also comforted by my suspicion that Gomez likes my parents more than he likes me (food bribery.  He'd hand me over to a Somali pirate for a piece of anything remotely edible).  He was perfectly fine while I was in Southeast Asia and seemed to be very comfortable at my parents.  There, he has doggie neighbors, my mom that sneaks him bits of food under the table, and my dad that gives him long walks nearly every day.  I'm more concerned about how I'll feel being separated from him.   That part will suck and there's nothing I can do about it but wear it.  He's a great dog and I'm going to miss him. 

My dependable truck of 13 years will be signed over to my dad in two weeks so he has something more dog friendly to haul Gommer around in.  My phone will be deactivated as of March 14th (and sent to The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence - if interested in donating an old cell phone, follow this link; http://www.ncadv.org/takeaction/DonateaPhone.php).   These two actions will complete the downsizing process that I started roughly 18 months ago.  I remember clearly the morning I decided to pursue an invitation to volunteer with the Peace Corps.  I walked through the three floors and basement of my old house taking stock of all the things I would need get rid of.  It seemed an impossible task at the time.  I'm happy that I've managed to reduce my belonging-in-the-world footprint as much as I have.  It's an odd feeling to be able to fit all you own into the corner of a single room.  During this process, I often wondered if at some point I would become fearful of what I was embarking on or feel some sense of loss over the things I was selling and giving away, but that hasn't occurred.  I just feel light and unhindered by material belongings and ready to move on to my next challenge. 

It was great seeing my old Arlington gang last weekend.  I've got 3 more weeks of bouncing around left before I'm off.  I plan to head to NYC to visit a few folks the weekend after next.  I have to fit a shopping trip in sometime before I leave to finish off my packing requirements.  Not much else to share for now.  I hope you are all well.  Thanks for reading.