18 million years

It’s been a busy three(+) weeks since my Rundu site visit.  Besides training, I had to prep for my final language exam and mentally prepare to be separated from the gang of other trainees that I’ve formed some pretty strong bonds with over the past 8 weeks.  As I begin to write this, I am sharing the backseat of a Neon sized vehicle with two other newly sworn in U.S. Peace Corps Volunteers, Geri and Nathan.  We’re headed on a 9-hour journey to our permanent sites to start our 750 days as PCVs in the Kavango region.   

My training in Omaruru ended about one week ago.  I spent this past week in a mountain lodge with the rest of the trainees.  It was nice to have the whole gang back in one spot for a few nights.  I passed my Rukwangali language proficiency exam and was sworn in as a US Peace Corps Volunteer on Friday.  I arrived in my permanent site Saturday.  As usual, way too much has occurred over the past three weeks to cover it all, so I’ll hit some of the high points, low points, and other oddities. 

The deepest low was finding out that our most loved team member, Cathey, would be going home.  Cathey was the undisputed heart of our group.  She was a champ everyday.  If she ever had a bad day, she never showed it.  She always did whatever she could to keep everybody’s spirits up.  She cared about all of us and never had anything but words of encouragement.  We’ll all feel her absence.  

Cathey and the guys

The high of my past three weeks occurred during a morning run with my friend Pam.  My morning run, many times, is the highpoint of my day.  That’s not to say there aren’t many other good moments, but the beauty of this place in the morning, particularly Omaruru and Windhoek, is hard to top.  The rest of the day sort of has the deck stacked against it.  Add the mountains of Windhoek into the mix and forget about it.  So, anyway, the story goes like this;

I met Pam at about 6AM for our first Windhoek mountain run.  We’d spotted a trail the night before from the back deck of the lodge and decided to give it a shot (Pam later reminded me).  We first ran to a circular building on the top of the first peak (photo below) that appeared to be an old lookout.  We reached it in time for the sunrise and then proceeded to the next peak, which provided a beautiful view of Windhoek far below.   

The beginning of our run (see the little outlook on top?)

We had just started our run back to the camp when I heard some strange grunting sounds.  I’d heard a deep grunting sound during our run out but figured it was some sort of cattle in the valley.  I looked off to the west and saw three dark figures perched on a rocky outcropping atop an adjacent peak.  At first, I thought that they were hikers, but I then wondered why they were all wearing the same dark outfits.  I then noticed movement much closer on the hillside that slopped away from me and spotted a dark face looking back at me.  And then another. 

When I took in the whole valley in I couldn’t believe I’d just run through this scene and had not noticed the 30 or so baboons that were wandering between the two peaks.  I was surprised at their size.  They're much bigger than I thought they were.  There were two large baboons that were watching Pam and I closely.  The rest spread out through the shallow valley behind them and up to the next peak.  Pam pointed out some babies running up toward the rock outcropping I’d spotted the first ones perched one.  It turned out that the first ones I saw were the furthest away.  The closer guards watching us were a little more than 150’ away.  The big group appeared to be passing through.  I saw one that was walking on a piece of road that we’d just run twice and the direction of the group suggested that they’d just crossed our route.  I wondered if we’d split the group as we ran out.  I wondered how long ago we shared a common ancestor.  I wondered if we should be worried.    My friend and I were on a mountain top just after sunrise, in Africa, and alone with a large pack of baboons.  It was beautiful.  We stood for a short while in the cool quiet morning and took the scene in and then continued on our run. 

Some other events of the last three weeks included an American Food Day, during which the PCTs got to make American dishes for their host families.  I made German potato salad.  I know, it’s German, not American.  But it’s also a pretty common item at picnics in Pennsylvania and I figured it'd be a crowd pleaser.  We also had a sheep slaughtering party.  After the whole chicken thing, this wasn’t too hard to handle.  The actual slaughter was a bit hard to watch at moments, but that didn’t stop me from getting about 100 pictures.  PCV rock-star Rob did the hard part.  The party started with the sheep tied to a tree and ended with it in our bellies.  It was impressive to see how quickly a few Namibians could slaughter, gut, butcher, and prepare a sheep for dinner. 

Leaving Windhoek and the NAM 35 gang was harder than I thought it would be.  When I met them all in Philly, I figured we’d only be together for 8 weeks and wondered how close we could actually get in that time period.  Turns out you can get pretty attached in 8 weeks.  They’re a great group of people and I’m looking forward to seeing them all in three months.  

Sorry for the brief post.  I’m now sitting in my office at the Rundu Youth Center (yes, I know I started in the backseat of a car on my way to Rundu, but even these little posts take time).  I’ll be more connected now that I’m at my permanent site, so expect my normal posts every two weeks.  But, right now, I have a ton of work to do to get my head wrapped around what needs to get done here and how to approach it.  Thanks for reading.  I'll leave you with a few photos from the past weeks.  I hope you are all well.  

The gang at swearing in

The men of NAM 35

I took a walk in one of the unofficial locations one morning.  This was my favorite shot of the day.

Photo from a bar in Omaruru.

Some of the gang taking in the sunset at the Windhoek mountain lodge

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.