Merry almost Christmas! It doesn't feel like the holiday season at all here, probably because it's about 38 degrees celcius in the shade. They have started playing Christmas music on Silozi radio though, which is pretty incongruous/hilarious. It's pretty weird to hear Frosty the Snowman while I'm sitting in my family's courtyard eating buhobe and fish with sweat pouring off my face. I'm getting kind of into Christmas though. I bought ingredients to make no bake cookies (you just boil most of the ingredients!). I have an oven but it's a gas stove and the ministry didn't bring gas when they dropped it off 2 months ago, and even though I've asked my school to call the ministry about it about 16 times since then, still no gas. Go figure. I got my host family Christmas gifts, even though I don't think exchanging gifts is part of Christmas culture here. I absolutely adore my host family though, so I'm excited to give them something. Today is my 2 year old host niece, Monde's birthday, so I came into town yesterday to bake her a birthday cake and when I get back to the village today we're going to have a little party for her. I'll be sure to post lots of pictures. She's absolutely adorable. At first, like many children here, she was terrified of me having never seen a mukuwa, white person, before, but now she calls me Memily "wangu" (My memily)and follows me around everywhere.
Village life has been a little boring for the past week or so. School ended last Wednesday so I've been spending a majority of my time in the village. So far I've been to a neighboring village to hand out Christmas presents to orphans with a group of volunteers from another organization, learned how to build a reed fence (which we put up around my pit latrine which is FINALLY in service now!! Yay!!), followed my host mom around for a day while she did all of her normal village activities, including visiting "her orphans," who are staying on a family's homestead, so she just makes sure they're being taken care of, collecting firewood (carrying it on my head makes me feel pretty badass I have to say)and what what. I've also been taking some time to just relax for the first time in four months, meaning watching lots of movies on my laptop and reading a lot. It's also far too hot in the afternoon to even sit in the shade without getting sunburned, so I've been spending a good chunk of time in my hut, which stays somehow cool during the day. It's rained a few times, which always cools things off considerably, but the last few days have been bright blue skies. Ugh. Terrible weather. Supposedly it does get cold here in May or June, but I'll believe it when I see it.
So that's life nowadays. Pretty exciting...not. I guess the action and adventure part of this story comes later on. Happy Holidays everyone!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
Thanksgiving in Namibia
Well, I had a whole post typed up on my flashdrive which currently isn't working at all, probably because it now has a million viruses after being plugged into a Namibia's laptop, so this will just be a short one. I had my first Namibian Thanksgiving yesterday. It was a little sad to be away from family on the holiday, and I definitely missed eating Thanksgiving comfort food, but the Caprivi kids had a celebration of our own with black bean burgers and sweet potato fries which were pretty delicious. Kaitlin even made an apple pie!
The village has been growing on me. I spent last weekend there so I got to spend time with my host family and neighbors and the kids. I love playing games with the kids in my village becasue they're so creative about how to entertain themselves. They don't have toys so they'll use long reeds of grass to make a jumprope, metal and soda cans to make metal cars that they push around, stones and the nuts from some sort of tree to make a game kind of like jax, where you have to throw the nut into the air and scoop the stones either into our out of a hole in the ground before you catch it. And of course they love to play cards, so I constantly have kids coming over to get me to teach them new card games, or to teach me some of their cards games.
I also learned how to do things that all women in the village have to do on a daily basis. On Saturday morning I went into the bush with my host mom and sister and our old lady neighbor who always calls me mulikani, which means friend in Silozi, to collect firewood. My stack was definitely a lot smaller than anyone else's but I did carry it on my head all the way back to the village. Which was probably only about a kilometer, but it feels far when you're carrying a heavy stack of firewood on your head!
On Sunday night I learned how to make nkoko, or buhobe, also known as pap or porridge: basically most Southern African cultures' staple food. Like most villagers my host family doesn't have a stove (well actually now they have my gas stove in their hut, but in typical fashion the ministry has yet to bring gas for it), so they do all their cooking over a fire. Let me tell you, cooking over a fire is hot and it's pretty easy to burn yourself -- most village women have burn scars on their hands and arms, from cooking I'm pretty sure -- and stirring nkoko is harder than it looks. And my old lady neighbor came over while I was making it and kept yelling at me in Silozi and grabbing my arm while I was stirring to say "Ona cwalo! Ona cwalo!" wich means, "like this! like this!" But I thought I was stirring it the way she tol me to...ehh I guess it's a learned art form. My host family said it tasted good though. It tasted the same as all nkoko to me: bland and kind of sandy.
Anyway, I'm actually kind of looking forward to being in the village after school ends. I was worried about filling up my days, but I think it will be nice to have a lot of time to wander around the village getting to know people and learning how to do things the village way. I'll also be in Kabbe for Christmas so I'll get to see what a traditional village Christmas is like. I hope there are fat cakes and not too many drunk people (Christmas is apparently a big drinking holiday here, just like most days of the year). I think I might try to bring a little Americanness to Christmas too by baking Christmas cookies. A week before Christmas is my 2 year old host niece, Monde's, birthday and since she might be my favorite person in Namibia since she's the most adorable baby I've ever seen I'm baking her a birthday cake.
So this is holiday time in Namibia. No Christmas trees, no holiday consumerisn, no winter snow, no turkey or stuffing or candy canes. It's just hot and sandy, and sometimes rainy now that rainy season is fast approaching. It's not bad though, just different, like most of the Peace Corps experience.
The village has been growing on me. I spent last weekend there so I got to spend time with my host family and neighbors and the kids. I love playing games with the kids in my village becasue they're so creative about how to entertain themselves. They don't have toys so they'll use long reeds of grass to make a jumprope, metal and soda cans to make metal cars that they push around, stones and the nuts from some sort of tree to make a game kind of like jax, where you have to throw the nut into the air and scoop the stones either into our out of a hole in the ground before you catch it. And of course they love to play cards, so I constantly have kids coming over to get me to teach them new card games, or to teach me some of their cards games.
I also learned how to do things that all women in the village have to do on a daily basis. On Saturday morning I went into the bush with my host mom and sister and our old lady neighbor who always calls me mulikani, which means friend in Silozi, to collect firewood. My stack was definitely a lot smaller than anyone else's but I did carry it on my head all the way back to the village. Which was probably only about a kilometer, but it feels far when you're carrying a heavy stack of firewood on your head!
On Sunday night I learned how to make nkoko, or buhobe, also known as pap or porridge: basically most Southern African cultures' staple food. Like most villagers my host family doesn't have a stove (well actually now they have my gas stove in their hut, but in typical fashion the ministry has yet to bring gas for it), so they do all their cooking over a fire. Let me tell you, cooking over a fire is hot and it's pretty easy to burn yourself -- most village women have burn scars on their hands and arms, from cooking I'm pretty sure -- and stirring nkoko is harder than it looks. And my old lady neighbor came over while I was making it and kept yelling at me in Silozi and grabbing my arm while I was stirring to say "Ona cwalo! Ona cwalo!" wich means, "like this! like this!" But I thought I was stirring it the way she tol me to...ehh I guess it's a learned art form. My host family said it tasted good though. It tasted the same as all nkoko to me: bland and kind of sandy.
Anyway, I'm actually kind of looking forward to being in the village after school ends. I was worried about filling up my days, but I think it will be nice to have a lot of time to wander around the village getting to know people and learning how to do things the village way. I'll also be in Kabbe for Christmas so I'll get to see what a traditional village Christmas is like. I hope there are fat cakes and not too many drunk people (Christmas is apparently a big drinking holiday here, just like most days of the year). I think I might try to bring a little Americanness to Christmas too by baking Christmas cookies. A week before Christmas is my 2 year old host niece, Monde's, birthday and since she might be my favorite person in Namibia since she's the most adorable baby I've ever seen I'm baking her a birthday cake.
So this is holiday time in Namibia. No Christmas trees, no holiday consumerisn, no winter snow, no turkey or stuffing or candy canes. It's just hot and sandy, and sometimes rainy now that rainy season is fast approaching. It's not bad though, just different, like most of the Peace Corps experience.
Friday, November 13, 2009
snakes, spiders and kittens
Hey all. So it's been exactly 4 weeks since swearing in, and roughly 4 weeks at site except for my little trip to Windhoek and for some reason this week I just hit a wall. I didn't come to town last weekend. I ended up going to Mubiza on friday night to stay with Sarah. We made some yummy pasta on Griffin's stove and watched the Office, and it would have been an awesome night except that Griffin's hut is some sort of sack spider den. Sack spiders are huge, gross, super fast, poisonous spiders and according to Sarah's host dad if you get bit by one your arm will turn back and you'll eventually die. Great. Another creature in the bush that wants to kill us. Luckily Griffin's cat, Romanus, was pretty good at killing and eating the spiders but there were a few that managed to escape Romanus which resulted in Sarah and me jumping from Griffin's bed to the cot in his sitting room shrieking. And I'm not afraid of spiders. I have about 30 wall spiders chilling in my hut right now. But man, I'm telling you, those things are scary.
Oh, and to back it up a bit, last week I came home from school for tea break,which is when I eat breakfast with my family. I was sitting in my host mom's hut, finishing my bread and peanut butter (my favorite meal of the day, because it does not involve any variation of porridge), when my host mom called me outside. She put her arm around me and pointed to the thatch in my hut and said in the kind of voice you use when you have to tell someone something and you don't want them to freak out and vomit on you because what you have to say is terrifying, "Look over there." I looked up and sure enough sticking its head out of the thatch was a snake. Now, in America, I'm not afraid of snakes. They really don't bother me. I used to enjoy catching garter snakes and keeping them as pets when I was little. But in Caprivi snakes are a whole different story. Essentially villagers will tell you that every kind of snake is poisonous and going to kill you in 3 seconds flat. And that's what I've been hearing since I got to Namibia. So this has instilled a pretty intense fear of snakes, and particularly of snakes getting into my hut. Which the other volunteers told me is very rare and probably not going to happen. But there was a snake, just hanging out in the roof of my hut. My host mom ran and got two women who live in the huts next to mine and they came with long sticks and knocked it out of the roof, then one of the women beat it with the stick until it was dead. I have no idea what kind of snake it was. it was thin and green, and possibly a green mamba although those are actually pretty rare (black mambas, the way more dangerous kind, are more common). The day before a cobra tried to get into the grade 3 classroom and they killed it. So there we have it. Two snake sitings and a bombardment of sack spiders, all in the same week.
But fortunately the reason I was going to Mubiza in the first place, in addition to see Sarah, was to get my kitten! Griffin's spider killing cat had kittens a few weeks ago, so Griffin gave me one to keep snakes and spiders out of my house. And also just because kittens are darn cute. So now I have a little kitty to guard my house. She's black and white and her name is Yebo.
So aside from poisonous animals trying to kill me and cute little kittens I've just been going to school every day and trying to get to know the teachers and learners. I don't know, I think this week I just a hit a slump. It's been 3 months of living with host families and I'm definitely ready for some independence. I'm also way tired of the food and so ready to be able to cook for myself. But only 6 weeks until reconnect and then I get to move into my own hut! My mansion as my counterpart jokingly refers to it. But after living in a windowless 8 by 8 foot cave it will definitely feel like a mansion.
Anyway, I'll continue to keep you updated on snakes and spiders and what not!
Oh, and to back it up a bit, last week I came home from school for tea break,which is when I eat breakfast with my family. I was sitting in my host mom's hut, finishing my bread and peanut butter (my favorite meal of the day, because it does not involve any variation of porridge), when my host mom called me outside. She put her arm around me and pointed to the thatch in my hut and said in the kind of voice you use when you have to tell someone something and you don't want them to freak out and vomit on you because what you have to say is terrifying, "Look over there." I looked up and sure enough sticking its head out of the thatch was a snake. Now, in America, I'm not afraid of snakes. They really don't bother me. I used to enjoy catching garter snakes and keeping them as pets when I was little. But in Caprivi snakes are a whole different story. Essentially villagers will tell you that every kind of snake is poisonous and going to kill you in 3 seconds flat. And that's what I've been hearing since I got to Namibia. So this has instilled a pretty intense fear of snakes, and particularly of snakes getting into my hut. Which the other volunteers told me is very rare and probably not going to happen. But there was a snake, just hanging out in the roof of my hut. My host mom ran and got two women who live in the huts next to mine and they came with long sticks and knocked it out of the roof, then one of the women beat it with the stick until it was dead. I have no idea what kind of snake it was. it was thin and green, and possibly a green mamba although those are actually pretty rare (black mambas, the way more dangerous kind, are more common). The day before a cobra tried to get into the grade 3 classroom and they killed it. So there we have it. Two snake sitings and a bombardment of sack spiders, all in the same week.
But fortunately the reason I was going to Mubiza in the first place, in addition to see Sarah, was to get my kitten! Griffin's spider killing cat had kittens a few weeks ago, so Griffin gave me one to keep snakes and spiders out of my house. And also just because kittens are darn cute. So now I have a little kitty to guard my house. She's black and white and her name is Yebo.
So aside from poisonous animals trying to kill me and cute little kittens I've just been going to school every day and trying to get to know the teachers and learners. I don't know, I think this week I just a hit a slump. It's been 3 months of living with host families and I'm definitely ready for some independence. I'm also way tired of the food and so ready to be able to cook for myself. But only 6 weeks until reconnect and then I get to move into my own hut! My mansion as my counterpart jokingly refers to it. But after living in a windowless 8 by 8 foot cave it will definitely feel like a mansion.
Anyway, I'll continue to keep you updated on snakes and spiders and what not!
Monday, November 2, 2009
Kabbe Shmabbe
More pictures! Enjoy!
On the way to site we made a detour to Botswana. Huh?
My host family in Kabbe
This is what Kabbe looks like pretty much. Just imagine more huts and lots of sand.
Group 30 Silozi group plus Kaitlin
Group 30 at swearing in!
Well, it’s been 2 weeks since swearing in and this should be my second week at site, but I had to come down to Windhoek this week to get a medical issue looked at. It turns out to most likely be nothing more serious than a strange reaction to my malaria pills, so I should be good to go in no time! In the mean time I’m hanging out in Windhoek, enjoying some yummy food, going to Super Spar (aka mecca) daily, and just wandering around the city. Hopefully I’ll be back at site soon, but Clara, the Peace Corps Medical Officer, likes to keep volunteers who come down here for medical stuff for a while, just to make sure there won’t be any problems when we get to site. I really didn’t want to have to come down here in the first place, because I’m still getting used to my site and I’m missing seeing all the Caprivi volunteers in Katima this weekend for Halloween, but I do have to admit that it’s nice having a toilet and shower.
Which brings me to my first week and a half at site. It’s been interesting. Let’s start with swearing in. It was happy and sad to become an official PCV. It was great to finally be done with training and be able to get to our sites to start doing what we came here to do, but it was so hard to say goodbye to everyone! I made some really great friends during training and now I won’t see them until January, when we all get together for reconnect. At least we still have smsing and the random phone call to get us through the months. Other than that swearing in went well. Sarah and I read the farewell speech for Silozi, and we were both really nervous but I think we did well! After the ceremony people started leaving with their supervisors for their sites immediately. Those of us whose sites are too far to get to in an afternoon hung around the center, saying goodbye to everyone, then went out for one last ice cream at spar.
The next morning I had all my stuff packed up and ready to go at 5:30 in the morning when the Peace Corps combi came to pick us up to drop us off at the center, where we would load our stuff into a ministry bakkie (pickup truck), then we would get into a sedan and Steven, Andrew’s principal, would drive us and a teacher from my school who came down to get us, up to Katima. So that morning I said goodbye to my host family in Okahandja with the promise that we would meet up in Katima in December when they come for holiday, and set off. However, when we got to the center Steven announced that the ministry bakkie wasn’t coming that day, and could only get our stuff the next day, so we had to leave almost everything except for a few essential items and valuables in OKahandja. Ugh, that was not okay. I was super nervous about leaving my stuff, figuring I would never see it again, but luckily it arrived the next Monday. So all worked out in the end.
We spent the night in Katima and the next day Steven drove us to our sites, with a detour to Ngoma, the border town to Botswana, about 15 K from Kabbe (yup! I’m that close to Botswana). Actually, we even made a little jaunt into Botswana, just by crossing the bridge separating Botswana and Namibia! So I have now officially been to 4 Southern African countries. Hopefully next time I’ll get a little farther in though…
Then Steven dropped Andrew in Lusese and me in Kabbe. The first thing I noticed as we pulled up in front of my host families hut was the remarkably absence of a pit latrine. I was promised multiple times during site visit and the last 4 weeks of training by my principal and the Peace Corps that my pit latrine would definitely definitely definitely be done by the time I got there for site. But, this is Caprivi. As of yet it still isn’t done, which has made life rather awkward and uncomfortable for the last 2 weeks, as you can probably imagine.
So I spent the first day catching up with my host family, walking around the outer edges of Kabbe in my shitenge greeting people with my host mom. The next day, Monday, I went to school expecting to observe classes and just become reacquainted with my surroundings. However, when I showed up I was informed that the 8th and 9th grade math teacher was in Windhoek grading exams, and that I should take over his classes for the week. Ummm, last I checked I’m an English teacher, and I barely remember how to do 8th grade math. And his class happened to be 1st period. So it was pretty awkward since I clearly was flustered and had no idea what I was doing, but afterwards I spoke to my principal about how I’m not a math teacher and I don’t appreciate being thrust into classes without warning. So after that I spent the week working with the English teacher for grades 5 to 7, which suited my abilities much better. By the end of the week I felt comfortable teaching a few classes, and I’m starting to really love my learners. They are absolutely adorable. I’ll be sure to post pictures of my school when I get back to site.
My only big surprise that week came the first day of school when I got back to my room and opened my door only to find that someone’s rooster had gotten inside my hut. My door, which was also supposed to be replaced before I got there, has huge gaps in it, and a rooster had just waltzed its way into the place. Because of my slightly irrational fear of birds and hatred of chickens I freaked out a little, and ran screaming into my host mom’s house to ask for help. She managed to get it out for me, but not before it had a chance to poop everywhere, including some of the only clothes I had managed to bring from Okahandja. Since that incident I’ve become very suspicious of the chickens that hang around my host family’s lapa, and don’t feel as guilty about eating them anymore.
After that the week was less exciting. I thought village life would be boring and I would have nothing to do most of the time but I’ve found that I’ve managed to fill up my days pretty completely, between school, after school lesson planning and activities, spending time with my host family and teaching all the kids in the village how to play uno (they love it, even though they pretty much made up their own rules and now I don’t really know how to play their version).
So, even though village life is definitely going to take getting used to it’s not that bad. The only things I really miss are being able to cook for myself (and eat cheese! Oh I miss cheese) and showers and indoor toilets, and having any privacy. In the village everyone knows what I’m doing every minute of the day. When I have my own house with a courtyard I think I’ll have a little more privacy.
Well, that’s pretty much it so far. I miss home and 2 years is starting to seem like a really long time, but hopefully by January I’ll be adjusted to my site and it will feel a little more like home away from home. And for those who want to experience life in a real African village visitors are always welcome!
On the way to site we made a detour to Botswana. Huh?
My host family in Kabbe
This is what Kabbe looks like pretty much. Just imagine more huts and lots of sand.
Group 30 Silozi group plus Kaitlin
Group 30 at swearing in!
Well, it’s been 2 weeks since swearing in and this should be my second week at site, but I had to come down to Windhoek this week to get a medical issue looked at. It turns out to most likely be nothing more serious than a strange reaction to my malaria pills, so I should be good to go in no time! In the mean time I’m hanging out in Windhoek, enjoying some yummy food, going to Super Spar (aka mecca) daily, and just wandering around the city. Hopefully I’ll be back at site soon, but Clara, the Peace Corps Medical Officer, likes to keep volunteers who come down here for medical stuff for a while, just to make sure there won’t be any problems when we get to site. I really didn’t want to have to come down here in the first place, because I’m still getting used to my site and I’m missing seeing all the Caprivi volunteers in Katima this weekend for Halloween, but I do have to admit that it’s nice having a toilet and shower.
Which brings me to my first week and a half at site. It’s been interesting. Let’s start with swearing in. It was happy and sad to become an official PCV. It was great to finally be done with training and be able to get to our sites to start doing what we came here to do, but it was so hard to say goodbye to everyone! I made some really great friends during training and now I won’t see them until January, when we all get together for reconnect. At least we still have smsing and the random phone call to get us through the months. Other than that swearing in went well. Sarah and I read the farewell speech for Silozi, and we were both really nervous but I think we did well! After the ceremony people started leaving with their supervisors for their sites immediately. Those of us whose sites are too far to get to in an afternoon hung around the center, saying goodbye to everyone, then went out for one last ice cream at spar.
The next morning I had all my stuff packed up and ready to go at 5:30 in the morning when the Peace Corps combi came to pick us up to drop us off at the center, where we would load our stuff into a ministry bakkie (pickup truck), then we would get into a sedan and Steven, Andrew’s principal, would drive us and a teacher from my school who came down to get us, up to Katima. So that morning I said goodbye to my host family in Okahandja with the promise that we would meet up in Katima in December when they come for holiday, and set off. However, when we got to the center Steven announced that the ministry bakkie wasn’t coming that day, and could only get our stuff the next day, so we had to leave almost everything except for a few essential items and valuables in OKahandja. Ugh, that was not okay. I was super nervous about leaving my stuff, figuring I would never see it again, but luckily it arrived the next Monday. So all worked out in the end.
We spent the night in Katima and the next day Steven drove us to our sites, with a detour to Ngoma, the border town to Botswana, about 15 K from Kabbe (yup! I’m that close to Botswana). Actually, we even made a little jaunt into Botswana, just by crossing the bridge separating Botswana and Namibia! So I have now officially been to 4 Southern African countries. Hopefully next time I’ll get a little farther in though…
Then Steven dropped Andrew in Lusese and me in Kabbe. The first thing I noticed as we pulled up in front of my host families hut was the remarkably absence of a pit latrine. I was promised multiple times during site visit and the last 4 weeks of training by my principal and the Peace Corps that my pit latrine would definitely definitely definitely be done by the time I got there for site. But, this is Caprivi. As of yet it still isn’t done, which has made life rather awkward and uncomfortable for the last 2 weeks, as you can probably imagine.
So I spent the first day catching up with my host family, walking around the outer edges of Kabbe in my shitenge greeting people with my host mom. The next day, Monday, I went to school expecting to observe classes and just become reacquainted with my surroundings. However, when I showed up I was informed that the 8th and 9th grade math teacher was in Windhoek grading exams, and that I should take over his classes for the week. Ummm, last I checked I’m an English teacher, and I barely remember how to do 8th grade math. And his class happened to be 1st period. So it was pretty awkward since I clearly was flustered and had no idea what I was doing, but afterwards I spoke to my principal about how I’m not a math teacher and I don’t appreciate being thrust into classes without warning. So after that I spent the week working with the English teacher for grades 5 to 7, which suited my abilities much better. By the end of the week I felt comfortable teaching a few classes, and I’m starting to really love my learners. They are absolutely adorable. I’ll be sure to post pictures of my school when I get back to site.
My only big surprise that week came the first day of school when I got back to my room and opened my door only to find that someone’s rooster had gotten inside my hut. My door, which was also supposed to be replaced before I got there, has huge gaps in it, and a rooster had just waltzed its way into the place. Because of my slightly irrational fear of birds and hatred of chickens I freaked out a little, and ran screaming into my host mom’s house to ask for help. She managed to get it out for me, but not before it had a chance to poop everywhere, including some of the only clothes I had managed to bring from Okahandja. Since that incident I’ve become very suspicious of the chickens that hang around my host family’s lapa, and don’t feel as guilty about eating them anymore.
After that the week was less exciting. I thought village life would be boring and I would have nothing to do most of the time but I’ve found that I’ve managed to fill up my days pretty completely, between school, after school lesson planning and activities, spending time with my host family and teaching all the kids in the village how to play uno (they love it, even though they pretty much made up their own rules and now I don’t really know how to play their version).
So, even though village life is definitely going to take getting used to it’s not that bad. The only things I really miss are being able to cook for myself (and eat cheese! Oh I miss cheese) and showers and indoor toilets, and having any privacy. In the village everyone knows what I’m doing every minute of the day. When I have my own house with a courtyard I think I’ll have a little more privacy.
Well, that’s pretty much it so far. I miss home and 2 years is starting to seem like a really long time, but hopefully by January I’ll be adjusted to my site and it will feel a little more like home away from home. And for those who want to experience life in a real African village visitors are always welcome!
Friday, October 30, 2009
Okahandja to Kabbe to Windhoek...
Pictures! My host sister and baby in our lapa (courtyard)
Ok so I had a post typed up about my first week and a half at site but here in the volunteer lounge in Windhoek I can't get it to open with this version of word. So I'll try to come back and download it. But for now I'll just say this: Week 1 at site was hard. My site is definitely difficult. I don't have a pit latrine, my permanent house isn't ready, for now I live in a tiny hut with no windows and lots of spiders on the walls, and when its windy thatch blows down through my mosquito net and my bed gets covered in dirt. So I've had to get used to carrying water, having chickens break into my hut, bucket bathing and doing laundry by hand. Village life isn't easy, but then again, no one goes into Peace Corps thinking it's going to be easy! Although in some ways it's been more difficult than I thought. I think I'm really going to like Kabbe, once I get adjusted and have a place in the village.
And at home I rarely if every get sick, but my first wednesday at site I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't breathe, and since then I've had chest pains every day, and experienced really bad pains in my chest every time I try to swallow food or water. Which brings me to where I am now: sittin in the PC lounge in Windhoek. Clara, the Peace Corps Medical Officer wanted me to come down to check everything out and make sure it's nothing serious. It turns out to most likely be an adverse reaction to my malaria pills. Which is a relief, and soon I'll be back in Kabbe. For now I don't mind having a toilet and shower though!
So I'll write a more detailed post next time, with more pictures of my village!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Hold the mayo
Only one day of training left! On Friday we swear in as volunteers and then off we go to our permanent sites in all corners of Namibia. The Caprivi kids are leaving on Saturday, overnighting in Rundu and then heading to our villages on Sunday. Phewww.
Reflecting back on training, I wanted to write a post about something very important to me and I believe most other members of my training group. This is an issue very near and dear to my heart. Probably a main passion my in life, a source of joy and sorrow, and one of exceeding importance in navigating the delicate contours of adapting to a foreign culture: food.
Yes, food is a cultural touchstone that can make or break your experience in a foreign country. In many cases it defines the culture: tacos, lo mein, tiramisu, all conjure different images of certain locales. I know that many of you have probably already wondered, and I’m sure I’ll be asked eventually, so what is the food in Namibia like?
So for your benefit I’ve prepared a little description of Nam cuisine, although defining the food in Namibia in a holistic sense is a little tough, since Namibia as a whole is made up of several different ethnic groups, each with its own idea of what constitutes a good meal. Hereros, for example, love meat. A traditional Herero meal could be goat with porridge with sour milk. Yum. Oshiwambos eat Mopani worms, which are apparently big worms that they fry in oil to make crispy. When undercooked they have a bitter, squishy taste. I have yet to try. Every ethnic group eats porridge, which is boiled maize meal: kind of like very bland grits or polenta. The traditional way to eat porridge is to ball it up in your right hand and dip it into whatever meat, vegetable and sauce you happen to be eating it with. Every cultural group’s porridge is a little different. Oshiwambo and Kavango porridge is sandier, and has a softer consistency, so they don’t chew it, just swallow it whole.
Caprivians are fortunate enough to live next to the Zambezi river so they eat lots of fish, and it’s a fertile enough region to grow vegetables, particularly one called the 5 year vegetable, which is a type of bitter green, like spinach. In the village, for lunch and dinner, we usually eat porridge with fresh river fish, and either a sauce of onions and tomatoes or 5 year vegetable.
What I’ve given you so far is solely a description of traditional food. In my village people mostly stick to the traditional because they still cook in pots over the fire, and supplies are much less available than in towns where there are always at least one or two supermarkets (Spar in Okahandja has turned into my favorite place in the world). But the thing about Namibia is that as a result of colonization and “development” the food culture has changed over the years. And while families in towns will still prepare a traditional meal one or two days a week, the food as a whole has evolved to a strange mix of African, German and mayonnaise.
Let me explain. Somewhere along the line, something very strange happened to food in Namibia. And what we’ve ended up with is a love for “tomato sauce” (Nam ketchup), mayonnaise, and processed powdered soup packets that knows no bounds. This is a typical dinner at my house: Rice, pasta or porridge, chicken or another type of meat (lately oryx since I walked into my kitchen one day 2 weeks ago only to find my host mother hacking away at a giant oryx leg), soup packet, on top of which they will dump mayonnaise and tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise, like pasta salad but warm, with soup packet. And tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise and rice (why?). And sometimes to spice it up we’ll have salad: lettuce, drenched in a dressing of mayonnaise, sugar and milk. Which is also the same dressing recipe used for spaghetti with mayonnaise, carrot salad and potato salad. I’m not sure exactly why it makes sense to make spaghetti with mayonnaise (+sugar and milk, just in case you were worried about being able to button your pants at some point after training), cut up a hard boiled egg and put some peas and carrots in it, serve it warm, and then to top it off pour soup over it, but that’s how we do in Namibia. Oh, and the other amazing thing about mayonnaise in Namibia: it doesn’t need to be refrigerated. We’re not sure how this works, since it still says clearly on the label to refrigerate after opening, but in every household the mayo is kept in the cupboard. Oh, and for some reason, the only food on which mayonnaise isn’t appropriate is sandwiches: butter goes on every type of sandwich. (side note: they also put butter on peanut butter sandwiches, due to some kind of miscommunication somewhere where peanut butter is the peanut part, and then…well, I think you get it).
So, to finish it off, here’s a random sample of food we volunteers have been given by our families:
Macaroni salad with fruit cocktail
Biltong (Nam beef jerkey) with gravy and potatoes
Cold baked beans with sliced banana (that was my mom – the next day we had it again with cooked carrots, and she informed me that she just loves this kind of “salad”)
Wart hog
Oryx
Goat brain
So there it is. I could go on and on about food but this is just a taste of local cuisine. Oh Namibia, how I love thee. But after my two years here I hope to never see a jar of mayonnaise again.
Reflecting back on training, I wanted to write a post about something very important to me and I believe most other members of my training group. This is an issue very near and dear to my heart. Probably a main passion my in life, a source of joy and sorrow, and one of exceeding importance in navigating the delicate contours of adapting to a foreign culture: food.
Yes, food is a cultural touchstone that can make or break your experience in a foreign country. In many cases it defines the culture: tacos, lo mein, tiramisu, all conjure different images of certain locales. I know that many of you have probably already wondered, and I’m sure I’ll be asked eventually, so what is the food in Namibia like?
So for your benefit I’ve prepared a little description of Nam cuisine, although defining the food in Namibia in a holistic sense is a little tough, since Namibia as a whole is made up of several different ethnic groups, each with its own idea of what constitutes a good meal. Hereros, for example, love meat. A traditional Herero meal could be goat with porridge with sour milk. Yum. Oshiwambos eat Mopani worms, which are apparently big worms that they fry in oil to make crispy. When undercooked they have a bitter, squishy taste. I have yet to try. Every ethnic group eats porridge, which is boiled maize meal: kind of like very bland grits or polenta. The traditional way to eat porridge is to ball it up in your right hand and dip it into whatever meat, vegetable and sauce you happen to be eating it with. Every cultural group’s porridge is a little different. Oshiwambo and Kavango porridge is sandier, and has a softer consistency, so they don’t chew it, just swallow it whole.
Caprivians are fortunate enough to live next to the Zambezi river so they eat lots of fish, and it’s a fertile enough region to grow vegetables, particularly one called the 5 year vegetable, which is a type of bitter green, like spinach. In the village, for lunch and dinner, we usually eat porridge with fresh river fish, and either a sauce of onions and tomatoes or 5 year vegetable.
What I’ve given you so far is solely a description of traditional food. In my village people mostly stick to the traditional because they still cook in pots over the fire, and supplies are much less available than in towns where there are always at least one or two supermarkets (Spar in Okahandja has turned into my favorite place in the world). But the thing about Namibia is that as a result of colonization and “development” the food culture has changed over the years. And while families in towns will still prepare a traditional meal one or two days a week, the food as a whole has evolved to a strange mix of African, German and mayonnaise.
Let me explain. Somewhere along the line, something very strange happened to food in Namibia. And what we’ve ended up with is a love for “tomato sauce” (Nam ketchup), mayonnaise, and processed powdered soup packets that knows no bounds. This is a typical dinner at my house: Rice, pasta or porridge, chicken or another type of meat (lately oryx since I walked into my kitchen one day 2 weeks ago only to find my host mother hacking away at a giant oryx leg), soup packet, on top of which they will dump mayonnaise and tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise, like pasta salad but warm, with soup packet. And tomato sauce. Sometimes we have pasta with mayonnaise and rice (why?). And sometimes to spice it up we’ll have salad: lettuce, drenched in a dressing of mayonnaise, sugar and milk. Which is also the same dressing recipe used for spaghetti with mayonnaise, carrot salad and potato salad. I’m not sure exactly why it makes sense to make spaghetti with mayonnaise (+sugar and milk, just in case you were worried about being able to button your pants at some point after training), cut up a hard boiled egg and put some peas and carrots in it, serve it warm, and then to top it off pour soup over it, but that’s how we do in Namibia. Oh, and the other amazing thing about mayonnaise in Namibia: it doesn’t need to be refrigerated. We’re not sure how this works, since it still says clearly on the label to refrigerate after opening, but in every household the mayo is kept in the cupboard. Oh, and for some reason, the only food on which mayonnaise isn’t appropriate is sandwiches: butter goes on every type of sandwich. (side note: they also put butter on peanut butter sandwiches, due to some kind of miscommunication somewhere where peanut butter is the peanut part, and then…well, I think you get it).
So, to finish it off, here’s a random sample of food we volunteers have been given by our families:
Macaroni salad with fruit cocktail
Biltong (Nam beef jerkey) with gravy and potatoes
Cold baked beans with sliced banana (that was my mom – the next day we had it again with cooked carrots, and she informed me that she just loves this kind of “salad”)
Wart hog
Oryx
Goat brain
So there it is. I could go on and on about food but this is just a taste of local cuisine. Oh Namibia, how I love thee. But after my two years here I hope to never see a jar of mayonnaise again.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Peace Corps is Namgood
I wrote this post a few days ago but haven’t been able to wake up at 1 for internet before now. So it’s a little outdated but still good, don’t worry.
Hello again! Now that I have internet I can post blogs all the time…so exciting! Don’t get too used to it though because I’m not sure what my internet will be like at site since Kabbe doesn’t get the best cell reception. I kind of have to stand in one corner of my hut to hear anything, which is kind of creepy because I don’t like to stand in my hut in the dark just in case there might be lizards and snakes and things running around my feet. Eek.
Well I’ve been back from site visit for 2 weeks and now I have less than 2 weeks until I leave for my permanent site, which is insanity. On the one hand I’m ready for training to be over because I am starting to get really tired of the sessions. Every morning we have 4 hours of language training which is extremely draining. Then after lunch we usually have some kind of cross cultural or technical session, which are usually terrible because it’s 90 degrees, the presentations are given by Namibians who usually speak quickly and mumble, and they’re on subjects like the history of education in Namibia. It’s a struggle to stay awake. I think I’m going to be really sad when training is over though because I’m really going to miss the other PCVs in my group. I love the volunteers in Caprivi, so I’ll have awesome people to hang out with on weekends, but I’m really going to miss the folks from group 30 who are going to be all over the country and nowhere close to me. Time is really going by fast though! I’ve been in Namibia for 6 weeks already. Only 2 years to go…
For the past 2 Saturdays we haven’t had any training sessions so we decided to free hike down to Windhoek to do a little shopping and eat some great food. We found the best Indian restaurant in Windhoek last week which I am definitely hitting up every time I’m in town, and then we went to the movies and saw Up. I’m going to miss going to the movies once I get to site…it’s one of my absolute favorite things to do. Getting back to Okahandja last week was quite an adventure. We didn’t want to spend money on a taxi, being poor volunteers who just spent about 10 days worth of PC allowance on Indian food and a movie, so we decided to free hike back to Okahandja. We left the mall at around 5 and started to walk to the hike point. We weren’t really sure where we were going so we followed signs to the B1 in Okahandja. We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and then realized that we were going the wrong way. Whoops. So we doubled back and walked and walked and walked some more, and realized we were cutting it pretty close by getting to the hike point so late. So we flagged down a car that dropped us off at the hike point and started attempting to wave cars down. The only ones that stopped weren’t going to Okahandja or were taxis that wouldn’t leave when we told them we didn’t want to pay for a ride (In weird PCV Nam talk: “But we are only volunteers, and we are not having money.”) Finally we started to get a little worried so we texted Raymond, our super dreamy safety and security officer and secret boyfriend of every female PCV in Namibia, for the number for a cab. I guess he got kind of worried that we were in Windhoek so close to nightfall because he asked where we were and said he was coming to find us. Well, the PC policy on free-hiking is “don’t do it” so we definitely didn’t want Raymond to know we were at the free hike spot so we started frantically walking to a spot that wasn’t the hike point, even though we were basically busted because there’s nothing in that part of Windhoek except the highway. As we started walking an open back bakkie (pick up truck) pulled over with 2 very nice drivers who let all 7 of us pile into the back. Well, if free hiking doesn’t exactly jibe with PC policy, riding in an open bakkie is also one of those “don’t do it” rules. We texted Raymond to tell him we “found a taxi” and just imagined what he would do if he rolled up and saw us pulling away in this open bakkie. He would break up with us for sure. PC policy or not it was a great ride and completed an awesome day.
Today the Peace Corps combi was driving down to Windhoek to drop off 2 current volunteers who are leaving in December for their COS (close of service) medical interviews, so we decided to take a ride with them and then free hike back, for no other reason than that we were bored in Okahandja and wanted some more food that’s good good and not just “Namgood.” Namgood is phrase used to describe food that would be mediocre at best in our normal lives in America, but here in Namibia we chow down with gusto. For example, today I stopped at Hungry Lion, a fast food restaurant, to get some soft serve ice cream. A small ice cream cone was N$2.40, so about 30 US cents. And even though it was supposed to be vanilla but it tasted like banana, and it had a texture that was not really akin to ice cream, it was one awesome ice cream cone: Namgood. We have all found that our standards have definitely been lowered. Food like processed cheese slices that we would never eat in the states are now beloved PCV staples, and volunteers even admit to breaking apart chicken bones to suck out the marrow like our Namibian host families. To be honest I think we would eat anything that was put in front of us. And Namgood doesn’t only apply to food. Namibian TV also falls into the Namgood category. Most volunteers have become obsessed Namibian soapies. I don’t even notice the weird dubbing of “Lorenzo’s wife,” and the acting seems really good now. Namgood.
So today we got some Italian food that was even American good. Like I said before as PCVs we eat anything that isn’t nailed down. I eat so much more here than I do in the states, which is ironic because most people feel sorry for you when you go into the Peace Corps and assume you’re going to come back to America emaciated. Not so. But, once I get to my village I’ll be eating nothing but buhobe and fish, which I’m sure I’ll grow to love in a Namgood way, but I won’t have junk food readily available. So I figure I might as well enjoy the ice cream and candy bars now… Oh and speaking of food I made chocolate chip cookies for my host family and they loved loved loved them. So if you ever find yourself baking for a Namibian definitely go for the chocolate chip cookies.
Hello again! Now that I have internet I can post blogs all the time…so exciting! Don’t get too used to it though because I’m not sure what my internet will be like at site since Kabbe doesn’t get the best cell reception. I kind of have to stand in one corner of my hut to hear anything, which is kind of creepy because I don’t like to stand in my hut in the dark just in case there might be lizards and snakes and things running around my feet. Eek.
Well I’ve been back from site visit for 2 weeks and now I have less than 2 weeks until I leave for my permanent site, which is insanity. On the one hand I’m ready for training to be over because I am starting to get really tired of the sessions. Every morning we have 4 hours of language training which is extremely draining. Then after lunch we usually have some kind of cross cultural or technical session, which are usually terrible because it’s 90 degrees, the presentations are given by Namibians who usually speak quickly and mumble, and they’re on subjects like the history of education in Namibia. It’s a struggle to stay awake. I think I’m going to be really sad when training is over though because I’m really going to miss the other PCVs in my group. I love the volunteers in Caprivi, so I’ll have awesome people to hang out with on weekends, but I’m really going to miss the folks from group 30 who are going to be all over the country and nowhere close to me. Time is really going by fast though! I’ve been in Namibia for 6 weeks already. Only 2 years to go…
For the past 2 Saturdays we haven’t had any training sessions so we decided to free hike down to Windhoek to do a little shopping and eat some great food. We found the best Indian restaurant in Windhoek last week which I am definitely hitting up every time I’m in town, and then we went to the movies and saw Up. I’m going to miss going to the movies once I get to site…it’s one of my absolute favorite things to do. Getting back to Okahandja last week was quite an adventure. We didn’t want to spend money on a taxi, being poor volunteers who just spent about 10 days worth of PC allowance on Indian food and a movie, so we decided to free hike back to Okahandja. We left the mall at around 5 and started to walk to the hike point. We weren’t really sure where we were going so we followed signs to the B1 in Okahandja. We walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and then realized that we were going the wrong way. Whoops. So we doubled back and walked and walked and walked some more, and realized we were cutting it pretty close by getting to the hike point so late. So we flagged down a car that dropped us off at the hike point and started attempting to wave cars down. The only ones that stopped weren’t going to Okahandja or were taxis that wouldn’t leave when we told them we didn’t want to pay for a ride (In weird PCV Nam talk: “But we are only volunteers, and we are not having money.”) Finally we started to get a little worried so we texted Raymond, our super dreamy safety and security officer and secret boyfriend of every female PCV in Namibia, for the number for a cab. I guess he got kind of worried that we were in Windhoek so close to nightfall because he asked where we were and said he was coming to find us. Well, the PC policy on free-hiking is “don’t do it” so we definitely didn’t want Raymond to know we were at the free hike spot so we started frantically walking to a spot that wasn’t the hike point, even though we were basically busted because there’s nothing in that part of Windhoek except the highway. As we started walking an open back bakkie (pick up truck) pulled over with 2 very nice drivers who let all 7 of us pile into the back. Well, if free hiking doesn’t exactly jibe with PC policy, riding in an open bakkie is also one of those “don’t do it” rules. We texted Raymond to tell him we “found a taxi” and just imagined what he would do if he rolled up and saw us pulling away in this open bakkie. He would break up with us for sure. PC policy or not it was a great ride and completed an awesome day.
Today the Peace Corps combi was driving down to Windhoek to drop off 2 current volunteers who are leaving in December for their COS (close of service) medical interviews, so we decided to take a ride with them and then free hike back, for no other reason than that we were bored in Okahandja and wanted some more food that’s good good and not just “Namgood.” Namgood is phrase used to describe food that would be mediocre at best in our normal lives in America, but here in Namibia we chow down with gusto. For example, today I stopped at Hungry Lion, a fast food restaurant, to get some soft serve ice cream. A small ice cream cone was N$2.40, so about 30 US cents. And even though it was supposed to be vanilla but it tasted like banana, and it had a texture that was not really akin to ice cream, it was one awesome ice cream cone: Namgood. We have all found that our standards have definitely been lowered. Food like processed cheese slices that we would never eat in the states are now beloved PCV staples, and volunteers even admit to breaking apart chicken bones to suck out the marrow like our Namibian host families. To be honest I think we would eat anything that was put in front of us. And Namgood doesn’t only apply to food. Namibian TV also falls into the Namgood category. Most volunteers have become obsessed Namibian soapies. I don’t even notice the weird dubbing of “Lorenzo’s wife,” and the acting seems really good now. Namgood.
So today we got some Italian food that was even American good. Like I said before as PCVs we eat anything that isn’t nailed down. I eat so much more here than I do in the states, which is ironic because most people feel sorry for you when you go into the Peace Corps and assume you’re going to come back to America emaciated. Not so. But, once I get to my village I’ll be eating nothing but buhobe and fish, which I’m sure I’ll grow to love in a Namgood way, but I won’t have junk food readily available. So I figure I might as well enjoy the ice cream and candy bars now… Oh and speaking of food I made chocolate chip cookies for my host family and they loved loved loved them. So if you ever find yourself baking for a Namibian definitely go for the chocolate chip cookies.
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