Term 2

I haven’t written in so long I’m starting to get emails questioning whether I’m okay, so I suppose it’s time for a new post. At the end of April/beginning of May I went to “reconnect” which s part of our peace corps in service training (IST), which is basically exactly what it sounds like: technical training on things like project development and teaching to help us in our various primary and secondary projects. But really ISTs are an excuse to hang out with everyone in the group (the Dirty 30, as we’re the 30th group to arrive in Namibia and well, it’s catchy. We even have 30 people in our group, since we started with 33, lost 4 who went home and gained one who had a site change here from Benin). During our free time during IST we engaged in recreational activities befitting Peace Corps volunteers, playing chess, planning our secondary projects, working on our local languages (code for drink drink drink, and set up the Peace Corps projector in the conference hall to watch hours of Glee). We also had a Doppelganger party, where we drew names of our groupmates from a hat and had to dress up and act like that person for the night. It was pretty hilarious to see how not only do we have very distinct mannerisms that other people in the group obviously pick up on, but we also have so few clothes in this country that we could instantly tell who it was by the outfit. Stewart was me, so he wore my iconic purple t-shirt, chacos and jeans. A few weeks later I was in Rundu meeting another volunteer at dusk, and she said she couldn’t tell whether it was me, but then she saw that I was wearing my purple shirt.
After reconnect Brian flew into Windhoek to meet me and we went on a 2 week trip traversing 4 Southern African countries. I think he’s planning on writing a guest post about our trip so I’ll leave it at that.
So for the last 2 ½ weeks I’ve been back in Caprivi, getting back into the swing of teaching and village life. Actually last week I had to miss a week of school to attend a grade 7 Maths workshop in Katima. Namibians are constantly planning workshops forcing teachers to miss school to discuss things that could have been done in half a day, or via a “circular” (memos that are rumoured to be distributed to all schools, but I somehow never seem to see them. Then when I ask questions like, “did they change the grading scheme for upper primary grades and not tell anyone?” I hear “well didn’t you get the circular?” Nope.) This workshop was particularly painful. We spent a day talking about filling in our continuous assessment forms, which I thought had to be filled out every term, so I have no idea what the teachers at the workshop did last term. Then we talked about files. Oh files, the bane of every education volunteer’s existence. All teachers in Namibia are supposed to have 5 files, each with a different title but with the same papers in them that are impossible to find. They have to be neatly organized and covered with wrapping paper and your performance as a teacher is judged solely on these files. I mean, it doesn’t matter if your learners are doing well or if you can actually teach, if you don’t have those files you fail. I haven’t made my files yet, which probably makes me a terrible teacher. No matter that my grade 7s who started the year not being able to multiply now know all of their times tables.
Maths is, as they say here, a problem. I’m pretty sure that in the lower primary grades (1-4) they do not learn math. At all. They learn how to count up to 20, and recite it 100 times a day (and apparently all forget about 17, according to Andrew who’s listened in on these lessons). Then, suddenly, in grade 5, they’re supposed to start doing long multiplication and division, learn about fractions, decimals and what and what, and they don’t know how to add or subtract or know their times tables. Then, by grade 7 they have a national exam which tests them on what the syllabus says they should be learning, such as multiplying and dividing fractions and decimals, geometry, and the what and what. Then they obviously all fail, literally. At my school last year we had a 0% pass rate. I think the pass rate for the region was 20%. Then we have workshops to discuss why they’re failing, which is obviously because teachers don’t have wrapping paper covers on their binders. Is my frustration with the Nam educational system coming across?
So anyway, I’m trying to take pleasure in small accomplishments, like the fact that I can now ask a kid what 9 times 7 is and she generally knows the answer. I mean, some don’t, but it’s baby steps. So that was my week last week, but made better by the fact that a pizza restaurant opened in Katima and I ate pizza 4 times in 5 days. Our standard of living in Caprivi is improving.
So that’s about all the updates in my life. Not too exciting (except for the pizza!) Today I have a holiday because it’s the Day of the African Child, commemorating the student uprisings in Soweto in 1976 to protest the apartheid education in South Africa. So now I get a random Wednesday off of work! I should spend this time lesson planning and working on setting up the school library but I’ll probably cuddle up under my blankets (it’s winter here now and it is COLD, way colder than I actually thought it would ever get) and watch Friends. Ahh Peace Corps life.

a dog named banana

I just completed my first term of teaching! The end of term exams were pretty much standard for Namibia. They didn't send the exam timetable until the second week of exams, then they didn't send any of the exams on time so it was pretty much chaos for 2 weeks. I finished recording all of my term marks which meant I had to track down just about every learner and force them to hand in their work, which took about 2 weeks, only to find out that we don't count the term marks, or continuous assessment first term. And actually the April exams don't count at all. Yup, makes a lot of sense. But in marking all of this work I did come across some gems so I figured I would type them up now for your reading pleasure.

Grade 7 composition about what happened when a boy got a dog for Christmas, written by Nchindo Mukaya:

"last christmas i received a dog called banana. banana is a good dog. it is have colour that i like most in my life. Its colour is blue, green, yellow, it have long tail and it have four legs and big eyes." The composition ends: "but sometimes my dog is very bad. It can kill someone."

A composition I assigned for grade 7 asked them to write a letter to someone from another country. One kid wrote to me in South America, one wrote to Jacob Zuma and one wrote to Robert Mugabe.

Philosophy Lutaka Mutamezi: "How are you? robert mugabe it seems to me you are fine me two i am fine just like that life goes on.

Given Thikukutu: Diversity Tour application, if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?:

"I would go to north america to visit miss emily brown's family and i would love to meet miss emily brown's family because miss emily brown is like my friend. I always stay with him and she always tells me stories about his family thats why i want to go to north america."

Things to work on next term: punctuation and pronouns.

America the Beautiful

A funny thing happens when you're a Peace Corps Volunteer and you're nearing your 8 month mark of volunteer service. You start to love America and all things American. Now, I don't consider myself overly patriotic. I don't have an American flag sticker on my car in America. My learners have been bugging me to sing them the American national anthem but I've been refusing because 1. i don't want to humiliate myself so thoroughly by singing in front of my class, and 2. I'm afraid I'll forget the words.

But after about 8 months of service, I find that I day dream about the simplicity of owning a car (PCVs can't drive), and being able to just get into that car, drive on the right side of the road (here they drive on the left hand side, or, sometimes, the middle) and go to the store. And even if you don't have a car there's reliable public transportation. Like, you know there's a bus that stops here, wait here and in a reasonable amount of time there will be a bus. Here if you need to go to town you can wait anywhere from 0 to 3 hours. And even if I do get a ride right away there's no guarantee that we won't make multiple turns and take an extra hour and a half, getting to town, by which time I have to turn around and go back to the village. If I run out of toothpaste in the middle of the week I pretty much have to wait for the weekend. And even then there's no guarantee that I'll get a ride into town. In America when you want to do something you can just do it. You don't have to think about it. Here, going to the bank can take 6 hours of waiting in line only to have the window close when you're the next person up. In America you can get a haircut, go to the bank, go to the post office and go shopping in like, a MORNING! Here that would probably take at least 2 weeks.

What else is amazing about America? The food. Oh the choices! The quality! If you want to go out to dinner you have SO. MANY. CHOICES. Indian food, Thai food, Mexican food...a fellow volunteer who extended for a 3rd year recently went home for her 30 days of leave and while she was there she ate 18 burritos. Burritos! Sometimes I would give my right arm for guacamole. And beer! Oh I miss a good microbrew. Alas our choices in Namibia are quite limited. Sometimes on a friday evening I just want to kick back with a nice cold magic hat #9. If I'm in town I can settle for a Windhoek or Black Label but in the village it's inappropriate for me to drink because I always have learners around. But even a Windhoek just ain't the same.

Also, in America it's not hot all the time. Sure it gets cold, but then when it's cold you can take hot showers and wear sweaters and thick socks and cuddle up into bed. Here when it's hot, which it has been nonstop for the last 6 months, there's nothing to do but sweat. And showers, well those are nice if you don't live in the village. I'm stuck with a bucket bath. With the combined dust, humidity and heat I haven't been clean in 8 months. Sometimes I think I'm clean, after I just took a bucket bath, but then after wiping my face with a tissue I realize I am actually just as filthy as I was before.

Don't get me wrong. I like Namibia (most of the time). It's just that being here has made me appreciate all America has to offer. So this weekend I want you to eat some good food, take a hot shower and crack open a cold one. While you do so think of me.

Day to Day

So I'm using free internet at the TRC and I'm going to suck as much as I can out of the 2 hours that I have. So I figured some of you might be interested in what my daily life is like out in the African bush. Basically, on weekdays I wake up at 6:10 to get ready for school, which literally takes me about 10 minutes since I have about 4 work outfits in Namibia and I don't even have a mirror to beautify myself. So ponytail, blouse, skirt, done. School starts at 6:50 with assembly, where kids sing the National Anthem about 6 times until they sing loudly enough, and classes start at 7. I teach until 1, when I go home to eat lunch and nap for an hour because I'm exhausted after teaching all day in the ungodly Caprivian heat which just does not seem to go away. Ever. Then it's back to school for afternoon study when I try to have extra classes to get my kids up to speed since I've been trying to teach remedial classes since my kids don't know their times tables and they're expected to know long division by now. But usually my principal decides he'd rather have the kids do manual work because, you know, it's all about having a pretty school and less about whether the learners know how to do math. I leave school around 5:30 to go for a run (I know, Namibia has forced me to start running. After fatty, oily, salty Namibian host family cooking I started worrying that the very few clothes I brought with me would stop fitting. So, running). Then I usually cook dinner, watch something on my computer and go to sleep. Are you bored yet? Yes, the life of a PCV is not very glamorous, particularly an education volunteer living in a village in Caprivi. If adventure is what you be after you will not find it here.

Weekends I usually spend doing school work, visiting my host family, and more recently watching the same kids movies I have on my laptop over and over again with my learners. They discovered that if they do stuff for me, like help me hang my laundry or fetch water, I'll let them watch movies on my laptop. Actually they don't even have to do stuff for me, I'm such a sucker. So I've watched the Lion King and Shrek about 4 times each in the last 2 weeks, Harry Potter, Fight Club which they inexplicably wanted to watch (I only let the older kids watch that). I actually kind of love my learners and I also love kids movies so it's kind of a win win situation for me.

When I start getting restless I come to town to get milkshakes and eat ice cream. So I don't really have too many complaints about life in the village. Actually with all of the lesson planning and marking I do it feels like I don't have too much free time, so when I do have some time to kick it it's pretty nice.

Well my internet time is quickly dwindling so I'll leave it at that.

Africa Law

In my grade 7 math class I'm trying to teach them about the laws governing mathematical operations (I say trying because I'm pretty sure they don't get it). I think there should be some kind of law governing life in Africa, something like the "Getting Stuff Done Law." It goes like this. Make a to do list of things you want to get done in a day. Divide that list into two. Divide it into two again. Okay, go ahead divide it into 2 again...yeah why don't you go ahead and divide it into 2 again. There's the list of stuff you can actually get done in a day. How far off were you from what you were hoping to accomplish in a day?

Case in point. Peace Corps sent a mass sms a few weeks ago kindly telling all PCVs they could either get the H1N1 vaccine or go home. Then they tried to convince us Caprivi volunteers to hike down to Windhoek to get the shot, basically meaning missing 3 to 4 days of school. No thanks. So they sent agreed to send the vaccine up here, but forgot to inform us until I called our Peace Corps medical officer last week with a different question about a prescription and she told me I was supposed to go to town 2 weeks ago to get the shot and I better go this week or else. Since the last 2 periods of my thursdays are admin periods (free) I decided to leave school early to get the shot and to get a bunch of stuff done that I haven't been able to since I live in a village in the middle of nowhere. So yesterday I dutifully made a to do list. Get shot. Meet another volunteer to get my package slip. Go to the post office to pick up a package and mail a birthday card to my brother (March 14: Happy 21st Chris!!!!!). Go to the TRC to write a blog, write emails to a billion people, look up places to stay for my holiday, download application forms for learner leadership camps, some other stuff to do on internet. Go to the stores to shop, and ask about donating food for EWA (PC run "everyone wants acceptance" leadership camp). I informed my principal on Tuesday of my plan and he said no problem. I knew I had a lot to do but figured I could swing it. But I forgot to take into account the African law of "Getting Stuff Done."

Firstly, my principal informs me this morning that there will be no school tomorrow because there's a mass meeting in Bukalo for all the schools in the area. Ummm, okay. Thanks for telling me? I love that they incessantly complain about the low performance of learners, and yet don't see a correlation between the number of days teachers miss school due to pointless meetings, and the low grades our learners receive on exams. But anyway. Okay fine, I remind him I was leaving at 11:30 today and he said no problem. So at 11:30, as I'm finishing up my math class, another teacher comes in the room to ask why I'm not at the staff meeting. What staff meeting? The one that started 15 minutes ago obviously. The way teachers are informed of staff meetings is that a notebook with the information is passed around from teacher to teacher and each teacher initials the page with the info. Someone left the book on my desk during period 6, while I was in class (I know, I know, what was a teacher in Namibia doing teaching her scheduled classes? I should probably have been sitting at my desk planning/complaining about how much work it is to plan for all the subjects I don't actually teach). So, great. So I go to the meeting which lasts until about noon, bouncing in the balls of my feet anxious to get to town while my principal reassures everyone that there will be food at the meeting tomorrow, he's just not sure if it will be just breakfast or also include lunch, but since we end at 1 we probably don't need lunch....Seriously. This is what Namibian staff meetings cover. Awesome.

So then I get out to the hike point in the pouring rain, since rainy season also follows African time and arrived 3 months late this year, or so they tell me since I don't know when rainy season usually starts. Luckily I only have to wait about 10 minutes before a car pulls over, so I hop in even though it's going to Lusese, abou 5 k down the road, before going to town. Of course, the driver then proceeds to stop for every hiker between Kabbe and Lusese, and then from Lusese to Kabbe, until there are so many people in teh car he has to tie the luggage on the top of the car. So it's about 45 minutes until we're passing Kabbe again, and I think okay finally. Hopefully this is a fast ride. But since there are so many people the car is weighed down, and the luggage starts falling off the top of the car so we have to continually stop, so what should be a 30 to 40 minute ride takes over an hour. Of course. So now it's 2 pm and I have to get all the stuff on my list done before the last cars leave at 5 from Katima, so I head to get the swine flu shot first of all, where I have to wait 40 minutes to see a nurse, and then he has to read the directions on how to give the shot to himself. So long story short, this blog is about the only thing I'm getting done on the computer today so don't be sad if I didn't send any emails. '

Well, at least I got 2 things done on my list. Sometimes the Law of Getting stuff done in Africa can be as simple as multiply by zero (and no grade 7 learners, a number multiplied by 0 is not 34.)

Almost 6 month anniversary!

I don't know if I'll be able to post before our real anniversary but that's right. February 21st marks my 6 month anniversary with Namibia. If this was any other relationship I could probably expect chocolates, flowers, maybe a nice dinner, but since this is Peace Corps I can probably expect to to be brutalized with either ungodly heat or a massive downpour, overrun by dung beetles and flying biting ants in my charming TRC room and to eat some delicious (?) nam food. Ah, true love. Well we only have another year and 10 months together (not that I'm counting) so I better enjoy it while I can.

Teaching has settled into something like a routine. I've gotten used to asking my learners to do something, like use rounding to solve complex problems, and then realizing they can't because they don't know their times tables or how to do long division. Or asking them to write a paragraph and realizing they don't know how to write a simple sentence. Even so we're ploughing through somehow.

Housing remains a problem. I have a beautiful traditional hut almost all built...but the ministry has to finish the last few components, such as the concrete floor, the door and the windows (somehow important nay?). Unfortunately, it appears Caprivi is broke. Broke ass broke. The ministry of works has no more money. Til April. How does this happen? Inefficiency and improper spending I'm guessing. Mawe. So I've been living in a spare office in the TRC which, as you can probably imagine, is less than ideal.

Well, I wish I had some better stories, but I just got done with a 6 hour time tabling workshop and my brain is pretty fried. The workshop was just explaining how to use a program to electronically generate timetables rather than the traditional method, to sit down wtih a piece of posterboard and last year's schedule and just change the names if teachers are doing different subjects. That's how we did it at my school and my schedule had to be changed twice the first week. It turns out the electronic program is really easy if you've ever used a computer before. If you're like the majority of the namibians who attended today it's about on the same level as rocket science. I was assisting the man sitting next to me when Scott, the Australian VSO who was running the session started explaining something and the guy next to me was obviously not paying attention. So when he turned to ask me a question about what had just been explained I asked, in the same tone of voice I use with my learners "Were you listening to Scott's instructions." "No, not so much," was the response I got. Ah tatata... i'm beginning to think the learners aren't quite at fault...

So anyway a better update is soon to come, hopefully. With pictures! Even though I always promise those...

First week teaching, Oy vey

Firstly, Happy Birthday Dad! Miss you!

This week was my first week actually teaching my own classes. It went pretty well considering I had no idea what I was doing most of the time. People here assume that because I'm American and their volunteer I know how to do everything, but, for one thing my teaching experience is limited to volunteer ESL classes for day laborers, and for another thing the way things are done in this country often make no sense! Like, for example, at the end of last term all teachers were told to complete their subject plans, or yearly schedules, by the time school started last week. But they hadn't allocated the subjects yet! WHAT?? Also, there's so much paperwork and bureacracy involved in teaching here. I'm supposed to make five binders. Five! I also was assigned to teach Math, even though I have absolutely no qualification to teach Math aside from the fact that I took some Math classes sometime, I think? The last Math class I took was statistics for my psych minor in college which I'm pretty sure isn't on the syllabus. As long as I'm one step ahead of the kids I should be okay though...right?

I'm also still getting used to the Nambiguity of living here. For example, every Tuesday we have morning briefings for all members of staff, which always begin at 6:40. So last week I was getting ready for school,and at 6:25 my host mom knocked and my door and said "we're late!" So I said, no we're not late, we still have 15 minutes, and it takes about 3 minutes to walk to school. So at 6:35 we left and got to the meeting at 6:38. We walked in and my acting principal started scolding us for being late. I explained that we're not late, that the meeting was supposed to start in 2 minutes, but he said we were supposed to just know to show up early. Obviously.

Two weeks ago when I was on my way back to site after reconnect I smsed my principal to let him know that I was on my way, but would only arrive in Katima the next evening, so I would miss the first day of school. About 5 minutes later I got a phone call from a man who didn't identify himself asking me where I was. Thinking it was my principal, who never identifies himself on the phone when he calls, I replied that I was in Otavi (about halfway from Windhoek to Rundu) and reiterated what I had said in my message. "Okay, let me know when you're in Katima and I'll come pick you up." Okay, great. The next day while riding in a very slow moving lorry from Rundu to Katima I got another call from another male voice asking me where I was. Assuming it was my principal again using someone else's phone I replied that I was about 250 k from Katima. He told me to let me know when I was in town and he would drive me to KAbbe. I said okay and hung up. Once I arrived in Katima, after I finished doing my shopping for the week I called my principal and told him I was in Katima. "Oh, okay" he replied, "well I'm at school now." At school, meaning Kabbe. "Oh, okay. So you're not going to pick me up?" "Oh you need to be picked up? Okay, I'll come early in the morning." Thoroughly confused by this conversation and having no idea what "I'll pick you up and drive you to Kabbe when you arrive in Katima" means in Namblish, I crashed at Kaitlin's house, and ended up getting a ride with a PC driver doing site development in the next village the following morning. Later that afternoon, while I was sitting at my desk organizing my things for school, I got a phone call from another unidentified number. A male voice: "Hello, where are you now?" Thinking it was my principal again, I said "I'm at school," (duh). "Oh okay, have you moved into your house yet?" "No." (duh). "Why not?" "It's not ready yet..." (wtf?) "Why didn't you call me when you got in yesterday? I was waiting for your phone call." "Wait...who is this?" "It's John, from the ministry!" Argh!!!!! It was this guy from the ministry who came to measure my house, and, since I'm a white lady, is obviously trying to get me to fall in love with him by forcing me to drive to the flood plains with him (another story), and offering to give me rides places. I felt pretty dumb for asking my principal to pick me up in Katima. Damn you Namibian vagueness! Didn't you have teachers to teach you phone etiquette in school? Oh wait...

So those are my stories of Nambiguity for the week. I'm sure many more will ensue over the next two years. Looking forward to it!