May 19-25

I wasn’t sure where to go to church on Sunday. I really wanted to find a Nyemba speaker. I don ‘t want people to get the idea that I am only here for the Rukwangali people. I wasn’t going to go to church, but I forced myself to. I am so glad I went because I met some wonderful people at, possibly, my favorite church. This church was about 30 people. They were very friendly and welcoming! It was funny because the pastor talked about me thinking I didn’t understand, but I did! They were so impressed. They were very thankful I was there to work and kept shouting “Alleluia, amen” (Gospel Church) and sang songs of thanks. I felt a bit uncomfortable because I think the pastor may have done a sermon about me. He apologized for not having an interpreter, but I said I would rather not have one. One huge personal triumph for me during the service was that I got over my American sense of dignity and danced around the church like the rest of them. An even bigger piece of growth was when they asked me to sing a worship song by myself. People know me that, although I have been in choir before, I hate singing solos or even in person with my friends. I have never done it for anyone except my family. I hate my voice. But I decided to take myself out of my comfort zone and just sing and worship. Apparently it sounded really good to them. Seems small, but it was huge for me! I sang the Barocha. The words are “The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord turn his face toward you. And give you peace, and give you peace, and give you peace forever. The Lord be gracious to you. The Lord turn his face toward you. And give you peace, and give you peace, and give you peace forever.” There was a part of the service that I am not accustomed to. They cast out demons. Two women flailed around, rolled around and outside the church, screaming and foaming at the mouth. During this we kept singing and clapping for 25 minutes until my hands really started to hurt! After church I was in an amazingly good mood. I went to my supervisor’s place and she fed me lunch. I hung out at her place for the rest of the day, watching TV, relaxing, and enjoying life.

The 20^th began in a bit of a sad way. I had to say goodbye to a host brother who was going back to school because break was over. Most children in Namibia, it seems, stay at boarding school (called hostels here), and live away from family. I won’t see him until late June. This host brother is my buddy. He is extremely intelligent and I think he can meet his dream of becoming a doctor. He was a very good Rukwangali teacher to me and he would ask countless questions about everything. After I said goodbye to him I had my normal breakfast Wheatbix, milk, and sugar on top. I typed up my journals as I greeted and screened patients. This is what I did all day, pretty much. 

The 21^st was my birthday. Many people, especially my girlfriends, get really excited about their birthday, but I don’t really care about mine. For most of my life I have been content with just celebrating with my family. I haven’t been home for my birthday that much in the last five years because I have been on choir tour or I was in Ohio. I get uncomfortable with attention from anyone, but my family, when they celebrate me. I love celebrating everyone else’s birthday for sure! I really love my family though because they are so loving, supportive, and encouraging. My parents sang happy birthday through Skype and had my birthday sign up in the background (the birthday sign is a tradition since I was a baby, I think). I deeply appreciated it. They are the most wonderful support system I have besides God. Anyways, no one in Namibia, besides a few other PCVs, knew it was my birthday. I was happy to receive a few sms’s from them. I had an awesome lunch of Basmati rice and lentils. Side note: I have always hated hot sauce, but thanks to my friend, Jay, I have fallen in love with Chipotle Tabasco Sauce. It is not like other hot sauces, and I am addicted. I put it on any savory item and it makes life complete. I was so fortunate because they sell it here in Namibia!!! One thing happened after lunch that showed a difference in culture between America and Namibia. I heard a yelp from a dog outside and heard a lot of laughter. I saw a dog laying on the ground motionless. There was a lot of laughter from all the Namibians. I was asking what had happened and was told “It’s dead.” I couldn’t understand why they were laughing uproariously. My first instinct was to go check and see if it was okay. It wasn’t dead, thank goodness, and it walked away. It turned out that one of the guys had thrown a rock and knocked it unconscious. I explained to them the cultural difference. Many Americans would be shocked, but it is what it is. In towns in Namibia, dogs are treated as pets, but in rural areas, they are not pets. It isn’t bad per se, it’s just different. Anyways, around 3pm, I went with the nurses to the memorial service for the two people from the same family who died of HIV/AIDS. I stayed for about two hours, until 5pm. After work I went to my supervisor’s place and showered and ate food. She late told me the service went for five hours.  

The 22^nd was a big day. I went to the burial for the two people whose memorial service I had attended the day before. One note: They love pictures and video and asked me to videotape or take pictures of everything, which I felt uncomfortable doing. But I valued the opportunity. The burial service, procession, and burial itself went for five hours. I met a lot of people. There were over 200 people. I was surprised to find a white Catholic priest presiding at the church. He just seemed so out of place. He was a German and didn’t speak the language. Being a social worker, I examine issues of race, power, and religion all the time, and this situation seemed quite stereotypical. It didn’t bother me per se, but it did provide some food for thought. The priest spoke for a longgggggggg time and I noticed many Namibians falling asleep and snoring all around me. It was pretty funny because I thought they were used to long services. We had to go through quite a bit of bush to get to the cemetery, and many people did not even know where it was. There was a lot of singing. Then, everyone, including myself, took pinches of dirt and tossed them onto the caskets in the graves. Surprisingly, this is the ONLY time there was any loud wailing, and it was from only a few people, and it did not last that long. I was under the impression that all African weddings were loud with wailing. I was disproved. All the men and women took turns burying the caskets. However, only the men buried the man and the women buried the woman. After that we walked back to the home and they had prepared a meal. I found myself literally encircled by 20 men of all ages and I introduced myself to all of them and asked their names. Later, I found out that being at the funeral had made a profound impact on the people. They were surprised and grateful. They were also surprised that the white guy would eat “their traditional food.” Knowing that my intended purpose had been accomplished made me feel really good. The funeral left me exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. I went back to the clinic and pigged out on peanut butter and bread. By the time I was done eating, it was time to go exercise. I decided to get water by hand from the clinic in two huge Gerry cans. This idea turned out to be the workout/idea from Hell. The world was against me. I thought it would be hard to walk the 1.5 kilometers from the clinic to my home with full cans of water. I was so wrong. It was awful, but I did not want anyone to help, and I just got more determined to not quit. First of all, the cans weigh between 40-60 lbs each and I was just using my hands and arms. The cans were too big and unwieldy to put on my back. The worst part was that the plastic handles had ridges that literally cut my hands to pieces. I could not go more than 25 feet at a time. I also forgot that I had to walk through sand dunes. The next barrier from Hell was the band of kids who kept laughing at me the entire hour or so it took me to get the water to my home. Next, I took a “shortcut” that took me through a field of thorns and burs, which hurt. Then I realized my shortcut took me to a fence instead of an entrance. After I got the water back home, I forgot my cup for my bucket bathe. The bucket bath was freezing. I forgot my sandals and got dirty walking back again. To top it off, I realized a large animal with hooves had urinated in my shower area that I had just showered in. It was just so awful that it was funny! Good story though! 

The next morning, the 23^rd, I woke up feeling awful, physically. My body hurt soooo bad. I was supposed to go with the community health volunteers into the community, but that plan fell through. I just ended up packing pills and taking the weight and temperature of patients all day. I also talked to my Peace Corps supervisors on the phone. I told them things were going great! Other than that, nothing really happened that day.

On Friday, the 24^th, I went to Rundu. I love going to town. It I like a breath of fresh air, a vacation from life. I had to get a ride with my host mother because our normal car wasn’t going until later. We got there about 10am. I went shopping to buy groceries. I had to exchange an item because apparently I couldn’t return it. I didn’t need much so I splurged and bought American candy!!!  I bought Twix, Rolos, and a Kit Kat, as well as Cadbury’s Milk Chocolate Bar. Then, I had an early lunch at the open market. I love the food; so go and so much of it. I went to the PC office and skyped my friends Crystal and Kimberly. I appreciated Kimberly so much for getting up at 3am to skype! Now, that is an awesome friend! I spent several hours there. Then I walked back to the car and waited to leave. I ended up finishing all my chocolate by that night haha. It tasted so good! On the way back we almost crashed into a bunch of cows, which is a common way people get into accidents here. I went home and ate and went to bed. 

The morning of the 25^th sucked. It was the suckiest morning I’ve had in Namibia. I was just really worried. Anyways, the morning got better. I attended a big community meeting. It was a traditional court session. Many people sat around a big tree while the head lady and her advisors were at the front. I was a little embarrassed when the head lady took my chair and sat me next to her at the front. I was honored though. A lot happened at the meeting. First of all, the head lady is power, she told some middle-aged men to be quiet and they obeyed. The meeting started with a man explaining how the day would go. The head lady would call on people and they would speak. One man apparently made a funny mistake and almost walked through the center of the circle instead of around it, which caused everyone to laugh. I was lost at what was so funny. It was very hard to stay awake because I didn’t understand most of what was said. Also, the sun was burning my right arm! A random dogfight broke out on the other side of the circle. Midway through the meeting, I was given an opportunity to speak to the people. I gave a ten minute speech about who I was, why I was there, and what I hoped to do. They loved it and were very thankful. Here are some of the proceedings of the meeting. They had so many cases they debated suspending most of them for another period of time. The main case had to be suspended because of legal issues. In Namibia, a case can be tried in the judicial courts or the traditional courts, but not in both. In traditional court, the punishment is usually giving cattle to the victim. The next issue had to deal with witchcraft and was very interesting. The villagers strongly believe in witchcraft. There was a container found in the village that the people believe a witch sent to kill people. They accused a man of witchcraft, but decided they needed to get more evidence from other villages. Another piece of evidence of witchcraft had to do with human poop. I am not kidding. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. It had something to do with a witch coming and cutting someone’s poop after they were finished. I am still really confused about this. After the court session, I had baked beans and rice at my homestead. Then I went to my supervisor’s and relaxed and had my greatly loved staple, peanut butter, butter and bread. I watched TV for the rest of the day. One note, my host mother cares for me a lot and calls me her son. Because she is so protective, when it gets late, she sends people to come get me. It is a minor inconvenience, but I deeply appreciate it. She and her family are wonderful!