(Thanks for the post name idea, Spencer)
Let’s take it back to night 2 in the Zambezi, my new home. Imagine:
The western sky a bright pink and orange (think sherbet ice cream) and clouds sprawled across the sky, their outlines glowing with light. To the south, a mass of dark clouds ominously rolling in. As I make my way back home from a walk, I stop every few minutes to take a picture, to the delight of my new neighbor kids (“Another picture, miss?!”). Every so often, thunder rumbles, followed by a long burst of lightning. Reaching my gate, I watch the cows behind my house happily grazing away, creating a symphony of cow bells (with my first-day rose colored glasses on, I thought this was such a wonderful sound. Glasses are now off, and bells are not such a welcome sound. If I’m not careful it means they are munching on my laundry hanging on the fence and making me worried about my future garden. Anyway, I digress from my sensory description). Learners are moving back towards the hostel for dinner, and the school grounds are quiet; it’s a Saturday, and most teachers (including my housemate) are gone for the weekend. I stand on my porch and revel in the silence. I feel the first few drops of the storm and head inside. Like clockwork, the power goes out. I make a no-cook meal of tomato+vinegar+S&P as an appetizer, carrots and peanut butter as my main, and an apple for dessert (the French way of coursing is still ingrained in me; too bad I didn’t have a wider stocked fridge/pantry!). I savor it, alone in my sitting room illuminated by a flashlight, the rain really pounding down now, drowning out my playlist. My first full day at site winding down.
During the day leading up to the sunset I just tried to depict, I spent my time trying to unpack, fetch water from the school tap 50m away (running water doesn’t always run), cook (that was so so fun; I also have an oven that I am ecstatic to use: bread, croissants, cookies…), talk to my mom and Danielle/Dillon/Natalie. All I pretty much had left to do was decorate! I want to make it as cozy as possible. And hopefully I will go to town soon: I need a fan ASAP. I’ve been dripping in sweat all day, and I do not sweat easily. I’m just trying to think about the majority of my life where I’ve felt cold and hated it. The heat is better…right? I also have a small cockroach problem, so I need to pick up some repellant. Starting Monday, I will observe classes and meet my other colleagues! Big day.
As mentioned, my housemate left for town for the weekend, so I was left on my own to clean/unpack/organize. I loved it. I realized this was truly the first time I’d been alone since leaving the States. I didn’t realize I was craving it so much. An entire unstructured day to myself was such a luxury, and as you may have noticed, I was much more in tune with my senses. It was also the first time that it hit me. It being Peace Corps. It being living in Namibia. It being a two-year commitment. And regarding those overstimulated senses, I had several overwhelming moments during those first few days. Not necessarily in a negative way, I felt on a pendulum of different emotions. It will be a journey. I was a little naive in thinking that I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed moving to site. The surrealism of Peace Corps and my present life is quickly escaping me. I am here. I am doing it! I will be pushed and challenged, ecstatic and exasperated, independent and lonely, sometimes all at once. And I believe I will come out better after. I wonder who I’ll be in October 2020. I’m excited to find out!
As also mentioned, I live on the school grounds, which should prove to be (obviously) convenient. I can come back home for tea time, I won’t have to worry about forgetting anything, and I’ll be more available to my learners after school (I can easily attend study sessions or stay at school longer). Besides my housemate, Auxilia, a maths (not a typo) teacher, I met another one of my colleagues, Sylvia, who teaches life science and agriculture. She was so welcoming and briefly showed me around the village. Which is the other perk of living with another teacher and near other teachers: immediate integration (or attempts at integration). Plus, so many of my questions can be answered, and I already know who to go to if I need help.
And just to touch on my last bit of PST:
The last week of training was fine and uneventful. Now that we knew our sites, it was hard to stick to the same routine and sit through sessions. We were ready to go! We had some last minute technical and policy sessions, and our final LPI (language proficiency interview). I scored an intermediate mid in Silozi, which met the minimum requirement and means I don’t have to retest at mid-service. I just have to stay motivated now to keep learning! I have a radio I’m excited to use when I get to site, and I’ll have fun practicing with my counterparts. I also may have to learn another local language, Sifwe, which my language teacher tells me is the mother tongue of most people in my town. So we’ll see how that looks when I meet more people in my village!
Swear-in was a nice closing ceremony. The U.S. Ambassador, the PC Namibia country director, the Deputy Director of the Namibian Ministry of Education, and our Director of Training all gave us nice send-off speeches. We also had 2 people in our cohort give a speech, and me and another trainee led an oath. We also had been preparing 2 songs (one was in Silozi!) to sing and dance to say thank you to our host families. After pictures, food, hugs, and goodbyes, me and the 4 other Zambezi-bound volunteers hopped in a kombi (10-passenger van) with all of our things and started the first leg of our 2-day journey. Fast forward to another day of travel and my first elephant siting! On our way to site, we had to drive 2-3 hours through a national park that intersects a lot of elephant migration paths. Right when we entered the park, we saw a herd of about 20 near the road. I’m so excited to see many more these next two years! And, just like that, me and all my things were dropped off at my new home and here I am, Day 2 in the books.
All in all, with all the emotions and moving and big change, I’m looking forward to 1000 more Zambezian nights (ok, Mom, don’t worry, technically it’s more like 729 nights).