The Sun Also Rises

You can boil down any Peace Corps volunteer’s purpose–in any country, any sector, any time from 1961 to today–to the 3 main goals of Peace Corps:

1. To meet the need for trained men and women in the interested country of service

2. To promote a better understanding of America (and Americans) to host country nationals

3. To promote a better understanding of the country of service (and the people who live there) to other Americans

These are integrated throughout service and serve as a good reminder as to why I’m here. Some times of the year make some of these goals easier than others. For example, I’m not meeting Goal 1 much now, but once I start teaching that will be my main priority. Goal 3 is met as I try to update you all openly and honestly, and also when I return to the States. Goal 2 is also met often, as I’m asked, daily, a range of questions on American-isms. Which are so hard! So many answers and discussions must start with “it depends”. Even questions or conversation starters like “America must be so much colder than here” (my thoughts go straight to Phoenix), education must be so much better in America (Me: it totally depends on the state, the resources a school has, individual learner/teacher input), etc. I never know how to respond. It’s interesting after spending time in western Europe and now southern Africa, so many of the assumptions and questions are similar (particularly regarding celebrities, politics, etc.) yet some of the nuances are different, like in my experience, the French often ask about or bring up obesity/fast food and Namibians often ask what other languages I and other Americans often speak. It’s so hard not to just give a single story. I struggle with that in writing this blog as well. After all, I have to answer all of your questions with “it depends” most of the time as well. I don’t want to generalize, and I wouldn’t even been able to because I’ve only been in this country for 4 months.

Goal 2 is also met more easily when American holidays arrive, like Thanksgiving! For a mini celebration, I made my colleagues snickerdoodle cookies (biscuits, here) which led to quite a few discussions on Thanksgiving (a difficult holiday to explain, especially when Black Friday comes up (which is a thing here as well)).

My first holiday while serving went great; the last two weeks I’ve felt so much warmth and love from so many! I’ve been thankful for so many things this past week, especially the warm welcome from Namibians and other volunteers, my quiet village, rain, and my support system back home (and around the world). My week started off with a lunch with the U.S. Ambassador, Lisa Johnson. She took the education volunteers out for pizza in Katima while she was attending some events in the region. It’s pretty cool to have an ambassador who comes to our events and takes us out to lunch and brings us American goodies (Cheez-its, Reeses, and Milky Ways, oh my!). This is the third time I’ve gotten to meet her while in country, and it was cool to hear her stories and discuss our sites. (Plus, small world, she visited Pagosa last winter!).

The weekend following Thanksgiving, the volunteers in the region had a Zambezi Thanksgiving potluck in Katima. We all brought different dishes; I decided to bake my roommate Auxilia’s wonderful dinner rolls. As turkey is hard to get here (and a little overrated in my opinion anyway), fried chicken was the star, with complements of sweet potato casserole, stuffing, okra and carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy, watermelon, greek salad, green bean casserole, corn, braai meat (no meal in Namibia is complete without this), and 4 apple pies. It turned out so amazing! Especially for things being out of season here and sometimes harder to find. There were also a few Namibians as well, so it was fun to share in our traditions (Goal 2!) and get to know them and the other volunteers better.

One of my colleagues also took me after school one day to visit his tree farm. He has land about an hour east of my village, where the landscape gets even more beautiful. It is hillier, so the vistas are stunning, and greener, so even more trees. My colleague recently cleared his plot of land to plant all types of trees: avocado, lemon, papaya, and the star of the show, mangos (mangoes?). The mango trees won’t give fruit for another five years or so, but I totally see his vision. I’ll have to go back one day after my service to see it! It will be incredible. He also introduced me to his neighbors, one of which is an American who married a Namibian and moved here over 30 years ago. He wanted to make sure I had someone I could reach out to if I was feeling lonely or culturally drained. So thoughtful–I should mention this colleague is our life skills teacher/school counselor…so he fits his job well! Anyway, she made us fresh mango juice (one of the best things I’ve ever had) and in the short time we were visiting we discovered we were born in the same hospital. What a small world!

Feeling restless on one of my evening walks around the soccer field this past week, I decided to follow the tug of the sun dropping in the west. And it led to adventure! I had not yet been to this side of the village, and the sand and trees with the backdrop of the setting sun was amazing. I could walk under that light forever if it wasn’t so fleeting. I decided I would continue all the way to the gravel road, and then walk home from there. Shortly before reaching the road, I stumbled upon a herd of cows making their way back to their pen for the night (how they know to do this amazes me; I know nothing about cows). Watching them brought my thoughts back to Spain, to the town of Los Arcos, where on my Camino I got to witness the running of the bulls. This lead me to thinking how the cows in my village all still have horns, so I was glad they weren’t agitated and forced to run up and down a cobblestone street like that night in Spain. Maybe 3 seconds after I had this thought, I heard a disgruntled moo and looked up to see one (mind-reading) cow increasing its pace and going horn to horn with another. After 15 seconds of clashing, another decided to join in, and it was three of them locked in horns. At this point, I had my phone out to record (the sun setting was only the perfect Hemingway-esque landscape) until I realized one broke free and was turning my way. Just to be clear: I was very far away. Like 100m. At least. I was not on their mind. Yet me being my skiddish self, I still freaked out and ran, wishing I was back in the streets of Los Arcos watching behind the street’s gate posts; then, realizing how far away from them I was, I immediately hoped no one witnessed my little scene. Invigorated by witnessing that, and now much more cautious near any cow, I headed back home, stopping for a million more pictures. Then I ran into a Boma, walking back home wearing her shitenge (traditional skirt wrap) and lugging two containers of water. We exchanged the evening greetings and then she set down her jugs to talk. Uh-oh. My Sifwe script runs out after greetings. I decided to try to move from Sifwe to Silozi, the language I was learning during training, until I went deer-in-headlights and totally blanked. It was the first time I couldn’t fall back on English since I’ve been here and I forgot how to say everything except for ha ni zibi, I don’t know. After struggling for a few minutes, not knowing what she was saying or asking, we said our goodbyes and went our way. What an opportunity wasted! Immediately after, my brain remembered my go-to phrases for “could you repeat, speak slowly please, I am a volunteer, where are you going, what is your name”, etc. Ah, the frustration of language. She was good motivation though! I’ve been slacking on language learning, and it would’ve been fun to have even a basic conversation in Sifwe or Silozi, so I need to practice more than greetings, especially with my colleagues who speak English and can translate back-and-forth with me. Lesson learned and to be remembered: fun things are waiting to happen and new people ready to be met when I take a new path, or the path less traveled. That’s what keeps life interesting. Until the next time, I’ll get ready for more livestock encounters and Sifwe conversations.

I also got to talk to a few of you this week! From video chatting my family after their Thanksgiving dinner, to receiving a care package from my mom (something successfully reached me!!), to an email from the Gullons (ma famille française), to video chatting with college buddies (like Daniel–can’t wait for you to visit!), I didn’t feel so far away from home. I can’t imagine what Peace Corps would’ve been like 30 years ago…

It was a festive few weeks and I had a lot of moments where I did just feel so grateful. To be here, in a new country and new environment, to have the support of my family, for a funny video of Natalie, for a sunrise, for a joke shared (and understood) with a colleague, for a chance to whip up a new recipe. Currently though, I think I’m most grateful for time. Time to spend on personal goals, time to get to know my community, time to cook, time to exercise, time to work on Goals 2 and 3 (even though I’m ready to jump into Goal 1).

I hope all of you had wonderful Thanksgivings and that you have too many blessings to count.

Here’s some pictures:

My room!

Ambassador Lunch

Cow fight

In the spirit of American fall, I bought a pumpkin, roasted it, pureed it, and made pumpkin spice lattes all week. Yum. (And who knew roasting a pumpkin was so satisfying?!)