OH-SIX-6 and the 4 ONE ONE

066 and 411. the 2 most important numbers in my life. the former refers to the town code for rundu. the second refers to the best day of my life. but instead of giving details on that, i will highlight everything that happened before 4/11 and after since my last post :)

so heres the deal: don't really feel like trying to tie my life together in some concise [vocabulary word] fashion. and i already used the insert transitions idea. so…im just gonna have a bunch of random subtopics. enjoy.

"uhhh what time is it?"

i suppose that one bit of information that i ought to divulge before i get to the crux of this post is that i don't know what time it is. its not cause my watch was ripped off my arm or that my cell phone suddenly stopped working. so day light savings occurred last week. and in typical fashion (since winter is approaching) we fell back an hour. seems simple enough. but despite that it was widely known that this was happening, i was still a bit apprehensive. so it was sunday night and i went to bed not sure if i ought to fall back or not. in the morning i texted some of the teachers to get an idea of what time they had. then i found out the following bit of information: our school will set the time back at the start of next term. meaning the end of may. meaning our school has defied the international time standards. pretty baller. and pretty confusing at the same time. but ill just leave it at that. 

[re]uniting. now that i mention it, in more ways than one.

reuniting with SUPRIYA. many people envisioned (or at least tried to) just what that might look like. some adjectives could surely be attached to the moment: beautiful, emotional, life-changing, heart-pulsing. it was better. so "my friend at the time", sydney, and i trekked along to botswana a tad unsure of how to navigate the terrain, where the town we were meeting up was located (or how to pronounce it for that matter) but no worries because kupi drew a map for us on a spare piece of paper that essentially would determine our fate.

-------kupi is also one of my fave people in the village who cannot be described in a mere post…but heres a quick visual: one night about a week ago when we were just finalizing the final exams and entering in the marks, he came knocking at my window (as he normally does) and beckoned me to the staffroom to work together. later i approached the staffroom, flanked by kiara, and there i saw him, Kupi: sitting in a revealing navy robe with NOTHING underneath (and yes it became quite obvious that that was the case) and he sat with an empty bottle of wine to his left and a loaded gun to his right. clearly the necessary tools to mark exams. also i ought to mention that kiara spent the night in the staffroom)

many apologies for the tangent cause i was just about to explain reuniting with SUPRIYA.  so syd and i managed to hike our way across the border and through botswana. we also noticed that despite the fact that namibia and botswana are neighboring countries, the differences were apparent. consider: the roads were more narrow. the huts were more circular. the trees were taller. and the cows were fatter. this is all truth. and once you've spent as much time in nam, you'd notice these nuances as well.then we reached maun, and more importantly our hostel. syd and i walked towards the front gate. i was shaking. i was nervous and ohhh so excited. and then we made eye contact. i doubt i could truly articulate what was going through my head, but just know that the reunion was better than i ever could have imagined. and then we did a shot. 

so we hung out at the hostel. sup and i got some necessary bonding time. as did sup and syd. and one other thing i ought to mention is that we saw the most brilliant spider ever created. ill just leave it at that. everything else that happened is better as memory than a blog post ;)

so predictably, we had to leave bots. before we did i found a gigantic leaf and gave it to sydney. i told her that if we can procure a use for this leaf than she has to give me N$100. well, she left it behind eventually…it just became too big to carry. sadly, we later did procure a use for it--a souvenir! cause we never got one in bots. although, ultimately, we did end up getting something much better than a leaf.

***also i have to give a disclaimer to explain that "procure" is my new favorite word.

important fact: the nam-bots border closes at exactly 6pm. after some strategic bargaining and negotiating, we reached the border literally at 5:59pm. phew we made it. but then we were asked the following question. 

"do you guys have a car?" 

"uhhhhhh no"

"well hopefully you have blankets cause looks like you'll be sleeping in the bush tonight"

"uhh huh..."

but then, as things tend to do here, luck bent in our favor. just as the gate was about to close its unforgiving self, a truck approached it. and it just so happened it was the same people who had driven us in the first place. we rode all the back to my village. listening to our music. watching the sunset. (rumor of a lion siting occurred) and then…well, ill just say once we reached my village, we were hoping that the ride would never end.

[re]uniting with kate. so almost immediately after we came back from bots…syd and i…….. kate came to NAM! kate is one of sydney's best friends and she got to stay in kavango for 3 weeks and immerse herself in our region. so obviously, i learned how to rear a goat with kate around but i wont get into the details. on kate's first night in rundu, vegas also came up and we made some friends. im not embarrassed to say that these friends were 50 year old women. cause they were. they invited us to a braii and we went the next day. the following weekend, we all went to popa falls a "waterfall" east of my village. the only thing was was that you cant access the waterfall during this season cause the river was too high. oops. instead we procured some friends and while we sat on the bridge i also did what i do best--faciliated love via text. 

here are some texts i received from some nam friends:

"kativa (thats me) can you organise nangura (thats kate) for me. i have a black lady for you"

"matthew i need a husband to marry. do you think you could find me a soul mate to marry later today?"

[re]untiting with sydney….woops. sorry lost my train of thought. let me just continue. 

people of ndiyona, GLOW yourselves.

so you know the deal. GLOW--its our afterschool club mostly made up of the grade 9 and 10 learners at school. the ones who are a bit more outspoken, confident, and lets be real…cool. we planned a social event for the whole school run by our club. the event had  a few purposes: educate the school community about things we have learned, let the kids in the club take a leadership role and plan it, and also give the 220+ kids who live at school and cannot leave on weekends SOMETHING TO DO.  

one thing all of us wanted to do was to perform a drama that touched on teenage pregnancy and the danger of sugar daddies. so one meeting, a few weeks before the event i wanted to get a feel for how the kids act. i told them to prepare something to perform. expectation: kids would be socially awkward, shy, not into it, stutter, just like any kid would in that situation. reality: i was immediately enrapt in the play. not even realizing it was in one classroom with my grade 9 learners. it was realistic. there was side movement going on. props. and passionate, real acting. i was so impressed. although part of me was somewhat disheartened by the fluidness of the performance--it essentially showcased that these issues (teenage pregnancy, underage drinking, and sugar daddies) are all too common in our village. 

as for the social event itself, it looked like this: 

• sydney helped the kids with decorations. they were especially impressed with her "people of ndiyona, GLOW yourselves" poster (i hope you get the how to lose a guy in 10 days reference)
• T-Pain (a grade 9 learner) was the emcee. and he rocked the place.
• there were a few eating competitions. try 562. 
• it was probably 124 degrees inside the hall cause we had to cover the windows with sheets to prevent kids from climbing through them
• we had chugging contests (juice, don't worry) and my chugging skills came into play when i BEAT one of my learners who challenged me
• we danced a bit. and when i danced, place got insane.
• also the one baby in my village who is afraid of me because she thinks im a ghost, FINALLY LET ME HOLD HER. #winning
• we had bobbing for apples. but only used one apple to bob with. i later realized that the kids had been hoarding them in the back. 

"does anyone know what cat feces smells like?"

staff meetings. they're either the best (or worst) way to start a morning. we start each morning with one and they often dip a bit into period 1. i would normally love skipping time away from school…but as a teacher, its the worst. it would be ok if the discussions were substantive. well, ill just let you decide. 

so one morning 2 weeks ago (better known in nam as "last of last week") there was poop found on my learner's bed in the hostel. reaction that you'd expect: a cleaning crew cleans and sanitizes the area. a new blanket provided. not too much publicity made out of the incident. but this is nam. so that morning. the poop began to harden while our discussion commenced. was it human or cat feces? valid question, i presume. then, the hostel manager asked the teachers, "does anyone know what cat feces smells like?" but heres the thing. even if i (or anyone else for that matter) could distinguish between various animal feces…it probably wouldn't become common knowledge. and so there we sat. silent. waiting for the mess to be cleaned. but more importantly, for the culprit to be caught.

now the latest drama encapsulating our staff at school. so witchcraft. its quite common in our village. while some of you might merely roll your eyes and read ahead. consider that perhaps its equally valid as any religious explanation that has also yet to be "proved." but relax and delete that drafted email cause im not saying i believe in witchcraft ;) anyway, heres the deal some male teachers have been complaining that they've been having sex dreams about one of the female teachers at our school. they soon discovered that it was the same female teacher. and that she was quite "aggressive" in all of them. so what could explain dreams about a hot girl? well, witchcraft of course. so the female teacher is yet to be called out but she was warned. and our staff meetings have been contentious eversince. example: our head of department walked out of school. in search of a witch doctor. this is the real deal. 

"so we'll be fluent in a few weeks, true??"

as a teacher, its easy to get consumed by the learners and your school. but as a volunteer its important to engage with the entire community. thus thanks to heightened interest, i decided to start an english class for the adults in our village. a simple after school activity  soon became my biggest challenge in namibia. at our first meeting, 20 adults sat eagerly awaiting the start of FREE english classes. soon after our introductory meeting commenced i realized that the gap within the class was WIDE. some adults were parents who had not completed grade 4. others had completed grade 12. others were workers in the hostel. but what was clear was that i had some decisions to make. and one thing ive learned as a teacher is that you must be decisive. and more important than that, you need to look decisive. 

i divided the class into 2 and then decided to have 2 sessions. one would be for adults who have little no to experience with english and thus need to start essentially fresh. the second would focus on the following: resume writing, preparing for interviews, writing business proposals, and perfecting their english. for the first class, my host brother, mashie, works as my interpreter which, in turn, helps him enhance his english skills. one thing that needed to be clear to all of the adults though, was that despite that their teacher was american, they would not become fluent in english or rich from an incredible business plan in a matter of weeks. expectations are sometimes insanely high when an american walks in. which is why its important for reality to be imposed on the class before you get started. 

once the classes did finally commence, it became so rewarding. engaging with the community, those eager to find work, some who had to leave school due to an early pregnancy, or those who are inspired by their high achieving child inspire me daily. and not only that, but i made a friend named thimoteus who is in a BAND. 

my second home

sydney and i have adopted eachothers  villages as our unofficial second homes. most people who join peace corps get the chance to intimately understand and connect with one village. which is incredible. as for us, we get 2. 

mavanze (sydney's village) weekend looked like this:

• i helped put the water tower some structure after a casual walk around the village
• one of syds host brothers gave me 5 dollar coin (granted it was plastic…no qualms)
• we went to the homestead where kiara was born. i met her mom and bro. ill just say im glad i didn't leave her there. 
• played a soccer game with the boys and then it started raining…syd advised me to shower quickly so i wouldn't get struck by lightening. so i showered in the rain right after she did. and it was magical. and no lightening strikes. 
• we had to locate kankala (again) who had ran off with my ipod due to his obsession with bedrock
• we pounded muhangu (video to follow)

"lets call her lily"

 i had my first experience in a southern village! school is over and i finally did what i shoulda done awhile ago--visit LAINE. perhaps its cause we live here and know our villages intimately, but laines village couldn't be any different from mine. the biggest difference: the concentration of homes which are made of corrugated iron and crowd a small farm settlement is truly unique. mountains encircle the small settlement and make for a spectacular view. but what was better than observing the village, was bonding with laine! for several reasons. she taught me spite and malace (my new favorite game…we have to finish our tournament btw), we got to watch gory movies, but most IMPORTANTLY we (temporarily) rescued a baby puppy (that was perhaps redundant) and we decided to name her lily inspired by black swan. despite the fact that she peed almost as much as laine, she became one of my best friends in nam. we cuddled with her. and fed her milk. then she disappeared. oops. 

then laine and i headed to windhoek. we split a bottle of champagne. need i say more? bonding session. check.

theres not a problem with having favorites…right?

as most of you know, the first term has come to an end. and as i alluded to in my previous post, teaching has been more enjoyable than i could have imagined. but what i love most about teaching here would never exist in an american school. like the kids and teachers essentially living together. the relationship between learner and teacher that is uniquely nam. and the lack of a mentor, or adult who believes in the kids, and so providing that, well, rewards everyone exponentially.

my grade 8 math classes surpassed their goal for the term. the goal for the class average was a C. the average this term was a B. and as a side, last year, the average grade in math was an E.

grade 9 english reached their goal, as the average grade was a C. additionally, the average for english last year was an E.

but now its time to showcase my faves. but what makes a favorite is not just "liking them" but their sheer motivation, work ethic, and performance, and leadership in the class. being a teacher makes me appreciate the kids who are inquisitive more than anything. the ones who, when pushed, reach further than ever imagined. 

Shashipapo Moses

he's in my grade 8 register (homeroom) class. he's the most modest and soft-spoken boy there. most learners in my register class are loud, outspoken, and enjoy the moment they can show off. moses, on the other hand, sits in the back and cruises through school at an unprecedented pace. he calmly and confidently exceeds all expectations and, most importantly, treats all of his peers (regardless of ability) with the respect that they all inherently deserve. no judgment, just quiet guidance. he received a 99% in math. often when im walking around the village with a moment to just think (perhaps while gazing at the stars a bit) i ponder, "where will my kids be in 5 years, 10 years, in the future?" i ponder because im truly curious and excited but also anxious that they harness their obvious potential. moses is always the first i think about when pondering that thought. purely because his future is unbelievably bright. 

Mbambo Kaveto

kaveto is also in my grade 8 register class. like moses, he excels and received a 97% in math this term. thats where the comparisons stop, however. kaveto is an outspoken leader in the classroom. he was elected to the learner representative council (LRC) and has made his foot print on our class quite obvious. he is the first to ensure that all learners understand their assignment and urge them to seek help from either him or a teacher if thats not the case. 

Ndumba Hellena

hellena transferred to our school just this year and she, also, is in my register class. she came in having no friends. she is bigger than all of the other girls and her lack of self-esteem was evident. so, as the teacher, it was my role to ensure true immersion in the school community. she was one of the first learners who reached a comfort level with me to inquire about education, ask questions about america, and seek help in her social and academic realms of life. now? she was elected to the hostel representative council and to chair the math club that i also run. she was one of the top 5 learners in grade 8 and she even has a vibrant social life. basically, she's smart and popular. perfect combo.

Mashika Basilius

mashika is a grade 9 learner. and the second best english learner in all of grade 9. he is the most inquisitive learner that i have ever encountered. from day 1, he took advantage of the purpose of having an american teacher--he engaged in cross-cultural dialogue asking about airplanes, schooling in america, my family, and careers. he's ambitious but his confidences hovers at a level that one would never expect based on his academic successes. he lost his mother at the start of the school year and instead of conceding and falling through the cracks, he's pushing himself and challenging himself despite that he sometimes loses faith. thus as his teacher and mentor, im working with him to restore that. 

Marembo Prisca

prisca is 15 years old. a grade 9 learner and undoubtedly the brightest learner in all of grade 9 and perhaps in the entire school. she's a leader, she actively engages in class discussions, and she is confident. she refuses to subscribe to the gender norms that she easily could have inherited. she aims to be a doctor and i have no doubts that she cant reach that goal. she's the one that i can always rely on to engage in provocative discussions in english dealing with peer pressure, self-confidence, teenage pregnancy, and HIV/AIDS. she doesn't merely speak, she engages, provokes, challenges, and her convictions are more than apparent. she is also a leader in our GLOW club and is the learner that all teachers rely on to excel, motivate others, participate, and make the school more than a school but a community.   

peace.

"kwato serious"

the following scene happens quite often so i think its appropriate that it share with you: syd and i walk along the gravel roads that make up rundu (likely outside our lodge) and then a cab driver shouts something out his car door--typically one of our names. not too eventful, i know. but then one such afternoon, our name was not spit out the window but this was: "kwato serious!" and that leads me to the all important topic of "namlish." 

"this one he is not serious" you will hear that from young to old, women and men, learners and teachers talking about themselves, americans, or even my puppy. what does it mean exactly? well, its kinda like an all encompassing phrase. its the phrase you dish out in leiu of a shrug of the shoulders, its a phrase to show sincere disappointment, its a phrase to merely mock a friend, or to imply that perhaps you should get you dog off that old woman's skirt. which leads me to my little twist (cass knows all about those) on the matter. my rumanyo skills have progressed enough that i can throw an english and rumanyo word together to make my own little variation. and thus "this one he is not serious" has turned into "kwato serious." and kinda like wiiwl, it has spread. even to cab drivers that i may or may not know.  speaking of rumanyo, i now greet my classes in rumanyo as opposed to english (part of my way to get them to view me as an equal and not some all knowing american) to which i am greeted with a standing ovation (my second ovation since the last time when i distributed blow pops to my register class on valentines day)

speaking of knowing or not knowing people (yet another common occurrence in nam that i ought to share with you) so picture this: im walking around my village, or perhaps along the river, or maybe even in town (and likely flanked by my little dip) and then some nam man comes approaching me asking the following "matthew..why don't you ever call me?? how are you??" well my instinctive answer never leaves my mouth because its this "uh perhaps cause i never met you before." but instead we shake hands, hug, and talk about enough things without actually compromising the truth (that im a little lost right now). the reason i emphasize this isn't cause its happened a few times, but literally every day and thus in order to get an accurate glimpse into my life its important that you understand this. people can meet you one time, perhaps even just in passing, and will forever rememeber you and your story. im working on my memory issues to integrate in this aspect.

but now lets talk about the unknown texts for a second. syd and i were enjoying another salami pizza as usual along the river when i received this text "matthew, im sitting right behind you." it was from an unknown number. typically such a text from an unidentified number would warrant a spontaneous bathroom break to plot your escape. but being nam, i wasn't phased and turned around and invited this man to our table and we indulged in the oil laced pizza together. i soon realized it was my friends boyfriend. soon after, my friend, tracy, also joined us and im going into gross detail for a particular reason so stay patient. the lodge is situated along the kavango river and faces angola and so angolans often come to the lodge. so we were sitting there kicking back (nothing bad just fun) when tracy pointed out quite an astute observation: a bunch of people were standing along the balcony and have been like that for awhile. 

"do you know why theyre all standing up like that?" she asked. 

"uh no" 

"well, they're angolan" 

"oh?" 

"angolans are used to war, so they're used to standing." 

makes sense. 

quest for petrol. finding petrol (commonly known as gas) always results in quite the adventure. so one day after school when two fellow teachers came knocking at my door and asked me to join them on their quest i enthusiastically complied. (although lets be real, it was more like this "francolino get your shoes on, were searching for petrol") so we sat in the back of the truck cuddled on the mattress and drove around the village and up to the river. walked around for a bit. mingled with locals. then we abandoned the car and approached some out of place gates that stood along the river. i quickly realized that this was not a petrol station (and when i say station, picture a small shop with a guy and a funnel to pour gas into your car from his milk jug) but embraced the moment regardless. the 3 of us soon discovered that this gated area was a lodge just kilometers from our village. we explored the area, took videos of ourselves, then walked along the river although my friends wouldn't let me get too close to it cause they worried that if something happened to me that the US ambassador would intervene (sometimes i think that they are serious. therefore my reply is simple: kwato serious!)

lets talk about stereotypes. part of my mission is to break them down and replace them with objective fact. i planned an english lesson on stereotypes. what i didn't realize was that that one lesson would turn into a unit. while my learners couldn't define the term they were more than able to provide ample examples. (wow, that rhymed) let me share a few:

"americans are so rich that they burn their new cars after one year"

"there are no schools in america because white people already know everything"

but this is one of my favorite parts of my job--provide my learners with the ability to search for the truth on their own and not rely on reported opinions in magazines. thus our lesson turned into one based on bias, point of view, and critical thinking. and being able to decipher the truth is an all-powerful tool, though always easier said than done. and instead of merely just denying the stereotypes, its about acting. such as the one about men that was mentioned "men cannot cook, only women can." and this transcends the village. the teachers often come in to my house and check the pot on the stove. no, not to take a bite of our food. but rather to experience the inexplainable--that YES a man can cook….macaroni, that is! 

breaking down stereotypes is all about seeking to understand the person that you have a stereotype about. and thus i hope that throughout my experience i can help you break down the stereotypes that often plague africa but at the same time i hope that the intimate exposure to an american will do the same for namibians. for every namibian who drops their jaw to my cooking ability, there is a man who reveals that he is the cook for their family. and that brings me to GLOW (guys and girls leading our world).

this year i established the GLOW club at our school: Our mission is two-fold: empower and strengthen the leadership skills of the future leaders of Namibia while, at the same time, navigating within the context of gender equality. when i first arrived at school the shame issue seemed paramount. but having gotten to know these kids as well as i already have, i realize that they merely just crave an adult role model and true respect despite living in a culture which prides itself on seniority above anything else. thus when we first established the club, i was weary as to whether or not the kids would express themselves on the issues that plague them and their community and, more importantly, how to overcome them. and they've already exceeded my expectations. we have 20 dedicated members and they are some of the brightest teenagers i have ever met. and thats the most important thing to remember: they're teenagers. and teens all over the world can truly relate. the issues, the societal and peer pressures, can resonate with them all. i assigned essays about injustice and community problems to get a sense of the kids im teaching. and definitely, some things that they have seen or experienced surpass anything i can imagine. like watching a friend get beat to death, or losing both parents to the HIV/AIDS epidemic, or lacking the family support. but what shines more than these issues is the kids' resilience and strength--something i can also barley fathom.  

we were originally only supposed to meet once per week but the kids pleaded that they needed this outlet and just comfortable environment at least twice a week: i obliged. we have had discussions about shedding gender boxes and why societal expectations of gender can be damaging. we are now planning to host a social event at school and perform a drama to showcase what we have learned. and i urge you to acknowledge that the fight for gender equality is not just namibian, nor just african, but global. not only do we have gender discussions but our aim is also to tap the leadership potential of the GLOW meetings so we are in the process of planning a trip to the University of namibia. its quite telling that when i suggested we plan a trip the one that the learners were loudly enthusiastic about was the one to a college.

so as you may already know, our school does not have any computers for learner usage. but the desire to learn is more than evident. so with my GLOW club i set up times for the kids to use my macbook air. and david and i set up a blog so our kids can correspond. and my learners are often checking their hair each time we take a photo to impress those american boys and girls. so then when the other learners got wind of this news, well, it got a little crazy. so i also opened it up to my register class grade 8A. and now my 8A class has become the 8[global]A[mbassadors]. so we are setting up another blog for them to post messages and photos to educate americans about namibia…to which this idea also warranted a standing ovation. [stay tuned for these upcoming blogs by the way :)] 

living on school grounds at a hostel school where the majority of learners also reside affords me quite the unique opportunity as a teacher. ive never been a teacher in the states but id venture to say that the investment in learners' lives is difficult to compare when you essentially live together in a small rural village. its impossible to measure how invested i am in these kids lives, and the source is purely the potential and love that espouses from each of them (ok, most of them!) i admit im not the strictest teacher at our school, but thats strategic. behavior standards are kept an enormously high level. and so i decided instead to replace the word behavior in that sentence with academic. i might not have strict behavior expectations but one thing that has been clear is that my academic standards are higher than they've ever experienced. and the learners are responding accordingly. they just needed someone to believe in them. i think belief in ourselves and from others is something we always take for granted.  

 so last friday, it was ndiyona weekend for me and syd and so we watched "she's the man with about 40 kids in the library crowded around my small laptop screen" but they still loved it. speaking of, if you haven't already seen it, please do. [nice.--i think only you, syd will get this] what else happened this weekend? well, syd and i stumbled upon a bush part of my village where we laid under a tree to avoid the burning sun. we intended on staying for a few minutes. a few minutes turned into a few hours. and thankfully it did cause otherwise we wouldn't have met the old drunk lady or played mankala with beans (or whatever they were) and sand. and how could i forget? syd also got to ride a horse. named sydney. sunday morning we woke up to the sound of learners (one con of living on school grounds) but (and here comes the pro) they were clearing my grass…gotta love those hostel kids. and then later that afternoon, one of my learners delivered me fresh maize (pro) and then also later that day, an oven. yeah, im not sure either. 

well i suppose its time for me to sign off from this blog. one of the teachers (who only calls me frankie) is literally knocking at my window. (why knock at our door, when you can knock at my window?)

also before i go, one last thing: my dad and chris booked their flights to come visit ('bout nam time!) but so excited to share this experience with them and so thats one more push for you ALL to book that flight. 

peace and lovee

keep up with me

i looked legit. no, im not saying that im some american stud. (although ive never been one to decline a compliment) but for the first time in my life, i was about to stand on the other side of the teachers' desk. id get to decide what we'd learn and how we'd learn it, who would pass (and who wouldn't), and i was the one tasked with the daunting challenge: teaching learners and shaping their educational  quest--and as if the challenge weren't daunting enough, need i remind you that me and these learners share very little (aside from that unbreakable bond called the human race ;). our first language, life experiences, and cultural context would never see light of day in the center of a venn diagram. and yet, none of that matters anymore. slowly that middle area is being shaded in as my identity is molding to fit in the namibian context.

so i stood there, along with the other teachers at our school, in front of the learners outside on the "field" where we have our weekly assembly. this time to welcome the learners back to school on their first day. i had the look of a teacher. confident. inspired. prepared. unfazed. it was then that i realized our fascination with a teacher. a teacher was always prepared. and why shouldn't they be? they only work like 6 hours a day? oh how i longed as a child to be on the other side of the desk. no homework. end the work day at 2pm. grades don't matter. 

being on the other side offered me a glimpse into a teachers head as i espoused the confident scowl to the chit chatty learners. uncertainty.  anxious. excited. inspired. and about that short work day and lack of homework…well, perhaps teaching is perhaps the only job where you don't get even a moment off (sorry, barack even you get a breather here and there) 

so thats where the parallels with american teachers starts and ends. because whats perhaps unique is that as we prepared to send the learners off to their classrooms on that ever-memorable first day, the following questions had yet to be answered: what subjects am i teaching? which grades? how many kids are in each class? which classroom will i teach in? but in nam, these (seemingly futile) questions will be answered…in time. so in the meantime, ya just go with it. and thats exactly what i did.  

so fastforward (an hour) and i became a register teacher for grade 8A, the grade 8 math teacher (4 classes in all) and grade 9 english teacher (another 2 classes). so what is a class teacher you might be asking in your head? a register class  is synonymous with homeroom--and though peace corps advises against us from taking on this responsibility, i decided that the extra work was worth the inevitable rewards. i came to nam as an education volunteer with one central focus: to educate and grow young minds through active mentorship and trust based on love and not fear. having my own register class to be responsible for could only accelerate that goal. plus, how else could i remake the arrogance of DRtothePR if not a register class of my own? since in nam the school day never goes precisely as planned, its just best to…well, go with it. and always be prepared. so homeroom lasted a bit longer than the allotted 15 minutes….it lasted 3 days. so what did we do for 3 full school days? well i wont fill your screen with too many details but heres a glimpse…

in the spirit of enhancing self-esteem and leaner ownership of their classroom and their education, i had each learner trace their hand (took a few demonstrations for them to get the hang of that) and inside each finger they wrote someone they admired (some already admired me…clearly trying to get on my good side…yes, it worked), goals for their future, their favorite singer, and adjectives to describe themselves. heres how one learner describes himself "i have a tung and 5 fingers on my left hand" (difficult to argue with that) and one girl proudly announced "i am short and fat" so together we hung the hands around the classroom. and the classroom (slowly) transformed from one with walls falling apart with one that evidently had bright young minds encompassing it. 

as i finally got to meet with my other classes (200 learners in all) they each traced their hands and filled in the fingers. ok so i wont go into each lesson for each day (though i know you're craving the fine details.) but heres what i do want you to know: each friday, i have my english classes write a creative essay on a prompt that I provide. it serves 2 purposes. the learners get to improve their biggest weakness: writing. and i get to literally chuckle (al right ill be honest its a more like my laugh during the 'hey mmmmm hey' she's the man scene) so i was scrolling through them trying to decipher their handwriting all while listing to one of 2 mixes syd made for me. so the first assignment was to write their autobiography. i wanted to learn about my learners. ya know, like their dog's name, their favorite color, and who their friends are. what i didn't realize was that these learners shared more personal and truly sad details about their life than i could have imagined. many have already lost a parent. some to AIDS and others because of lack of proper medical care. others dwelled on their impoverished life style seeking to escape. and then one girl wrote,"God put us on earth to play a game. thats all life really is. so we can only play the game were born into" truly brilliant. it was then that i needed a moment of comic relief (something that only roseanne barr--who by the way announced her candidacy for president of the united states and soon after i offered her my endoresement--could provide at the moment)  but then i read one girl's essay "i was 3 years when my grandfather kicked the bucket and when i was little i was always in hot soup when i didn't help my mother with the chores." gotta love those idiomatic phrases. 

my goal for my learners (other than the obvious) is to create an atmosphere where they feel willing and comfortable to express themselves, and to enrich themselves, grow and continue to learn. half of the 540 kids at are school live full time on the school grounds. the majority are OVCs (orphans and vulnerable children due to the HIV/AIDS epidemic and/or to economic hardship) and thus they are just craving that support that, in turn, will yield the best educational results. sometimes its not what you do but its what you don't do that makes a difference. when a kid asks a question, it means not turning our head and shrugging. when a learner doesn't understand a topic, it means not degrading their apparent lack of intellect. it means when a learner requires help, not turning a blind eye. it means when it comes to teaching, not viewing it as a job that ends at the ring of a bell. and thats why the line from an essay the learns wrote about a wish they had truly struck me. "i want to be a teacher like mr. francolino. he doesn't get angry or yell like the other teachers. he just teaches like i will in the future (spelled feature)" 

so remember when i talked about how in nam, ya just need to learn to go with it. (also if you don't remember, then perhaps there are other problems that we should be discussing instead) so let me explain another one of those "go with it" moments. in nam, one of the most hyped events is "athletics" which takes place during the first 2 months of school (?). i was excited to learn what exactly went on during this ambiguously titled month long list of activities. so one afternoon, i walked to my friends--some teachers at the school--and i just nonchalantly asked "hey so what exactly is athletics?" some shrugged. others nodded. and the most descriptive answers i got were essentially telling me that the kids "run." so thats when i decided to ask the teacher who is running the month long event. "the kids run and jump" so that was at least some more detailed information. i could be down for this. and despite not really knowing what was meant by athletics, this i knew for sure--team red (my team) would for sure have the most pride. step one: we wear red every day. 

so heres the deal: schools basically revolve around these track and field events for these 2 months and so in the afternoon, kids "train" (which means they are weeded out), classes are spontaneously canceled to increase the amount of training (weeding) and that brings us to this weekend. our school will be competing in the regional finals in the track and field items. im judging. should be interesting. 

speaking of my fellow colleagues (i like using that word--it makes me feel mature and smart) lets give them a little time on the blog. so as you know, i now live on the school premises--which is in itself its own community. 220 learners live here. as do 12 of the teachers. so i finally just got a housemate and his name is joseph. he also just graduated from college and he's become the perfect roommate. on his first night i made him rice and we watched 'how to lose a guy in 10 days'--couldnt think of a better way to orient our new teacher. i took the newcomer around our village and it was then that i realized---"woah, this is my home..and it feels as such" waving to locals, taking him to the shop, and then for a drink--it made me appreciate the home that ive come to have. 

on his second night, syd and i along with a few other teachers took joseph to a local bar and we were, of course, flanked by kiara. no thats not a local woman who is courting me (although i can see why you would think that)--thats my puppy. and now that i mention being flanked by kiara--i ought to let you know that my puppy has become a staple of our community--she follows me to school, to staff meetings and routinely interrupts our class, luckily the kids love her and…more importantly, people here respect her and never beat her, they know how much i love her. 

alright so back to my social life in the village. my one best friend--ms muyenga--had me over one night for dinner and a movie (hmmm now that i mention it….) and we watched a movie called "ousofia in london" about a nigerian man who finds himself in london and his culture shock is quite amusing. thats when she decided she wanted to film a movie called "matt in ndiyona" and we all know my desire to be in a feature film..so we'll see how this works out. but life in our community is so open. so serene. perfect. (i have a photo of a rainbow over our school that will prove the latter point) teachers just come to my house to hang out. people constantly visiting others. my favorite is when kids come to my door. i invite them in. they dont speak english. i don't speak rumanyo. then we watch full house together. kind of a  pattern. and of course, i still visit my homestead family as they always venture over to my place. i feel like im their son who has grown up. and then i blush. 

*****this subsection will be creatively and appropriately titled: bugs. (thats the best i could do for a transition…oops) so i came to nam being like "alright im not gonna be one of those ignorant americans who automatically pictures the creepiest and squishiest bugs possible when i think about africa." i arrived in nam and my convictions were cemented. then i went to my village. heres a brief description of what ive encountered in the past week: walking into my house requires the same routine: cockroach squashing--literally hundreds of cockroaches have invaded so i spend each morning and night putting those little beasts permanently to bed.  there are enough mosquitos in the room to get 219 mosquito bites in one night and of course i don't have the discipline to not scratch them--so the teachers always rub my sore wounds in curiosity, awe, and disappointment (always accompanied by a slight chuckle though as well). fleas attacked my puppy--thankfully the girl's a trooper. a one of kind breed of wasps (that makes them sound pretty cool) that sting any time you walk by them (my sting count is up to 4--including the top of my head) an insect that was literally 4.5 inches long on my shoulder (a photo will soon follow). oh and did i mention that i swallowed a fly. and that a cockroach came crawling out of my ear. sorry mama, i should have advised you to skip this section :)

so lets discuss life when im not busy changing the world (im conceded…shhhhh…i hope that sarcasm can translate well on the screen.)  last weekend--ludacrew (well most of us) had a much needed reunion. i mean, cmon, we hadn't all been together in a few weeks. syd came down to my village and even got to see me teach a few lessons (you can ask her for preliminary reviews unless they're already up on rate my professor) and we made mac and cheese for some teachers, ended the night with cut the rope (i promise thats a game) and then headed to our reunion the next afternoon. so this time the crew headed to tsumeb…aka the las vegas of nam. well thats mostly attributed to the fact the vegas lives there. so the reunion was necessary--laine (did i mention how much i love laine? she's amazing and perfect in every way…thats for you girl ;), vegas and i got to sing our adele-esque version of 'someone like you', chris and i concocted our plan to get our shot at reality TV on the amazing race, syd got to catch up with me on episodes of survivor and that was when we fell in love…with kim and ethan, respectively, then, per usual, we debated productivity vs. fairness, and then learned (pay close attention to these words of wisdom) that if you cook bread for too long, it can burn..and turn black. 

many times traveling around nam can be more eventful than the actual trip itself thanks to the need of hitchhiking. this trip back home was a little more low-key. but we did do one thing worth mentioning. syd and i played around the world on the side of the road as we waited for a hike. typicaly the game is played with a basketball and a net. our version required an empty yogurt container and some stones. still just as fun. then as we reached rundu, we said another emo goodbye. till next weekend, of course. 

i could go on. but its my turn to make dinner for the roommate. mac and cheese. again. but i wouldn't do my post justice if i didn't mention the sixers (who just beat the lakers i might add) and their dominance thus far. kinda reminds me of rick santorum. this time i wont even risk you not getting the sarcasm. that was sarcastic. 

peace and much love

sweet disposition

expectations vs. reality. at first glance this may appear to be an activity that a teacher gives to his or her learners to distinguish between perceptions and fact. but for those who have spent the last 30+ days with me over our seemingly never-ending vacay, its, more accurately, my favorite scene in (500) days of summer. so im chilling outside the pc lounge in rundu (for those of you who haven't been paying attention, thats the largest town in kavango) flanked by my flea covered puppy, suffering from some writers block but i pressed play on the 500 days soundtrack and immediately realized what was so prevalent in my life over this past month. expectations of namibia ≠ reality in namibia. much has happened in the past month (most that just cant be articulated in the confines of this blog) but heres a go to give you a glimpse of december in nam.

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expectation#1: when i made the decision to join peace corps, i did it accepting the following proposition: i would spend my birthday alone, in a hut, minus electricity, perhaps playing a few sudokus, and squashing insects that landed on my computer screen as i attempt to watch episodes of roseanne before the battery fades.

reality#1: so it was the night before our journey to swakop and (coincidentally) the night before my 23rd birthday. laine, vegs, syd, and i had made it to okahandja but with no place to stay, thankfully were in nam where people get married…often. so as we paraded around oka, we came across our training center from our first week in nam and noticed quite the pre-game going on. must be a wedding, eh!? so as we do best, we schmoozed.  syd and i laughed with our arms around elder men who couldn't care less about their lack of teeth because the beer just filtered right in. as we subtly (alright lets be real, im not the most subtle person but just bear with me) nudged in a comment that we had no place to stay, one man who took an interesting liking to me offered for us to sleep in the back of his truck (so we could all star gaze together, of course!) and thats when our other "friend" grabbed our hand and announced that he is the father of the groom (images of father of the bride swirled around in my head) and thus he begged our attendance at the wedding. uhhhh, is this like wedding crashers but we were almost forced to crash? of course!  so following the popping of the grape juice (some people prefer champagne, not these peeps!) and pictures with the bride and groom….the 4 of us made our way to club opouri (a classic spot) and from their syd and i ventured off…and stumbled upon…ya guessed it--another wedding. i danced with a 40year old woman, attempted to mimic the khoe khoe clicks with the girls, and proceeded to share a cupcake with them (thanks again syd), the night ultimately ended with a photo shoot atop a truck headed to o-land. 

the following morning, we made our way to swakup (8 of us crammed inside a truck) but its seemed so peaceful thanks to the soulful singing of "someone like you".  and the 8 of us reunited with the 30 others in our group on the coast of namibia, in swakopmund, a coastal town that mirrors a german town…probably more than most german towns do. and thats when the expectation of my b-day completely disintegrated in my head--spending my bday on the beach on the coast of namib our fellow pcvs….kinda perfect. 

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expectation #2: so if you google namibia and choose images, you will certainly come across the sand dunes that tower the desert and the coast of the country. this most certainly could not actually exist as they appear in pictures. there has to be some artistic interference going on. 

reality #2: well the truth is, they exist and we went sledding down the dunes. walking atop the dunes with your flat board that will soon serve as a means to travel down the dunes (80 km/hr), you have to just pause and stop and think. its almost like walking inside of a google image but with no internet access, you know its real. 

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expectation #3: the first baby i get to name will be my own.

reality #3: as you already know my host brother is mashika. so while i was still on the coast on vacay (it was on the 28th of december to be precise) i got a phone call that interrupted us watching "inglorious bastards". he informed me of the birth of his first son. when i asked the boys name, he said "i want you to give the name" uhhhh ok…ill be honest i don't have much experience naming babies. so i asked for a few minutes (i mean no one wants a rash name, right?) and after deliberating with my friends i called him back and told him "michael"--after my brother. 

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expectation #4: following our 9 day joinery in swakop, we headed down the coast (part of the time on an overnight train which would better be described in person!) to luderitz--claire's site. luderitz is not your typical peace corps site--its a coastal town and claires backyard is a cliff and the front looks out onto the atlantic ocean. so i assumed that heading back to my rural village in kavango, would be a difficult transition, after being teased by the cool ocean breeze and cliffs looking out over us…how could i be excited to go home again?

reality #4: ludapalooza was perfect. 11 of us were better known as fun czars (groups of 2 whose sole purpose was to facilitate fun in any way imaginable for a day). syd and i befriended a couple in luda and they had us at their house (they essentially live in a museum so we reciprocated the following day with buttered noodles and hot dogs), we opposom walked, braiied, peeps got boarded, jumped into the ocean as warranted by kjudi, had a pseudo christmas tree thanks to mo, had a christmas brunch overlooking the ocean, experienced the new years atop a cliff and saw (count em) one fire work go off. 

and then we headed back to kavango--where the infamous gin coefficient was on sharp display. it ought to be emphasized that namibia is the most unequal country in the world, and while the economic disparity is so evident so too is the cultural differences as you cross the red line. and as we crossed the line and into the kavango, i couldn't help but smile. so even though when i greeted my puppy she was flea ridden, and when syd and i entered my house in ndiyona it was smothered with upwards of 1200 cockroaches, it was perfect--to be home. for those of you who don't know, im now living in teacher housing on the school grounds. and more importantly, im working on making my house a home. so what does that mean?? PAINT…and yes, we painted a giraffe. (alright syd you can take the cred now)

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expectation #5: it should take perhaps max 2 days to get back to kavango from luderitz.

reality #5: it took 5.

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expectation#6: dogs should just be given one name. perhaps 2 if you're indecisive.

reality #6: syd and i went to the SPCA to pick up her new dog and his name is george…aka bunt, punchy, mowgli, pettey, zatara, rocco, scorsebey, or copper. you choose. 

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expectation #7: typically i'd assume that i would get sick of people if i spend over a month straight with them.

reality #7: never did. 

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alright the school year kicks off next week, preparations are underway. ill surely keep you updated on the chaos that will undoubtedly ensue. in the meantime, much love and peace. 

na shana kudana

disclaimer: you may wonder if i wrote this blog over the course of a few weeks due to the lack of seamless transitions. in reality, i wrote it in one sitting so please just forgive me for the lack of transitions cause i have a lot to tell you.

"until the lions have their historians, tales of the hunt shall always glorify the hunter" i was sitting in my hut with my brother when he recited this african proverb. and so i thought about it. this proverb, perhaps, explains how stereotypes and prejudices are established and cemented in society--the "superior" defines the "inferior."  prior to its independence, namibia suffered through apartheid rule and its legacy remains.  the legacy that was engrained in their society preached that whites are superior to blacks.  people in my village often appear to accept that they are inferior based purely on the color of their skin. however, i see shimmers of hope, shimmers of their true beliefs that they are truly equal but have never (until now) lived in a society where they could express that--the people who refuse to conform to their society's historical and systematic inequality. learners and adults desire to challenge the past's inferiority complex.  yet i still often hear my friends in the village say "us blacks" or "us africans" when shrugging and accepting their problems.  their jaws drop when i reveal that there is poverty in america, and that many of those poor people are WHITE, that yes, white people gossip, and yes, white people can even get lice. i guess thats what peace corps means when it says its a 24/7 job--im constantly breaking the stereotypes of the "glorified americans and whites" and explaining that yes, we are equal. so we decided at home and at school that there are so such thing as black or white people--were all brown, just different shades. 

so i often allude to the fact that our village is split among traditionalists and progressives. my life is similarly split. my life with my family at the homestead and at school with the teachers, despite just the 5 minute walk in between, couldn't be any different. 

so let me tell you a bit about life with my family. my brother, mashika, is one of my best friends in the village--hes also on the school board and is just a great person.  but instead of going into random details how about a story! so last week i got pretty sick. my stomach was churning but i decided to go to school anyway. so i was sitting in the staffroom talking with a few of the teachers when suddenly i felt dizzy, the room was spinning and the next thing i knew i looked down and was staring at my puke on the staffroom floor. yes, i puked on the staffroom floor. not my favorite memory at site but luckily in namib, people barely flinched as they helped me wipe up the mess with toilet paper. so natalia (my best friend and a teacher at our school) walked me home and i just wanted to rest in bed--alone. but wait….you're in a village---and thus not to be alone! so as i learned from experience, when you're sick in a village and you're in bed in your hut, people from your family to villagers you may never have seen before will be there to check on you.  well, i did not know this and so i laid in bed waiting for myself to recover when i heard a knock at the door. and then another. and then another. so to solve the problem of repeatedly having to get up to open my door, i just kept it wide open. and from then on villagers were walking in offering me bread, sour milk (yes  several times and not my drink of choice immediately after puking, but hey thats me) porridge, SPRITE.  i would drift in and out of sleep and each time i woke up there was a new person seated beside me…just to make sure that i was tended to. and this time my skin color nor my ethnic label played a role (ok maybe a little) but in namibia, "we are our brothers and sisters keeper" those words that barack obama tries so hard for americans to identify with ring so loud and true here. 

so for my family, i am the only mukua (white man) that they have ever interacted with (which is probably why they remind me every day that God meant for us to meet) well, that was until last weekend. so i arrived back at my homestead with some of my friends one night, when they notified me of the rumor that was circulating around the village. THERE IS ANOTHER MUKUA AT MY HOMESTEAD.  they expected me to be rejoicing that there was a white man that was at my homestead but i admitted to them that not having a mirror and being surrounded by black people has kind of led me to forget about my own skin color! so as it turns out this white man, was biking (all across africa for that matter) and needed a place to rest for the night when he approached our village.  well, of course, the people in our village pointed him to the home of the chief and the american. so heres his story in brief: he's from holland and has been on a 2 year journey biking from morocco through west africa and his final destination is south africa (so close!) so that night we talked about stuff white people like, ya know life sushi, (don't worry im kidddddingg!) no instead, he just joined our family with how we spend our typical nights---fending off kiara as she tries to bite your shoes, men gathered around a bowl of food as we eat it with our hands, card games, and, course, a movie.  movie nights at my homestead have become quite the craze at our village. it always begins with me and just my bros gathered around my laptop under the starry sky and then suddenly (unless i am enraptured by the film) when i look back i notice that somehow upwards of 20 to 30 people have gathered around from neighboring villages not making a peep and just taking in the movie. crowd favorites you ask: pirates of the caribbean and rush hour 2.

[imagine transition]

so mashika and i were strolling around the river and chatting with villagers when a (dare i say) sharply dressed couple approached us. also, before i go into greater detail, you must know that at this point i was beyond starving. so typically when you're hungry, the best solution is to go to a local shop and purchase some food. but being in the village…its more practical to pursue other means, like attend a wedding. so anyway the couple approached us and i know them from the village and they were like you must come to our wedding. and i was like well of course (apologies for the lack of quotes, but im sure you'll be ale to determine who is talking) thinking that perhaps it was in a few months or perhaps even a year. ok so i must stop thinking like an american, because the wedding was in less than an hour. as we continued down the river, we noticed a hippo in the water and so, along with a flock of children, we watched as one man played "how close can i get to the hippo without being attacked!"…seemed innocent enough. once we were ensured of his safety, we proceeded to the wedding.  

much of the village gathered at their homestead and before i could take in the wedding decor, i was grabbed by the bridal party and put into a truck and together we drove to the home of the bride where we retrieved a flag (singing and dancing accompanied this ritual, of course) and brought it to the location of the ceremony.  we danced. and danced. and then it was time for the bridal party to be recognized and sit at the well prepared table at the front of the hall. but one seat was empty. i was chatting with friends from the village when my brother pulled my arm and informed me that that missing seat was for me. "but im not in the bridal party" "but you're the american!" so there i sat, along with the bride and groom with their parents. and sitting at the bridal party table allowed us access to the "elite" food. now i suppose that a few months ago, macaroni and rice smothered in onions, ketchup, and mayo would not get my chops choppin but i suppose integration has set in and i was indescribably happy as i scarfed down the undisclosed meat along with the macaroni.  we drank a few windhoek lagers and i got to dance with the elder women, and was introduced to a woman that may (or may not) have been pre-selected as my future wife…unfortunately things get lost in translation, so im still a bit unsure.  

and now life at school (well aside from my duties as a teacher!) so i have made some amazing friends at school. the teachers at our school have been so genuinely welcoming and in that namibian attitude have taken me in as one of their own. i had concerns coming into a school as an american volunteer about how i and others would be received…but this is just better than expected. so last weekend, a few of us took a drive to popa falls--the waterfalls on the kavango river and had a picnic at the lodge.  one of our friends drove while me, natalia, annalitha, and anna sat in the back of the truck (on a mattress for added comfort) and just talked all about love, and relationships, and i had to remind myself that im in southern africa right now because sometimes i get so comfortable in my new environment sometimes i forget to look around and appreciate this. so im not sure if this was directly related to our love conversation but the teachers also kept referencing how they need to have sleepovers at my place….

so last week, i ran into the principal's wife (who is also a teacher at our school) but she was so pregnant that she stopped going to school. so i walked into her homestead, ya know just to see how she was doing (i mean she's pregnant after all) when i asked how are you, she responded "im good, im in labor right now" uhhhh what??? YOURE IN LABOR?! shouldn't we be doing something? like getting you to a hospital? telling someone? panicking? and shouldn't you at least take a seat or something? but no, she was just patiently waiting for her husband, my principal, to leisurely arrive home and once he did they would make their way over to the hospital. and then there was the principal driving in his gray volkswagon with his arm stretched outside his door to ensure that it wouldn't fall off. and thats what i love about namibia. people don't panic, people are not constantly stressing, life is enjoyed in the moment, even when you're in labor. so the next morning, our principal was back at school, seemingly unfazed, and i asked "whats the baby boy's name" and he just laughed. immediately i wondered if i had missed out on some obvious cultural tradition (maybe they're having a naming ceremony next week--how could i not know???" then he said he'd tell me at lunch. and when he uttered the name "francolino" at lunch later that afternoon, i thought he was calling my name--little did i know he was referring to his new born baby. so i admit meeting a boy named francolino was something i never thought id do (though i was deeply honored), especially while in namibia. i think, though im not sure, that he's the only african child with an italian surname as his first name…but who really knows?

[transition?]

for the past few weeks (before i officially begin teaching in january) i have been meeting with community members, teachers, and leaders to assess our village so that, together, we can work to improve conditions. and theres one issue that has routinely been raised, especially at our school--gender inequality: girls viewing themselves as inferior and boys seeing themselves as superior. as i alluded to before, our village is unique with traditionalists pitted against progressives. but the gender issue is crucial. teenage pregnancy happens too often at our school leaving the girls with the choice to drop out and become a mother too early, remain in school forcing their family to raise the child, and meanwhile the father has no legal obligations towards the child and thus boys fail to understand the issues associated with teenage pregnancy. HIV/AIDS is epidemic and men are often the perpetrators because women often allow their boyfriends to have multiple partners because its "socially acceptable." acceptable is in quotes because the women i talk to do not accept it but rather they see no way to reverse these practices or exercise their rights. and then last week something occurred at our school that warranted a rapid response and action. an 8th grade learner was raped by two 9th grade boys--in a classroom during the evening study hours. it was that moment when a sense of urgency struck in. girls need to be empowered, need to understand their inherent rights and how to exercise them. but equally important is the role of boys in female empowerment. girls cannot be empowered in a society filled with boys who fail to recognize womens rights and their inherent equality in society. thus natalia (who admirably pushes the limits on gender roles and defies stereotypes) and I worked together to establish a boys and girls gender equality program: GLOW--guys and girls leading our world. and heres our vision: provide a comfortable environment and forum to discuss issuers relating to gender, health, and self esteem; to examine stereotypes and challenge societal views of how each sex "should" act, and allow a forum for boys and girls to interact and understand the realities of gender.  our aim: overcome gender injustice and build individual and group capacity and empower our future leaders. 

[imagine transition]

so let me tell you a quick love story. its about kovu and kiara. [if you've seen lion king 2 and you realize that this story is unoriginal you are welcome to skip ahead!] in romeo and juliet-esque fashion, the two lion cubs managed to fall in love despite being offsprings of rival clans (were talking about scar and samba after all) so….if you're not aware, sydney and i got PUPPIES! they're brother and sister and we (obviously) named them kovu and kiara, so perhaps love is not in their cards (but whats a little incest once in awhile?) i was visiting sydney at her site, right outside of rundu, and her brother, kankala, (yeah he kinda likes me more, sorry syd) just handed me a puppy--no questions asked. and now my puppy is not just mine but my whole family's. but lets talk about our time in rundu. so whenever syd and i need a cab to her village from town, its always a struggle. like for instance, one night it was particularly late and we were a bit lost and needed to get back home but cab drivers often refuse to go to the villages.  thats why we told him that she is pregnant and were naming the child after him, if he takes us…so obviously he complied. and somehow everytime i return to my village from rundu, i always gets texts and phone calls from random peeps like these: "mr francolino..how are you…i want you to be my band's manager, are you interested??" or "mr francolino i am selling diamonds on the black market..would you like to assist?" 

so heres the deal: my homestead period has expired [i suppose now i can tell you that this past months a few people were struck by lightening THROUGH their huts but i didn't want to say before so i didn't have to scare anyone!] and thus i will be moving permanently to the school living in a teachers house (electricity and running water…whatttt now???) with another teacher (TBD) its obviously sad to leave my family but i will surely be over all of the time, having dinners and of course movie nights.  i have my own hut and last night i told mashika that he should move into it because its so large compared to the others. then he replied "no matthew that hut is always going to be yours" and i just smiled and, perhaps in the spirit of thanksgiving, i am thankful for a family in namibia making me feel like im part of it. 

so as i write this, im in the staffroom with the other teachers who are marking final exams (i just finished marking mine!) the learners are set to leave school and go home for the holidays until the new school year starts in january. so i suppose i ought to say goodbye to the learners but before i do, i just wanted to inform you that group 34 pcvs are REUNITING FOR THE MONTH!!!! were headed to reconnect (peace corps workshop) in windhoek and then vacay in swakopmund (land of branjelina) and christmas in luderitz…so yeah we'll be on the chilling on the coast and going sand boarding. and tomorrow im hosting a christmas dinner and polyanna (a bit of cross cultural exchange to promote teacher unity!) filled with music and competitions, of course! 

in the spirit of thanksgiving ill end this post like this: i am forever thankful for my amazing friends and family (in namibia and in the states) who i love sooo much! but mostly i am thankful that the NBA will be returning albeit a bit late. 

"i just wanna live my life!"

alright so before i begin trying to articulate the inarticulatable (hows that for an english teacher making up a word!) i must first just tell you that i literally walked in my hut door covered in little black hairs. yeah, i know that may sound sketch but heres the sich: i told my little brother that i would shave his head for him at school (because i was doing the same for myself, of course) and then soon after (i suppose i should have predicted this) a flock of learners headed over and lined up, waiting for me to shave their heads. since our school is a hostel school, half of all of the learners live on the school premises and all learners are required to keep their heads shaved (even girls) and thats where i came in. secondary project? barber! well, in the spirit of sustainability, i decided to hand over the reigns (ie, hair clippers) to one of the learners so that i could "supervise" and by that i mean hang out with one of my fellow teachers--and someone who just might be the female Namibian version of ME!

so despite the hairs and dirt and whatever else encapsulates my bod right now, i decided that its about time i posted an update! so we officially completed our pre-service training 2 weeks ago--and how eventful it was. we truly formed a family in okahandja--with fellow pcvs and namibians. thats why moving to site was nothing but bitter sweet. this is kinda for my fellow pcvs but heres a glimpse into our lives as trainees: chris and i ate chicken on the sidewalk, vegas and i got giddy, we danced at gios as grandmas shouted "all the way from america," held committee meetings at none other than club o, syd and i emceed the family appreciation day,  bagshotted each other…a lot, had dance parties with 10 year old neighbors to britney, facilitated romance (more than once), swam at the lodge, played buffalo, top 3 bottom 3, chanted swear us in, indulged in jam jars…and oh i could continue but instead…

so fast forward and here i am, in my village of about 5000 people. the token american. the lone white--pretty much ever. describing my life in ndiyona and the whole community is just not possible--a blog would not do this village justice [here is my plug to encourage you to visit, so that way you wont have to rely on a few words to understand my new home!] but aside from that i suppose ill give it a try! my village is purely fascinating.  its on the verge of becoming a town (and yes, that requires official government classification and development) so its quite evident that the development is welcomed by some but leaving others unsettled. so now its time to tell you about my favorite thing: village dichotomy. its evident everywhere everyday. and im slowly losing site of how fascinating these things are, but i suppose thats what integration is all about. well lets talk about my host mother for a bit: she speaks barely any english and we live in a homestead without electricity.  each day i see her walking towards the river carrying an empty bucket that she'll soon fill to bring home for her daily bath.  ok now its time for the village dichotomy: while she's walking down the dirt road in search of water, she's updating her FACEBOOK status on her phone (obviously). and as we walk around the village which is drizzled with mud hats covered in thatched roves, those same thacthed roof sometimes have a satellite dish attached to it (cmon even peeps here watch roseanne) so the struggle between modernity and development with traditions and conservatism is certainly alive.  

its like any society: where there are people trying to maintain traditions struggling with progressives who hope to implement change to improve their lives. but here its different: ndiyona literally means "waiting for tomorrow" and while the translation doesn't originate from the ideals of development, the translation is relevant and often referenced.  many adults in our village lack an effective education for 2 reasons--the education system under the apartheid regime purposely kept the standards for blacks low and if a final tenth grade exam isn't passed (even now) that learner is no longer able to continue with their schooling.  so while many adults lack the education credentials, they often talk to me about its value and significance--something they understand more that anyone. and they have so much hope for their children but are cautious at the same time.   one of the biggest challenges that children face is complacency.  the older generations before them have always been told that they are inferior and thus eventually their ambitions dissolved. and parents tell me that their children sometimes lack effort and enthusiasm because that intangible trait of craving education is sometimes lost when their parents grew up in a society where they were "inferior" despite their greatest efforts. and thus enhancing ambitions and cramping complacency is something that together we will need to overcome.  although one problem exists: there are those parents who reveal to me that they fear that if their child is too successful he or she will leave the village and escape to the large towns which is where opportunity breeds. but in a namibian family, who will be there to take care of the elders? and thats why no matter what i do for the next 2 years here, i want to involve the community-at-large and do so in an inclusive and sustainable fashion.

well one thing i do know ill be doing is teaching, of course.  and while i don't start officially start teaching until january (the start of the new school year)  i have been co-teaching math classes at the junior secondary level. so in the next few weeks, im trying to adapt to the school environment and procedures here so that i can get rid of those kinks before i have a class of my own. like this for example: each class begins like this: 

--good morning class, how are you?

--[children stand]we are fine sir and how are you?

--i am fine, you may have a seat

--[children are seated and class begins]

ok so when i taught my first class i got the first part down, but unfortunately not the last. so as i taught the first 5 minutes i realized that the learners were all still standing and failed to even mention a word about it.  oops. ok so as i was writing this i thought id let you know that one of the teachers at school literally just walked in the staff room and picked up my laptop and told me that i "must" get him one [uhhh no!].  those kinds of things are said all the time. so i make fun of namibians and always do it back to them…like for example i told my friend i like his watch and that he "must give it to me" its kind of my favorite thing to joke about….although when namibians do it, well, they're not joking. and speaking of the teachers at my school, well i went with a few to rundu last week (the large town about an hour away from our village) we got a ride with some man coming from caprivi on his way to the north and so as we got in we realized that there were already about 12 kids in the back, but we made room of course, i mean were going to the big town of course.

so i obviously wanted to tell you all about my weekend in rundu because i got to meet up with my pcv friends, but my first few hours were just so namibian that i must focus on that. so when i arrived in rundu, i grabbed some food with one of my friends from my village and then we parted ways cause i was supposed to meet up with my friend sydney right outside rundu. well i never got there, and thats pretty typical of namibia. so as i explored the town a bit before getting into a cab i was walking down the street when a man shouted my name of his car.  then my phone vibrated and it was a teacher (the same man from a  second ago in case that wasn't clear) from my school--he told me to walk down the street and that i "must" meet him. so i walked down that same street and chatted with him for a bit and clearly expressed that i had plans and had to go. as he acknowledged my plans he summoned me into his car and i was gracious because i wouldn't have to get a cab to my friends place. but wait this is namibia! so as we drove it became a bit more obvious that we would taking a detour. we ended up at  a car repair shop (?) [also each question mark represents every moment that i was super confused but merely chuckled to myself…ok i loled] where we switched cars and i was driving with this random man from caprivi (?)  before i could even ask any questions. then we ended up at someones house (?), then a gas station, and then a college (?). there lacked an explanation for any of this (but hey, free tour right?) thats one thing you truly have to appreciate about namibia--people here are not stuck on time or agendas (and while that may get frustrating in the professional setting) its such a change of pace to JUST BE and not constantly be thinking. "americans think too much" i was told--and perhaps they're right, perhaps we could learn from just living and experiencing. so anyway, i did finally get in that cab and well even the cab took me on a little tour of his own--we picked up his wife and 3 kids at the grocery store (?) and minutes later he pulled over to buy some mattresses on the street (?). whats funny about all of this is that its not funny to anyone but people who aren't namibian.  like why are their 4 screaming kids and a bunch of mattresses in my cab!! but thats what you're for!

oh and once i was finally able to meet up with my friends in rundu--we had such an amazing weekend. we ate REAL pizza at the lodge along the river facing angola, went out dancing to some trippy namib techno, [almost] had a movie night, danced with 40 year old brits, reunited with my suga mama (finally), made some namib friends (sorry my lady pcv friends, i also offered some of you to them…but we'll get to that later), late night wimpies. but id go into detail on our weekend but i think i could sum it up like this--ruigo, sydney and i were walking back to the lodge to meet some friends but then we passed a shebeen blasting "i just wanna live my life" out the doors--so what else could we do then literally sprint inside and get our dance on. also did i mention it was 2pm in the afternoon? so ruigo merely watched with a bit of confusion as syd and i got our dance on inside as namibians literally crowded around us--so curious and so amused. they clapped and shouted [in local language of course] "oh man these americans our dancing to OUR tracks!" and thats when one man walked up to syd and handed her 10 namibian dollars. yeah we were that good. ok, i suppose i cant take credit for the profit.

so let me give you a glimpse of what its like to live at my homestead: well there are several families living on the homestead all somehow related to the chief (were not always sure how, but who's checking?) and each family lives within its own thatched in area to create the facade of privacy.  facade you ask? well, even i have my own thatched in property but its purely for show.  the lack of personal space must be repeated because its so apparent. but somehow its refreshing. tonight we had a family game of frisbee--well it was actually just supposed to me and my little bros playing and slowly it seemed as if the entire village got word that a frisbee had entered the premises and soon after people poured onto our homestead until we played some made up version of frisbee. so it was going well--ya know, typical frisbee--but this is where the difference between playing frisbee in namibia and the states becomes evident. so typically, in the states a game could be interrupted because, lets say, dinner is ready. well, this is what happened tonight: my brother got a text that there was a newly born calf in the woods behind our homestead. [and just to give you an understanding of the importance of cattle ill say this--people come to the chief almost daily to document the births and deaths of cattle because it all must be recorded] so without much hesitation or questions asked, the frisbee stood idle on the sand and about 10 of us headed to the woods in search of this lost calf. well, there it stood and we literally had to chase it out of the woods and towards a tree near our house and we tied it up with a rope. clearly the chief has dibs on the baby cows. 

ok so living at such a large homestead invites sometimes uninvited guests and by guests i mean permanent residents. well, take the bushman for instance. i might live in a rural village in the kavango but even our villagers have their stereotypes of the people who live deep inside the "bush." well, that leads me to the fact that a "bushman" showed up one day recently and has been here ever since. and as peculiar that might be, just remember that theres also a random white man living here! anyway, the bushman (he's introduced himself as something different each time so ill call him this until further notice) is obsessed with hanging out with me. but he doesn't speak english at all. so heres what were doing: im giving him english lessons in exchange for rumanyo lessons. and he always tells me that never did he ever [fingers up, lets play never have i ever] dream that he'd be friends with an american. and that smoothly segues to how my brother always mentions that he never thought that the day would come that he'd share a bowl of food with an american--yes, and then he proceeded to film me eating with him with his cell phone. but a little documentation never hurt anyone!

so each day after school, my brother and i take bike rides around the village together. biking on dirt roads (covered in sand) is so much harder than he makes it look but im getting used to it. and so we ride by the school, the church (which i now attend mass because its such a reputation booster in a devout catholic community!), and the shop on our way to the kavango river. a 15 minute bike ride typically takes upwards of 2 hours though. and thats ok. i wouldn't be doing my community justice if i didn't mention the significance of greetings. so as were riding bike, we repeatedly get off and greet the elders and shake hands with kids, and hug friends. but regardless the greeting is always the same:

--metaha

--metaha none

--nawa

--ii

--ee

--vavo

--ii

--nawa

--nawa

and i wrote it all out just so you could envision me shouting this as im panting while riding my bike over piles of sand.  and when i greet them in rumanyo, which of course i do, its met with a sense of confusion (huh isn't this guy white?), curiosity (if he greets then he must speak fluently) but mostly appreciation. and thats the most important thing. i constantly appreciate that my community has so graciously welcomed me as one of their own and are so eager to learn from me and i am from them.  actually that last point shouldn't be lost in the sentences covering this screen. my community (except for the boy who still wont get within 5 feet of me bevause he thinks i just might bite him) has reached out and taken me in as one of their own.

i hope that you're all well despite kim kardashian's impending divorce. missing you all

peace