PICTURES!

Inside of the Grade 8 classroom














My homestead (from a distance)















The Grade 9 and Grade 10 classrooms














Inside the principal's office (which is really the principal's office/library/media center/food storage area). There are 6 computers that don't work (to the right) and the white bags are maize meal supplied by the government so that they students can eat after school (a great program!)














The school's library


















The office/storage closet that I share with 2 other teachers (yes, my desk is the one with nothing on it!)














Inside the Grade 6 classroom (yes, that is a goat that wandered inside the room)














The bush - this is what I see every day on my walk to and from school (and, I guess any time I want to go anywhere because this is the road that leads from the paved road deeper into the bush where the village is). You'll notice that it is quite green right now, which is something that has changed in the month that I've been here. It has only rained once but somehow things are getting greener!














A soccer goal (and you can see my homestead waaay in the background if you look hard)














A termite mound...and many goats














The Grade 7 classroom

"I'm paining..."

This one will be quick because I only have two things to say. First, I’m sorry for not getting these posts up in a timely manner. The network (translation: cell phone signal) is terrible here so I can’t even load my blog page at school. And (probably from a combination of the heat and the [internal] stress of living in another completely new environment) I’ve been really tired lately, meaning that I crash at about 9 PM and wake up for school at about 6:30. My motivation (and desire for that matter) to get up at 1 AM and stay up for a few hours during internet happy hour to wait ages for pages that may or may not load, is very minimal.














On the homestead at dusk with some of my (many) siblings: Tresia, Atu, Moses, Margarita, Sophia and (being held) Cassia.

Second, I got my first blisters from pounding mahangu. Before I started pounding, one of the girls relayed to me the message from my meme that I shouldn’t pound because I might hurt myself. We all had a good laugh at this one. What was I going to do? Drop the pounding stick on my foot? Ironically, this warning turned out to be quite prophetic. In a matter of 15 minutes I acquired 6 blisters, two of which opened up and are still stinging 12 hours later. I could have avoided getting so many blisters if I’d stopped after the first one appeared, but, in my stubbornness, I wanted to see the mahangu through to its flour-form finish. It’s quite amusing to show these blisters to my Namibian colleagues because they all squawk and tsk and shake their heads (quite literally, even the men). It was definitely worth it, though...and my hands will be much tougher for next time!

About Namibian Schools

I had a request (though my response is long overdue...sorry!) to talk a little bit about the schools in Namibia. Now, some of this might be a repeat from earlier, but please bear with me... And one more disclaimer, this is just based on my experience in the past 10 weeks. I’ve only seen a few different schools in a few different towns so I can’t speak for all of Namibia.

First, the school year. The school year begins in January and is split up into trimesters. Next school year, for example, the first term will begin January 13 and end April 21, the second will be May 16 through August 25 and the final term will begin September 5 and end on December 9. (For those you planning on visiting, COUGH CMEJLA NOEL ANITA COUGH, please take note). If a child is 6 years old by January 1, he/she can begin grade 1. For most purposes, the grades are split into four different levels: lower primary (grades 1-4), upper primary (grades 5-7), junior secondary (grades 8-10) and senior secondary (grades 11-12).

The language of instruction in the lower primary phase varies from region to region within the country, depending on what that region’s mothertongue is. For example, in Okahandja, where I stayed for the first two months, the children were taught in Afrikaans because it was an urban environment with a mix of different home languages. The language makeup where I am now is much more homogeneous, however, so Oshindonga (a dialect of Oshiwambo) is taught in primary school. Once students enter the upper primary grades, the mode of instruction changes to English. This means that although students still take a class in their mothertongue (similar to how English is taught in American schools all the way from kindergarten to high school), the rest of their subjects (math, science, life skills, phy ed, etc) are taught in English. As you can imagine, it is quite a change to switch from being taught (and tested) almost exclusively in Oshindonga one year to almost exclusively in English the next.

Okay, next topic: the daily school schedule. I’ll give you my school’s schedule, but I should also let you know that from what I’ve seen, my school is an exception to the general rule. Most schools start around 7 AM, with a staff meet that begins anywhere from 6:40 to 6:50. My school, on the other hand, doesn’t have a staff meeting in the morning and classes begin at 8 AM. If there is morning assembly (which there occasionally is on Mondays and Fridays although I haven’t yet figured out the method behind the madness as to when exactly an assembly is required and when it isn’t), it begins around 7:45 (though the bell for the assembly begins ringing a good 15 minutes before it actually begins, which is another story in itself...). Basically, morning assembly means that the kids line up by grade in the school yard, sing the national anthem and the school anthem, listen to a scripture reading, a prayer and any announcements the principal or other teachers might have. Once the assembly is done, the students are dismissed to first period, which is probably already “technically” in progress. Okay, so now back to the original topic: the schedule. Classes begin at 8 AM and are 40 minutes long. There are four periods before the tea break, which begins at 10:40 and ends at 11:10, and four periods after the break. This means that classes end at 1:50. From 1:50 to 2:30 (approximately, again, I’m a bit unsure on the actual times) there is another break and then afternoon study begins and continues until 4 PM when the school day is officially over.

Alright, now that the technical stuff is out of the way, the more practical items. Time, as you know, is much more flexible in Nam than it is in the US. For example, although tea break ends at 11:10, kids (and teachers) generally don’t start going back into their classrooms until 11:20, 11:30, maybe 11:40, depending on the day.

Ah, yes, another very important thing to understand...upper primary/junior secondary students are often (meaning, on average, once a day) left unattended here. In the US, leaving your class (even to go to the bathroom) is basically a capital offense. Not so much in Nam. If a teacher is sick, talking to the principal or a parent, marking (translation: grading) papers, planning lessons, invigilating (translation: proctoring) a nation-wide standardized exam or (yes, it has happened) in town at the bank because it’s pay day, the students are left to fend for themselves. Yes, I must admit, as an American-trained teacher (and student) I was very shocked by this at first. But, before you go and start passing judgment, let me tell you some of the amazing things that I’ve observed about these unattended classes: the students stick around and (generally) they manage to make it through the period without injuring each other or breaking school property. Imagine if a group of American 9^th graders were left alone...after about 20 minutes, something would be vandalized and after about 30 minutes, half class would be walking around town, maybe headed to the nearest gas station to buy snacks. Am I completely off here?

This is getting quite long so I’ll cap this off with the system of promotion. Although I believe changes may be in the works (or things might have already been changed but have not yet filtered down?), students are only “allowed” to fail once per section. So, for example, Susie Student enters school and fails first grade. Susie then repeats grade one the next year but fails again. Since, however, a student can only fail once in grades 1-4, Susie is pushed on to grade 2 and then on to grade 3 (even if she fails grade 2). This same thing happens in the next section (grades 5-8). Once a student is in grade 10, this is where things really begin to count. In grade 10, if Susie gets enough “points” (based on grades in certain classes), she earns her Junior Secondary Certificate. After passing grade 10, Susie can apply begin grades 11-12 and, if her grades are good enough, she will be accepted. From grade 12 (after completion of the Senior Secondary Certificate), Susie can apply to attend a University. If Susie fails, she cannot retake grade 10 and does not earn her certificate. Her only choices, then, are to being working (usually on the family’s farm) or enroll in NamColl to begin work on what is basically a Nam equivalent of a GED.

One last thing before I sign off (I swear, this really is the last one), this system of passing/failing and other factors also leads to students of a wide range of ages being in the same grade. In grade 7, for example, the students might range in age from 12 to 19. Seriously! This also was quite a shock for me, coming from a school environment where student ages were very homogeneous.

Happy Halloween!

Some of my host siblings: Margarita, Atu, Cassia and Sophia (with a basket of [pounded] mahangu on her head - and some on her hands, too!)

I’m dedicating this blog post to my Namibian colleagues…cuz they are AWESOME! After talking with other volunteers and stopping to reflect on the situation, I realized that I have amazing colleagues. I am so lucky to be where I am. I look forward to going to school each day and my weeks seem to fly by. My colleagues have been so helpful – letting me sit in on their classes; answering my questions about the school, about the Namibian education system and about the Namibian culture in general; introducing me to people in the community and other volunteers; showing me around town; helping me find hikes (rides) back home; introducing me to Namibian food (Oshiwambo chicken most recently); and coaxing me out my sometimes-reserved American shell.

With my brother Frans (and I'm wearing a shitenge btw)

And now, just a few comments on the weather. Lordy, it is hot! Although I must say, I think I’m adjusting. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will sweat every day (and not from exercising, either). I have a near-constant glow from the heat radiating off my face, and I have more freckles than I ever knew I had! Oh, and I have a farmer’s tan. Yikes, time to break out the sun screen!

My Meme [pron: may-may] Rosa (and she's also the village headwoman!)

My most interesting Namibian experience recently…a parents’ meeting. The meeting was scheduled for 2:00 on a Thursday afternoon but it didn’t actually begin until 3:15 (a perfect example of the flexibility I like to call “Namtime”). The meeting venue: underneath the shade of a big tree just outside the school fence, on chairs borrowed from the grade 1 classroom. Total parent attendance: 22. Quick quiz, how many students are at the school? That’s right: 350. Now, Namibian families are much bigger than American families so let’s say that the average household size is 5 school-aged kids. That would mean that there are (at a minimum) 70 households that send kids to school. Some quick math shows us that only 31% of the households sent a representative to the meeting. I think this may be indicative of the parental involvement in education in Namibia generally. Many colleagues have told me that getting parents involved is one of the biggest challenges they face. And to make things worse, several factors compound the problem of parental involvement in rural areas. First, Namibia is no exception to the worldwide trend: educated people tend to move to the cities, therefore those who are left in the villages are those that may not be able to help their children with schoolwork even if they wanted to. Secondly, because of the strong tradition of extended families and also because of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, many children from rural areas are raised by grandparents who may not understand the value of education. So, in company with teachers worldwide, in urban and rural settings, I face the age old problem of trying to get people (both old and young) to understand the value of education. Wish me luck. . .

And talk about dedication, I’m at school on a SUNDAY. That’s right, a Sunday. I have several very selfish reasons for being here, however, so don’t go thinking I’m an overachiever. Foremost, I needed to charge my cell phone. I’m also enjoying some well-earned all-American solitude. It’s quite nice to have a little TRUE alone time sitting in the “office” (a storage closet lined with shelves and three teachers’ tables) and listening to music and, if I get motivated, working on a year plan for grade 6 English. I have a key for my “office” but not for the school fence, so I simply hiked up my shitenge (a beautifully patterned 2m piece of cloth that I use as a wrap skirt) and hopped the fence. Don’t worry, I’m not completely alone…there are half a dozen goats grazing in the school yard!

And before I forget…Happy Halloween! BOO! (Send me pics of all your sweet costumes, please!)

You've been in Nam too long when...

Well, this concludes week two at site. At first the time went by rather slowly (and sometimes painfully) but lately, things have been flying. I think that’s a good sign – time flies when you’re having fun, right?

Although I’ve had to make quite a few adjustments, I feel like things are falling into place quite well. I’ve already had a few moments that made me think Wow, you’ve been in Nam too long! For example, a few days ago I saw a chicken get its head chopped off and I even helped pluck the feathers, all without really batting an eye. I also look forward to eating oshithima (the mahangu-maize meal porridge) each day. And, yesterday, I willingly took seconds of oshikundu (a drink that is made from ferment mahangu and can be a little bitter). Yes, oh yes, I am enjoying it here…

But that doesn’t mean I don’t sometimes have moments of blue. I must admit, I had my first feelings of homesickness. Now, I knew the moment was coming and I’d been preparing, almost waiting for it. I was just kind of hoping that maybe it would never appear, that maybe I’d somehow become immune to homesickness. I mean, I’ve lived away from home for five years now, I’ve studied abroad, lived with host families, traveled a lot and found myself in many strange and unfamiliar situations…and through all that, I can’t remember the last time I was homesick. But the moment did strike, for about two hours in total. Happily, though, I can report that I quickly returned to my regular sunny disposition. But, hey, I made it 65 days in Africa without questioning the sanity of my decision to come….and I think that’s pretty darn good!

So…what’s on the docket for this weekend you ask? Some much needed baking! Last weekend my stove was hooked up to the gas tank and now I have a fully operational stove/oven (at least I think the oven works – I haven’t used it yet). What’s on the menu? First, some homemade tortillas with peanut butter and Nutella melted on top – a Namibian version of Breton crepes. Next, some fat cakes – a Namibian food, similar to fry bread or fritters. Delicious! Then some type of baked goods to celebrate Halloween (and share with my Namibian colleagues & family). My first choice would be pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, but I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to find pumpkin (and for all you spoiled American bakers out there, when I say pumpkin, I mean pumpkin – like the whole fruit that must be cut and cooked and smushed to make what we normally buy in a can). Sometimes finding good apples in Outapi can be challenging so pumpkin might just be wishful thinking. If there’s no pumpkin to be found, then I’d like to make some caramel corn…if I can find popcorn. If no popcorn can be found, then a classic but delicious fall back: oatmeal cookies. After my baking extravaganza is complete, I think I’m going to make some lentil soup. As much as I enjoy apples and peanut butter for lunch, two weeks of the same is getting rather monotonous.

And sorry I haven’t put any pictures up. I have so many great ones that I want to post but my internet connection is so slow they won’t even load. So…you’ll have to wait about a month til I’m in a place with better network (Namlish for signal).

The Real Africa

Well, this concludes my third full day at the homestead. On Saturday, after a long day of travel (10+ hours) I arrived at my permanent site. Since then, I’ve spent the majority of my time either at school or in the outdoor kitchen.

My daily routine goes something like this: Wake up at 6 to wash, dress, eat breakfast, etc. Then at 7, I leave with the children from the homestead to walk to school. It’s about a kilometer to the school, through the bush on a sandy road. At school I observe a few classes, entertain the students by teaching them a game (Heads Up 7up) or song (the Iggle Wiggle) if a teacher doesn’t show up (proctoring exams, at a meeting, marking papers or absent for some other reason). After the tea(less) break I stay in the office (large supply closet with shelves for books and three tables for three teachers) and work on plowing through the mounds of paperwork and other recreational reading that I’ve received in the past 8 weeks from Peace Corps. At some point during this time, one of my colleagues walks in and we have a chat, attempting to pass the time until 4 when afternoon study concludes and we can all go home. At four, I begin the hike back with the kids, feeling like the Pied Piper because I have a crowd of uniformed students trailing behind.















With my host mom, Julianna, at the Swearing In Ceremony in traditional Damara dress.


At home, I relax in my room for a few moments and then move to the sitting room for oshikundu (traditional drink made of fermented mahangu) with the elder girls. Soon after, we eat the afternoon meal, consisting of rice, pasta or oshithima (mahangu-maize meal porridge) flavored by ketchup and the broth left from cooking the meat. Once the meal is done and the dishes are cleaned (no running water so dishes are done in a basin on the floor), the fire is started for the evening meal. The evening meal is nearly always oshithima, sometimes with a piece of beef. By the time the meal actually begins it is past 8 PM and already dark so the table is lit by a small lantern. Once I’m done eating I head straight for bed because, let’s face it, I’m exhausted. After brushing my teeth (taking my nalgene along for rinse water), I read for a bit or write a letter and finally drift off. Thankfully, I’ve now moved into a room with a window so I’m able to keep it open during the night and it gets cool enough so that I can sleep without sweating excessively and tossing around fitfully.














With my principal, Mrs. Ashipala, at Swearing In, this time wearing a traditional Owambo dress (yes, I am aware of my resemblance to Where's Waldo?!)

I can foresee many challenges ahead (which I may delve into during a later post), but right now I’m simply thankful for the big family that I live with. There are always kids running around and they keep me entertained. I’ve learned so much from them already and, simply said, they make me smile! I hope you enjoy the pictures of some of them! Until next time…