New Pages

Water's receding, school grinds on. Nothing interesting to blog about, but I've added two new pages LIBRARY and CAMP GLOW for your reading pleasure.

And, of course, a new post wouldn't be complete without a picture of my favourite little Namibian making a sandcastle.

Justy's Cupcake

In addition to a Playskool kitchen and Barbie dolls, an Easy Bake Oven is one of the classic toys for little girls. Despite often making cookies with my mom, I still looked forward to using my Easy Bake Oven because I felt like I was baking on my own. It is, I believe, that sense of independence and personal accomplishment that that makes an Easy Bake Oven so special to a little girl.

Even today, the “Easy Bake Oven Theory” still applies. After a tiring day at school, the simple act of making the family’s oshithima all by myself, from start to finish – no easy task when neither the flour is measured nor the boiling timed – brightens my day and sends me to bed physically tired but mentally satisfied. Despite the tortures of inhaling smoke for an hour while my eyes burn and my nose runs, the sense of accomplishment that I get from contributing to the family’s chores makes it more than worthwhile.

But learning new things should always be a two-way street, so I’ve started teaching the girls on my homestead how to bake. After the last lesson, with the desire for independent oshithima-making on my mind, I suggested that Justina try making a chocolate cake by herself sometime. She eagerly agreed, and a few days later I set her free in my kitchen while I took over the oshithima.

I must admit, I was nervous; a year ago, she’d never even read a recipe, not to mention used measuring cups involving fractions, the boogey-monster of the math world. In the end, I had no reason to worry. On her first solo baking attempt, she passed with flying colours. The texture and consistency were correct, all the ingredients included and the batter well mixed. The only hangup was the cocoa powder – 3 t instead of 3 T, but this is a mistake many American adults, would make, not to mention a novice, ESL baker! And the cupcakes still tasted great, which is really what counts in the end.

As she was taking them out of the pan, I realized that I needed to capture this momentous occasion, so I tucked one cupcake into the fridge. The next day, armed with my camera, I asked Justy if she wanted a picture. Again, she eagerly agreed – but first needed to bathe and change clothes.

So now it is preserved forever: Justy’s first cupcake – the first of many baking accomplishments.

[Afterword: Last night Justy asked me if she could make cupcakes again. There was still some sour milk stinking up my fridge so I consented and she got to work while I stirred the oshithima. After the porridge was finished and I was thoroughly smoky and sweaty, I went into the kitchen to check on her cupcakes. It was a sad but familiar sight: flat, greasy-looking cupcakes. I summoned her in and we discussed what might’ve gone wrong. Just as I suspected - not enough flour. After this, I quoted an important English phrase and life lesson: Live and learn. Next time, I said, she’d get it right.]

It's fine...in moderation

We’re asked to do, use or consume in moderation all the time – sugars, oils and fats; alcohol; watching TV and playing computer games. So if humans have to keep urges in check, isn’t it fair that Mother Nature should also practice moderation?

Photo: Just leaving the homestead can be challenging!

The moderation I’m looking for is in the rains – we’d like the thirst-quenching, life-giving amount, please; not the crop-drowning, knee-deep type. After the skies opened up and rain fell for several days straight the oshanas filled up with cool, crisp rainwater. Too bad north-central Namibia is just a long series of oshanas strung together, all ultimately heading south to the Etosha Pan.

Photo: Aipinge plays in a puddle on the homestead

The rain has its perks – cool weather for bearable days and sleep-able nights, free water for drinking, cooking, bathing and washing, great puddles for children to splash in, and abundant fish and frogs. But too much rain causes a flood, which is exactly what we have on our hands right now. And crossing long stretches of deep water can be time consuming and dangerous – most people don’t know how to swim, and even for those that do, the bottom is often obscured by the murky water making every step a guessing game (how deep? a plant? a fish? a stick? a rock? a slimy creature?)

Photo: Even the goats are refugees!

For the safety of the learners, classes were suspended last week, and the school will remain closed for the remainder of this week. It was rather anticlimactic – having two days of school and then shutting down. But hope is on the horizon: it hasn’t rained in 6 days and the water has been steadily, but slowly, flowing downstream.

Photo: Free water! A precious gift in a country as dry as Namibia

If you’re getting a feeling a déjà vu, you’re absolutely correct. This same thing happened last year – only in April, and school was closed for an entire month. The fact that it’s only January is slightly worrying; there’s still a long rainy season ahead and potential floodwaters from Angola on the horizon. But, for now, we’ll march forward optimistically – and hope that Mother Nature can keep it in moderation.

Glorious rain!

Collecting rainwater from a refreshing evening shower.

Thanksgiving

Although overnight temperatures in the upper 80s usually don’t signify Thanksgiving, the holiday hasn’t passed by unnoticed. School-wise, we’re in the home stretch – only 2.5 weeks until the year is over. Due to this, and the fact that I’m belatedly attempting to save for vacation, I decided to stay put this Thanksgiving weekend. But, perhaps, being stationery is most appropriate because, by staying in the village, I’m surrounded by the people and things I’m most thankful for. Here’s my top 5:

My Namibian family – There’s nothing like a family to make you feel at home in a foreign land. With this said, I’m extremely thankful for my Namibian host family, the Pendukenis, and especially Meekulu. I’ve learned so much about Owambo culture from them that I wouldn’t have learned if I’d ended up in a city or at the teachers’ housing. Plus, they put up with my crazy American-ness, like forgetting to shut the doors during snake season (oops!) and locking myself in my room with a book after a frustrating day at school. Yesterday I was feeling especially festive so I decided to bake a pumpkin pie for them so that they could learn about and taste a bit of American culture. I could only find butternut squash (but it turned out to be a great substitute for pumpkin – you should try it!), and I think my attempted expression of gratitude got a bit lost in translation, but I tried nonetheless.

My colleagues – They make me laugh every day. In addition to the laughter and good food that we share, they’re always there to answer my questions and listen to my frustrations. To an American, the Namibian school system can sometimes be incomprehensible. Thanks to my colleagues, however, I’ve been able to navigate it somewhat successfully (I made it through the first year, didn’t I?).

The rain – In Namibia we discuss the weather, especially the rain, not as small talk, but as a serious point of conversation – and rightly so: after nearly 6 months without a drop of rain, grey skies and a shower can seem like a miracle. My fixation with the rain may border on obsessive; I watch the skies like a hawk, pray for rain at the first sight of a thundercloud and text other volunteers to get a heads up on the coming weather. I even have my own humidity indicator – my bedroom door, which latches when it’s humid but refuses to catch when it’s dry. Unlike me, these goats try to avoid the rain!

My quiet place – I don’t get to escape to my quiet place nearly enough, but I’m thankful to have it regardless. On the occasional weekend where there isn’t a soccer game at school or grade 10 camping, I’m able to put up my hammock chair and spend blissful hours reading in the shade. Books have an unrivaled power to immerse the reader in a different world, and in this past year I’ve gained an even deeper appreciation for the power of literature.

Cadbury bars – That’s right, I’m thankful for chocolate. Specifically the Cadbury Delectable Trio – a milk chocolate bar with toffee pieces, almonds and mini chocolate cookies buried within. I’m so thankful for this delicious chocolate bar that I usually can’t restrain myself and end up eating the entire thing on the day I buy it. Cadbury really needs to expand its American distribution beyond their Easter cream eggs!

Waving the White Flag

School holidays in Namibia mean only one thing…weddings. This August, I saw signs of weddings everywhere – parades of cars, couples’ names taped over license plates and white flags in trees (note to all cynics: this is not a sign of surrender but a sign of celebration). And, fortunately, I had the opportunity to experience a few weddings myself!

In America, weddings are often referred to as “the big day.” In Namibia, they’d be more appropriately called “the big week.”

The process begins when the future spouse becomes “known” to the family. I’m not sure what this all entails, because I wasn’t actually there, but the gist is that you don’t meet your future in-laws until you’re engaged (about 6 months before the wedding). Then, the wedding plans begin.

“Wedding week” begins on Sunday when the couple is announced in church. Again, I can’t be sure what is said (it was all in Oshiwambo), but all of the couples stand up in front of the church. Once church is over, the fun begins. At this point, each couple is followed out of church, surrounded by their posse. This posse consists most of celebrating women, but men are not excluded. The group proceeds toward their vehicle, but moves rather slowly because there is singing and dancing around the couple, as well as congratulations, whistling, harmonica playing, cow tail waving and ululating. For those of you not up-to-date on your Nam-lingo, the term ululating means making a wavering, high-pitched sound. It kind of reminds of a stereotyped Indian war cry. In addition to all of this auditory stimulation, there are the bright pink traditional dresses and beads to see.

From there, preparations begin in earnest. When you’re hosting hundreds of people without a wedding planner or catering company, there’s a lot to be done. Since weddings are held on the homestead, a tent (or two) is rented and erected outside the fence. Food must be cooked for all of the guests, so these means hours and hours of peeling potatoes, grating beets, boiling rice and butchering chickens, goats and cows. Plus, all of the logistical problems that you’d never consider in America, like bringing in huge blocks of ice to cool the drinks (no fridge), finding a generator so there can be lights after dark (no electricity) and hauling in water for cooking, cleaning and drinking (no running water).

When the big day arrives, it begins at a familiar place: church. A religious ceremony is held, and includes many of the familiar aspects – vows, rings and a bridal party. After church, photos are taken (the lodges in town are very popular locations) and then the celebration moves to the bride’s homestead. The main features of the homestead celebration are the gift-giving, the toast and the meal.

During the gift-giving ceremony, the bride and groom sit at a table outside and all the women line up. Most of the women balance their gift (a basket) on their head, but a few also give wrapped presents. The singing, harmonica playing and dancing continues as the move through the queue to present their gift to the couple. Next, the couple moves into the tent for the toast. Following a few words, the champagne is popped and shared with everyone in the room. Finally, it’s time to eat – the buffet servers are opened, the big basins are unwrapped and people dig in. As my Namibian BFF Henni likes to say, the food is destroyed.

After day one of the wedding celebration, the hoopla begins all over again the next day at the groom’s house!

Hello Lincoln School

I just wanted to say hi to my World Wise Schools class at Lincoln Elementary! This is some of the 7th graders at my school. We hope you have a great school year.