Omeya Ombwinayi!!! The Tale of the Bad Water

The time period that Namibians call the ‘rainy season’ is certainly living up to its moniker. Thunder and lightning are almost a daily occurrence and the ensuing rains are completely upsetting the rhythms and balance of life. The nature of the soil here is such that the process of absorbing the copious amounts of rainwater takes an extremely long time. This means that what begin as puddles soon grow into ponds, which then progress to miniature lakes. But it doesn’t stop there… Walking to school on Monday, the water was up to my ankles. That night, the storms returned with a vengeance. From two in the morning, the torrents of rain pelted my tin roof creating a sound akin to radio static blasting at full volume. It continued with no remorse into the morning so that by the time I arrived to school at eight I was completely soaked even though I had been wielding my trusty umbrella. Surprisingly, most of the learners showed up to school despite the weather but inside the classrooms the rain was too loud to even think about teaching. Instead I opened up the ‘library’ and grades 6 through 10 went wild over the picture books and two 50-piece jigsaw puzzles which they solved over and over and over. Around ten, the rest of the teachers showed up, finally arriving from Tsandi after their three hour trek. Even the pickups couldn’t make it from the small town out to the village so they were forced to ‘go by footing’ as we say in Namibia. Later the principal arrived and we had the fateful staff meeting. By that time the rain had lessened but the water was at least knee deep and had surrounded the whole school. That’s knee deep on someone my size, but on some of the smaller learners, it’s about waist high! Unfortunately, it was decided that we must close the school until the water subsides. That means potentially up to a month with no classes, no learning, no teaching, no maths, no soccer, no library, no school…
I’m still a little in shock about the whole thing so my thoughts are still a bit inchoate. It just happened on Tuesday, so plans are still being made for the next few weeks. Some people are saying that this is just the beginning and that we haven’t yet received the flood waters from Angola. If so, and if the rain continues, then school could be closed until March 16th. If not, then we can hopefully only miss a week or two and start again March 2nd or 9th. Perhaps we will make up the missed time during the April-May holiday. I hope we can find another solution because during that break, all of the Peace Corps volunteers have a ‘reconnect’ meeting for a couple weeks so I would not be able to teach. Currently I am staying with another volunteer friend and helping him at his school about 50 km away where there are still rainstorms but a lot less standing water. Peace Corps didn’t want us to be stranded way out in the village so I’m here for the time being. I feel a little out of place though at a new school and with a new family. I was really starting to feel the grooviness of village life and school was getting more and more fluid. Even if school is still closed, I want to go back to my host family soon because I really like chilling in the fields, playing soccer, roping the jump and jumping the rope, learning oshiwambo and trying out new phrases, eating embe berries (possibly a type of plum called the bird plum) straight off the trees, making up words to local popular songs, drawing pictures in the sand, and giving impromptu lessons on all sorts of things: math, the solar system, hopscotch, English, America (what we eat, when we sleep, what language we speak, the global location…), the ocean, and even how to dance the limbo!
There are a lot of things I don’t like about the rain: that we had to close school, that I have to wade in deep water rife with animal dung, that I can’t juggle outside in the mud, that the soccer field is under a foot of water, that my pit latrine fell into a sink hole, that it is difficult to get out of the village and buy peanut butter, that the staff room at school leaks water on the books, that the fences and huts are falling apart, and that old old tatekulu grandpas slip and break their arms. But apart from all those things, there are some things that I really do like about the rain... Thus begins the Tale of the Good Water
For one thing, the rain completely eradicates the intense heat and things are much cooler and less shirt-drenchingly sweaty. Also it reminds me a lot of Seattle and Portland, what with the damp gray drizzly overcast skies and the proliferation of raincoats and umbrellas. Water also provides home to a host of sweet animal species! Yesterday I caught a baby turtle swimming around in the murkiness and he promptly proceeded to try and bite my finger before he realized that his beak (do you call a turtle’s mouth a beak?) was too small and that the ugly pink giant meant no harm. And the frogs are flipping and flopping, to-ing and fro-ing, rejoicing in their amphibious namibious environment. Most people don’t like those warty slimy toad-cousins but I think the process of mutation from tadpole to full-fledged frog is pretty cool. I wish I could grow extra arms… then I could juggle twice as many balls! The puddles also propagate pranking and playing! Everyone seems to know this special puddle-stomping maneuver which creates a neat ‘spalsh-thump-galump’ing sound so of course it is on the list of skills that I want to master. So overall there my feelings are mixed about the weather here but it’s not all bad.
SAT analogy time: Alaska is to snow as Namibia is to….… Mud! With all this rain, I’ve learned a lot of new weather related vocabulary. It seems that, similar to how the native people of Alaska have many different words to describe various types of snow, the Owambo people have several words to describe different types of mud and rain. Here’s what I’ve gathered so far:
Oshitosi – splashy splashy slick sloppy slipperiness
Omuthenu – gooey oozy squoozy woozy mud
Ontopo – gushy squishy wishy-washy mushy mud
Evundia – muddy mud
Okatha – small puddle (usually consists of muddied water)
Omvula – rain in the most general sense (just add ‘unene’ to mean a really big rain)
Oluzigi – an advancing sheet of rain
loka – the verb used when the rain is raining
lokwa – the verb used when you are getting rained on
sheka – the verb used to say the rain has stopped (used infrequently)
Okalunda – umbrella (used frequently)

Apart from those descriptions, I've been learning a lot of other oshiwambo words phrases and grammatical constructions. Every day I write down what I learn along with any funny linguistic mishaps and sentences that make my host family laugh. Because Oshiwambo features so prominently in my daily modes of communication, I’ll give you a sample of some things I know how to say:
Onda lokwa nena molwasho onda dhimbwa okalunda kandje kosikola – I got rained on today because I forgot my umbrella at school
Ihandi pono oshiti shombe – I don’t swallow berry pits
Inandi hala okulya embangumbangu – I don’t want to eat that big beetle
Onda pya kiithima iipyu! – I got burned by the hot oshithima (the porridge that we eat with our hands)
Otandi ka tuka monjodhi nena uusiku – I am going to fly in my dreams tonight
Onda kwata ohimayandondi momeya popepi na Elamba – I caught a turtle in the water near Elamba (the name of our school)
Emanya lya pwa omundilo yongodhi yandje – the battery for my cellphone has no fire (AKA the battery is dead – most often the case because we have no electricity)
Otwa pumbwa okupata osikola molwasho omuna omeya omale - We had to close school because there is deep water

I really love the challenge of learning a new language and all the fun to be had messing with words. One thing about oshiwambo, is that a very high percentage of words (approximately 83.2%) begin with the letter O, so alliterations are absurdly abundant! There is so much more to write but no more time. Time to go watch the beautiful sunset and hope that those wonderful clouds don't signal the approach of more rain. I really appreciate any sort of emails no matter how short or small or trivial. So send 'em my way: pakalewis@gmail.com

Ka laleni po nawa ookuume kandje!
Sleep well my friends!
Ombili, Paka

Here is a picture of the result of the rains. These oshanas fill up with water about upper shin deep that makes the walk to school a wet one or a long circuitous one.

The scraggly one in front of his cement house

Resting under and eating the fruits of the embe berry tree

Interior shot of the homestead structure

The ever growing fields of sorghum and corn set with a backdrop of the approaching rainstorm

The eight year old Egumbo in front of a sleeping hut

Meme Emilia using traditional basket containers called embale baskets

First week teaching

1/24/09
I survived the first week of school! I'm a bit exhausted now and glad it's the weekend. I had no idea that teaching took so much energy! I appreciate my former teachers even more now that I know what it's like to get up in front of a class of expectant students and try to teach multiplication! I am officially a math teacher now in charge of grades seven eight and nine. I also teach life skills (kind of like health but also includes any general life knowledge such as juggling) to eight nine ten and P.E. to grades five six seven. Some days were great and others felt like I was pulling teeth. I'm in the process of marking (grading) the quizzes I have on Friday and I definitely have some work to do... There are a few kids who get it completely and aced the tests but I also have some scores close to zero. Not sure how that gap happened but I'll do my best to close it. The kids are so shy in class though so it's almost impossible to tell when I'm not making sense. They will just say yes when I ask if they understand even if they really don't. But it's only been one week so hopefully they'll start getting more comfortable in class with me.
Aside from school, I am in complete village mode. I wake up with the roosters and/or the heat, have some tea, bucket bathe with shivering water, speak as much oshiwambo as I can, practice slingshot skills with the ten year old egumbo, help plow the fields with donkey power, climb trees like a monkey, play soccer with my three host siblings, eat porridge and meat for every meal, and go to sleep under my mosquito net after a spectacular sunset. The nearest town is a five mile walk and there is one tiny grocery store with peanut butter but it costs price and a half compared to a bigger town. To get back to the village, there are people with pickups who ferry people out to the bush for about eighty cents U.S., which means they try and take as many passengers as possible. This makes for quite a wild ride! Last week there were fourteen people somehow piled into the truck. And the rainy season has started, so the almost daily torrential thunder storms leave the flat plains, called oshanas, filled with standing muddy water. Thus, the proliferation of pickups. Walking to school on Thursday, I had to wade through ankle deep oozy gray water. But my colleague gave me an umbrella so it's all good. I think I may have to cut my hair soon.. One old grandpa thought I was a meme, granted he was a bit far away. My host mom got a good laugh out of that. Actually she laughs all the time about everything which is so great. There are goats bleating, donkeys crying, dogs barking, huge bees buzzing, lizards rustling, hawks soaring, millipedes crawling, chickens scampering, and dragonflies hovering. Along with all this activity, the people are constantly busy: plowing, sowing, hoeing, cooking, pounding flour, and resting when it's too hot to do any work. The fields and crops that surround the homestead are the soul source of food. Of course they could go to town and buy things but their only job is cultivating hence no monetary income, only sustenance. It's pretty amazing seeing how this lifestyle works day after day and to really be living it... Although I do admit I have been secretly eating mass amounts of peanut butter and apples and doing crossword puzzles whenever I feel the need for solitude... All in all life is onawa (good/sweet/swell) here in this small African village. Now back to mathematics and peanut butter... Miss and love you, parker --
Parker Lewis
Email pakalewis@gmail.com

Parker Lewis P.O. Box 344 Uukwaluuthi Tsandi Namibia Africa

New home near Tsandi in North Namibia

First sunset at my permanent home


Chicken to Go!

Some Snapshots!

Gangsters: Timo, me and Shikwambi

Lola the warrior princess.

Noko and Lola

The watermelon bandit strikes again! Notice the drawing on the fridge coproduced by Lola and myself.

Six o'clock In the backyard. Lola, me Oma, Noko, Nashi and Obase

BeforeI set off to another day of training! Me with Noko and Oma

My grade 9 learners at the end of model school, Ndahange, Gino, Elrich (sweet name) and Joseph

Soccering between classes with my Oshindonga teachers, Timo and Victory.

Spiking Incentives

Oshiwambo: Mwa tokelwa po natango! Onda galuka okushanga iitya oyindji nokupopya kombinga omwenyo yandje. Onda nyanyukwa unene!

English: Hello/Good Evening again everyone! I have returned to write many words and talk about my life/heart/soul. I am happy in a big way!

As our two month pack-you-full-of-as-much-stuff-as-possible Peace Corps training comes to a close, I’m feeling pretty prepared for the next major life change. Earlier today, our group of trainees was officially sworn in as Peace Corps volunteers in a big ceremony full of speeches and songs and ambassadors and a finger lunch. NBC (Namibian Broadcasting Company) was there so I’ll have to watch the news tonight and see if they play a clip from my Oshindonga speech. I also was recommended to the local radio station to give a short interview over the phone so now I am a big time celebrity in Namibia.
After countless information sessions on all sorts of topics (PC policies, HIV/AIDS, personal health, transportation, Namibian culture, relationships, project funding, etc. etc.), daily language classes, and a wonderfully beneficial two week practice model school, tomorrow I say goodbye to Okahandja, the training staff and the rest of the group, and move up North to my permanent site. It’s pretty strange, contemplating all the drastic changes that will happen… I’ll go from seeing familiar faces every day to having to meet a whole new group of people (a whole new village!), from living a settled comfortable life with my host family to readjusting to a new host family and a new living arrangement, from the easily accessible grocery stores to the nearest shopping town almost an hour away… and the list goes on… But with that said, I can’t wait!

Language acquisition has been in hyperdrive these last couple weeks. Last Wednesday marked the final day of official language classes. Every day the six people in the oshindonga group have had a two hour language class with Victory. He is a complete omuyolithi (goofball silly goose) and goes on the wildest tangents in class about word etymology, crazy stories of his youth, and basically laughing at us oshilumbus when we mispronounce a new vocab and inadvertently say a ‘bad’ word. A couple weeks ago we had a mid-training language interview evaluation and I nailed it with a rating of intermediate-medium - best in the whole group if I can brag! Their rating scale goes from novice, to intermediate, to advanced, each with a subrating of low, med or high. And this week was our final language interview and I improved enough to merit a rating of intermediate high! So basically I can understand and answer reasonable questions, maintain simple conversations, and be a bit creative when formulating my sentences. No abstract philosophizing yet… I’ve learned a lot practicing with my host family and from asking our various trainers how to use some of the more prickly types of words. I’m excited to move North because the omniprevalence of English in Okahandja will cease and my incentives to learn will spike even sharper since my host meme speaks barely any English.

Model school was the Peace Corps moniker given to the two-week school for the vacationing learners where the volunteers were given invaluable and practical experience with all aspects of the Namibian school system: setting the class schedule, attendance, teaching with limited supplies, and of course the learners. We used the facilities at two of the local schools in Okahandja and recruited learners from town and even as far away as Windhoek. The learners who showed up for model school were there either because they were bored of vacation, their parents didn’t want to deal with them, or, as we would like to believe, that they really wanted to learn and be taught by new, fun, and exciting teachers. I ended up teaching two forty-minute periods of maths a day to both grades 9 and 10 and also helped co-teach a life skills class for grade 6 with another volunteer. The lower grades were pretty packed (about 30 per class) but my two classes each had only about 10 learners. Besides individual math tutoring, and informal juggling lessons, I have never taught in a classroom setting before. Needless to say, it was a bit scary getting up in front of the chalkboard and jumping right into the teaching role. Surprisingly though, I felt pretty good about my first few days. I taught grade 9 about series, sequences, with a dab of exponents. Grade 10 focused on ratios, proportions, and introductory probability.
The hardest part was trying to figure out which topics to teach then and how to structure the lesson plans. I taught just using a chalkboard and chalk and tried out some ideas that we had talked about in training. At the start of each lesson I gave them a fun brain-energizing warmup puzzle (how many triangles in this figure?, what comes next in the pattern here?, what dies when you give it water, but grows when you give it food? etc etc) I also tried to include some games into the lessons to make the subjects less dry and more interactive. One notable game for probability was an adaptation of paper-rock-scissors: Human-Chicken-Spider. Analysis: no pure strategy because the opponent chooses with an equal 1/3 probability. Then I added the Mosquito which changed all the probabilities around: Chicken eats Spider and Mosquito, Mosquito bites Human, Human eats Chicken, Spider scares Human and eats Mosquito. Analysis: Chicken and Spider have the best probability of winning against a random choice by the opponent. I had the class split into two teams and pantomime their choices when it was time for battle. It was pretty fun but after trying out some of these games, I realized that it is going to be pretty hard to think of a game or activity for every single class or else my box of ideas will be depleted too fast.
My learners all came from different schools and were at such different levels that it was difficult to gauge their understanding. And as we came to the end of the two weeks, the classroom management and discipline became more and more of an issue as the kids started pushing the boundaries. I am by no means a hard ass so it was difficult to become the dictator or rules and regulations but it gave me a great idea of what works and what doesn’t. I think that some of the problems stemmed from the nature of the model school: that it was only two weeks long, that the kids were all on vacation, that they knew the teachers were not going to be around all year to implement any serious long-term consequences. The sixth grade was ridiculous. Lots of troublemakers and hooligans. Sometimes they were pretty fun though and hopefully I motivated them when I told them that all the math was ‘up here’ as I pointed to my head, and then proceeded to wow them with my rapid-fire answers to a string of multiplication questions thrown at me by my colleague. We concluded with a small exam which gave us some good practice marking and also how to set up tests, and then each learner was given a nice certificate. Namibians sure do like their certificates!

Towards the end of model school, I learned that some of my ninth graders play soccer and after school one day I went with them to the dirt/rock/glass shards/brush field where they practice. The location where we are staying apparently has a few teams that practice regularly and I got to go through a couple days of real training with a team called the Battle Boys. Serendipitously, there was a tournament going on that weekend, and the coach/captain asked me to play with the team so I got to wear a uniform, get my picture taken with the team, and play almost a full 90 minute game in the small local stadium! The deadly heat coupled with a steely opposition made it a difficult game and even though we lost 2-1 it was pretty awesome. I haven’t played in any more games, but most evenings before the sun sets (when the 100 degree heat dissipates), I take my ball out in the street by my house and start juggling and before long, a crowd of neighborhood kids swarm and we start up a short-sided game. Some of them are super good for how small they are. And what’s my record you ask… let’s just say that they all want to be on my team.

The other night, we had a Peace Corps talent show and there was a variety of acts from guitar solos, to impromptu poetry, to traditional Namibian dances. For my part, I did some three-ball juggling, going through some of the tricks I know in the progression of how I learned them. Cascade, reverse cascade, tennis, windmill, mill’s mess, Boston mess, columns, shower, multiplexes, shuffle, in and out… I have the juggling skills but I’m still working on my performing skills... and I’ll definitely need them for circus college when I finish my Peace Corps Service!

Tomorrow is the big move! I start teaching for real next week! Yikers! It’ll probably be a whirlwind of organizing, unpacking, preparing, speaking Oshiwambo, reveling under the starry skies… Email is the best way to send me a note (and I know you all want to let me know how’s it), so until then, indeni po nawa nombili unene! (go well with big peace!) -Paka

P.S. Here is my speech in Oshiwambo and the translation to English.

Speech in Oshindonga

Mwa lala po?
Nawa ngaa?

Peha lyaalongi-aayiyambi yOshindonga, onda hala oku mu pandula. Otatu pandula uunene aanegumbo yetu mboka twa kala momagumbo geni okuza muNovomba omumvo gwa yi sigo onena. Otwa lya iikulya pamwe nane, otwa dhaneni efudho nOkrismesa wo. Otwa nyanyukwa uunene okukala mOkahandja oomwedhi ndhika mbali.

Paife, tse otatu yi kOwambo opo tu ka tameke iilonga yetu onga aalongi-aayiyambi. Otatu ka longa omwaalu, uunongononi, oshiingilisa, nokompiuta. Natango otatu ka tsikila okuilonga kombinga yomithigululwa-kalo. Otatu ka tsakaneka wo aantu aape nookuume aape, ihe itatu ke mu dhimbwa nande nande.

Otatu pandula wo sho mwetu pitika opo tu kale moNamibia, tu kwathe aaNamibia muule woomvula mbali komeho.

Pehulilo, otwa hala okupandula aadheuli yetu ayehe mwaashihe yetu ningile pethimbo lyomadheulo getu.

Omukulu gwonale okwa tile: "waa pandula noyaka." Onkee otwe mu pandula unene aaholike.

Kalunga ne mu yambeke. Tangi unene!

Speech in English

Did you all sleep well?
Are you really well?

On behalf of the teacher-volunteers from the Oshindonga group, I want to say thank you. We really thank our families who hosted us in their houses from November until now. We ate together, we celebrated the holidays and Christmas together. We enjoyed our stay in Okahandja for these two months.

Now, we are going to Owamboland to begin our work as teacher-volunteers. We will teach maths, science, English, and computers. Also, we will continue to learn about the culture. We will meet new people and new friends but we will never ever forget you.

We thank you for this opportunity to stay in Namibia and help Namibians for the next two years.

Lastly, we want to thank all of our trainers for everything they did for us during our training.

The old man once said: "If you are not grateful, you may end up stealing" (An Oshiwambo idiom meaning: Appreciate what you have and don't keep wishing for more. Count your blessings.) That's why we really thank you, our dear ones.

God bless you. Big thanks!

Omwa hala okulesha?

It definitely does not seem like December, at my house in Okahandja, we have a little mini artificial Christmas tree twinkling in the corner of the sitting room. As I sit slathered in sweat, idly distracted by the Spanish soap opera on tv, it provides a strange contrast to my nostalgic associations with the holiday season that for 23 have been fully entrenched in the comforting notions of family, pets, fireplaces, Northwest weather, hot chocolate, and egg nog. Fortunately, I have discovered my new panacea: Oshikandela! My low moments are easily alleviated by the smooth hybrid mixture of yogurt, custard, milk, and sugar, which announces its arrival by injecting my tastebuds with one of the various curative flavors of ‘sweet’, banana, strawberry, or even guava. Although I find that my salivatory and gluttonary systems sometimes need a boost, it has been relatively smooth sailing through the foodscape of Namibian cuisine. Omuhaka (sausage), iihakautu (potatoes), omakaloni (macaroni), omayi (eggs), omboloto (bread), and obuta (butter) are staples of my homestay diet. My bread/butter lunches and meat/starch dinners are fairly bland and unproblematic save for the small slice of tin-can that I found in tonight’s sausage… Peace Corps has given us a spiffy cookbook compiled by other volunteers so I hope to provide some culinary reciprocation for my host meme. Maybe I’ll try my hand at some sweet potatoes or cranberries or stuffing or turkey, all of which I dearly missed as I sat alone eating canned ohi (fish) and oshithima (porridge) for my Thanksgiving dinner.
That thought brings me to the next big piece of news for today’s bloggable agenda: other than my deplorable Thanksgiving night, my weeklong visit to my permanent site in northwest Namibia gave me renewed energy and left me highly excited for my post-training adventures! On the 23rd Nov, all twenty trainees in Nam28 traveled north to pay a visit to our prospective schools and villages where we will be living and teaching after training ends in early January. I am replacing a volunteer who has taught math and science for the last two years at a tiny village school deep in the Namibian bush. There are only 13 teachers and about 300 learners (students) from grades 1 through 10 that convene for three terms a year in a ten-room school with the most basic of facilities and supplies. There is no electricity but there are desks, textbooks, and chalkboards all of which are in various states of disrepair. I spent the week marking (grading) and invigilating (proctoring) exams, as well as getting to know my new colleagues, the Namibian school system, the levels of the learners and a general feel for how difficult my assignment as a math teacher will be. On the spectrum of scholastic ability, the learners are all over the place, but the majority can be found in the middle to lower portions. One grade 8 math question that tripped up so many kids was, “What is the difference between 289 and 286?” to which many regrettably replied that ‘one number has a 9 and the other has a 6’ instead of doing the implied subtraction. It seems like many of the problems stem from trouble understanding English but also that basic math concepts are very shaky.
Knowing that teaching could prove to be very challenging and frustrating at times, I’m glad to have been placed in a homestead with a second Namibian family that is supercoolawesome. The traditional northern Namibian homestead is a fenced fort-like structure system that encloses several mud huts scattered throughout the mazy interior. I won’t actually be living in a hut like a true Owambo person but instead in a cement house that is situated amongst the food storage containers, the chicken roosts, the kitchen area, and the other sleeping huts. At first I was disappointed to have this ‘modern-style’ oven of a house in stark contrast to the rest of my family, but the intrinsic privacy will probably turn out to be a good thing. Next to my house, there is a smaller building for my kitchen and attached is the walled-in open-air showering square. There is a clean water tap inside the homestead but the nearest electricity outlet is about a two hour walk away in the small small town where most of the teachers live. The sunsets and stars were incredible. Bucket bathing outside naked as four different lightning storms flashed across the distant sky streaked with the sunset’s fire was an amazing experience. Apart from the separate living quarters, and the fact that I’m an oshilumbu (aka mzungu aka foreignwhiteperson), I really felt comfortable with the meme and the five children of the homestead. Only the oldest boy (maybe 20 years old) speaks English so my Oshiwambo will be superb in no time. There is a 7th grade girl and a 4th grade boy that go to my school but they were too shy to try out their English with me but they did join in on some soccer and also showed me how to dance like a frog! It’s the new funky chicken. The meme only speaks Oshikwaluudhi (yet another dialect of Oshiwambo meaning that my current instruction in Oshindonga is maybe 93% applicable) but we were able to communicate through my limited vocabulary, signing, writing words and pictures in the sand, and with the translating help of the son. She has a very happy soul and personality and was proud to show me around to the neighbors and her old old father who can’t see or hear yet talked to me in rapidfire Oshiwambo for about 20 minutes straight. I’m still laughing about it now. Everyone I met (the dancing memes, the old elder kukus, the local drunks, the school kids) was really happy to see me and gave me such awesome smiles. I can’t wait to go back.
At the end of the week I got a ride into the small town nearest my school. I stayed with a volunteer who lives there and who graciously showed me around town, the best places to buy groceries, and the Pizza Den, where a killer calzone made up for my lackluster dinner the night before.
The next day on the way back to Okahandja, I spent a fairly miserable 10 hours in a combi (bus) due to the cramped hot sweaty conditions but I did happen to see a few elephants and kudu on the side of the road. Hyperbolically, I wouldn’t have survived that ride without my book of crosswords so I am greatly indebted to my dear dear late Grandmother who sparked my interest in puzzles and games of all sorts. During the last few years, I’ve unfortunately had numerous encounters with death that have left me struggling to find the vocabulary that can aptly express my feelings. Death has that powerful and strangling force that can cripple my ability of meaningful thought and has such an ephemeral effect on my emotions. It’s difficult. I love you Grandma Jean.
Back from site visits, we are all busy preparing for model school where most of us will get to experience classroom style teaching for the first time. The paperwork and preparation definitely adds up with lesson plans, syllabi, binders, etc. etc. I’m nervous but also pretty excited to try out some of my creative ideas. My host sisters left yesterday for vacation to the coast so I think I’ll be a little lonely for the next month. But it will give me time to put together a juggling routine for the Peace Corps talent show that is coming up in a few weeks. I have a snazzy internet cell phone now so I can check email a lot more frequently and for a lot cheaper that internet cafes but it’s still tough to find time and energy to write these updates. If you can get your hands on an international phone card and feel so inclined, all incoming calls are free on my end so I would love to hear from you. Let me know and I can email you my phone number. Until inspiration and serendipity strike,

Ombili (Peace)
Love, Paka