Training, Tourists, and Witchcraft

It is now squarely the middle of the second term of the school year. I am almost 8 months into my service, which is sort of mind-blowing when I think about it. I have not been able to describe a lot of things that have happened recently. Two months ago I finished my first term and then went to the Peace Corps “Reconnect” conference, which is basically them asking “Are you ok? Still alive? Why don't you come into town for some training and a clean room and free food?” Once you're a Peace Corps Volunteer it's pretty difficult to pass that sort of thing up. By the end of the week I was well fed and somewhat trained and realized that there was not a lot left that the Peace Corps can give me, except to keep the quarterly paychecks coming. Which actually they forgot to do last time and I ended up stranded at a friend's house house with about $5 in my pocket for a week.

After the conference I had about a month of vacation. I went on a 10 day tour of Namibia with some other volunteers and a few random tourists. It was awesome! Namibia is such a beautiful country. We saw a whirlwind's worth of Namibia: The famous Etosha game park, the Namib desert and dunes, the ocean, rock paintings, and even had a face-to-face encounter with the elusive Desert Elephant which has to go days without water as it walks from oasis to oasis. I wish I had pictures to show you! But I dropped my camera in a sand dune and now it is broken. It was really interesting to tour with the other tourists, fresh from the 1st world. I guess it is a mark of how far I have come. They were hesitant where I am now confident. They easily fell for the crap that they hawk to tourists on the streets of Windhoek. The dynamic of encountering Namibians as servants to a mostly white elite was very strange. Lastly, it was comforting to sink into the role of a tourist and not be “The eccentric American teacher from Kahenge.”

It is now winter in Namibia. I didn't realize that it could actually get cold over here, but it is maybe 40 degrees in the mornings. The learners still come to school at sunrise but since we switched for daylight's savings they are now an hour early. They like to make small fires to keep warm. They don't have enough gloves to go around so friends will each wear one glove to write with, the other hand is jammed into their pocket. It hasn't rained since March. At morning the sky is mostly clear but by nighttime the dust from the trucks is 10 feet high. The dust makes for some great sunsets. Lastly, the leaves on the trees fall off over here too! I know this is a small detail but I did not at all expect it.

Cultural Note: Witchcraft
Witchcraft in Namibia is serious business. Even though I approach the subject with skepticism or even in jest, I would say that most Namibians I have met legitimately believe in the existence of witches and the power of their magic. There are good and bad witches, although most have sinister motives. The power of witches are diverse, they can do everything from healing or cursing people, they can enlarge or diminish the size of sexual organs. They can cast a spell so that when you shake your boss's hand you will be promoted the next day. People are very forthcoming with 'evidence'. There is the story (myth?) of the witch who was shoplifting food from the OK Foods Supermarket. When the police shot at her leg to stop her, the leg turned into a snake and she ran away! She eventually escaped.

It is really interesting to discuss these topics with Namibians, actually it is difficult to keep a straight face. They will admit of course that the witch's power lies in your own admittance of belief, but many fully believe, Christian or not. Of course there are many traditional healers that similarly use magic. It seems reasonable to me that people might actually be healed by these people through the power of belief. Although, most healers are also able to cure HIV/AIDS.

The power of witches comes from incantations that require material components. The power of the component correlates with it's life force. For example, if your goal is to enlarge a client's penis, then plant materials might be sufficient. Anything more powerful and you will require animal flesh. The most powerful spells require human blood or organs. There is a word in Rukwangali, Kakorora, meaning “Cutter of Body Parts” A Kakorora is a type of mercenary that will wait in the forest and capture and kill a hapless victim, then sell the body parts to a witch. I was very concerned about this at first because I frequently walk in the forest. But, rest assured, white-person body parts are useless to the witches. Whew! There was recently a story in the newspaper about a man who was arrested by the police while serenely walking down the road. A briefcase he was carrying was full of severed human limbs!!

Well, that's about all from over here. Please, keep those letter coming! Actually they have stopped coming in recent days. I promise to be a faithful, diligent, and prodigious pen-pal. Please, your letters make my day.

Love,

Ben

March 30 Approaching End of First Term

March 30, 2007
Today I attended meeting with the school board and management that was 6 hours long! The entire meeting was conducted in Rukwangali which meant that I followed about 1/1000th of the meeting. I mostly stared out the window and watched the learners play soccer and the newborn goats bleat. The topic of the meeting was an investigation of a supposed affair between a teacher and one of his 15-year-old students. It is a taboo thing for sexual love to exist between teachers and students, yet it seems to always be happening in Namibia. At worst, the teacher will be fired from Kahenge (though not blacklisted from teaching). He may be kept; ironically, he is one of our best teachers. He will definitely not be arrested or go to jail.

I'm not sure what to make of it all. It is an act I find morally repugnant, yet as each day passes, I find it--along with similar cultural differences--less shocking. I have to be very tactful about my comments and not distance myself from others. It is a trait I am cultivating. Not to be angry when teachers will not show up at the school for a week straight, when learners cheat in front of my eyes, or any sort of obvious corruption. It might be an immoral act in my opinion, but it's not worth the soft power I would lose to take a hard stance.

Otherwise, and as usual, life is pretty good. Last week, Independence Weekend, I got 5 days off and visited some friends in the Kavango. Turns out, I was not the only person with the same idea--there were 17 people sleeping on the floor in their small house! Some highlights of the weekend: catching up on gossip, seeing a lion at close range, and also laughing for pretty much 5 days straight. Some downers: someone was sick every night we were there (you just get used to it in Africa), and sleeping on the floor for 4 nights and probably getting less than 4 hours of sleep every night. One thing you can say about the Peace Corps is that it is hardly dull and rarely comfortable. In a very gratifying way, those rare moments of comfort or companionship (or good food) become greatly treasured.

Today I went for a run for the first time that I have been at Kahenge. Maybe it seems insignificant from afar, but it took a tremendous will to start myself running. When I first came to Kahenge I was stared at constantly. Children would peek into my windows, they would follow me from afar; adults would just unabashedly stare! It got to the point where I would do whatever I could to not stand out, to try to be invisible. And that meant, definitely, not running. But today I made myself run. First, I put on my shoes, and then I stretched, and then I took one step out the door. And then I ran. Wouldn't you know, it wasn't nearly as embarrassing as I dreaded it would be. Yes, I was stared at. Some children ran with me part of the way, and at one point I even had to run around a herd of cattle standing in the road. It went so well that I think I will try it again tomorrow.

The first trimester is almost over. The learners will have their finals in two weeks. I have high hopes for the second term. Hopefully, my students will start passing my tests and asking questions in class. I have a lot of projects I want to start as well; such as, finding computers so that Kahenge will have a computer lab, encouraging students to use the library (it is locked pretty much every day) and to get more books. I will apply for many grants and shower Kahenge with money, self-sustaining community projects, and perhaps even teach the students a thing or two.

During the holiday between the 1st and 2nd terms, we are called back to the capital to attend a "Reconnect" workshop. They say if you make it to Reconnect, you will last for two years. Almost there! It will be really good to see all of the other volunteers that I haven't seen for 3 months, to recharge batteries, and to stock up on essential consumer goods: movies, fast food, and candy. Can I make it for 2 years? I think so. The challenge now is not surviving, but thriving; to create a sustainable world that I can sanely live in.

Last week a learner at Kahenge was eaten by a crocodile. He was swimming across the river to fetch a dugout canoe when the beast got him. His friends watched him being dragged under but could do nothing. The government is trying to catch and kill it, but so far no luck. He is probably gone for ever. People seemed shocked when they heard the news but not nearly as shocked as I was (or you probably were). Animal attack is just a danger of living out here, I guess, whether it is by crocodile, or snake or elephant.

After Reconnect, I am going on a ten day trip of Namibia through a tour company called "Crazy Kudu Wild Dog."

The Rains, Teaching, Kwangali Culture and Other Updates from Kahenge

March 8, 2007
It’s raining torrentially again. I was told that the rain would stop in March, but so far, not dry. It has been raining pretty much every day since January. Then it abruptly stops, the water soaks into the sand, the stray dogs leave our porch, the young boys continue herding, and the brightest rainbow imaginable fills the sky. But soon the rains will stop and the land will be parched. It will hardly rain again until December, and it will just get hotter until then. I would love the nights except for the threat of malaria-carrying mosquitoes. It becomes cool and quiet. When the moon is hidden you cannot see anything except the brilliant stars and the rare and foolish nighttime drivers.

Malaria! It is the thick of malaria season. The Peace Corps tells me this is the most dangerous disease I will encounter in Namibia. But I have plenty of safeguards: a prophylaxis that mutes the symptoms, a trusty mosquito bed net, and killer coils that I burn at night. I’m doing pretty well: 1 or 2 bites a week, sometimes none. Still, it’s unnerving to know that a single bite could potentially be life-threatening.

Some people have asked about teaching, which is a relevant question. Teaching, or improving as a teacher, is pretty much all I think about. I live at a rural boarding school—there’s nothing else here except the school. All of my friends are teachers who live at the school. There are learners everywhere, always. I would have to be in my room, windows closed, shades drawn to not hear or see a learner. It’s all-consuming.

Teaching is usually difficult, sometimes rewarding. First of all, I’ve never been a teacher before. You just don’t appreciate the amount of time and effort it takes to get it all working seamlessly. It never works seamlessly. I’m getting better at it quickly, but my classroom is usually a loose ship. Second, the learners are taught in English, but they can barely understand it. Their speaking is worse, and their writing skills appalling. They are taught by well-meaning teachers whose own skills are only slightly better. A couple of other points: students and teachers (!) regularly skip classes, most of my learners cannot afford notebooks or pens or school fees, there are not enough textbooks or desks, the textbooks are outdated with the newer national syllabus, and the textbooks don’t contain sample problems or enough homework problems. Is the situation appalling? Maybe. At least the kids are healthy and fed enough and have a stable environment. It’s certainly disheartening. That’s why I cling to blind hope. Hope that somehow, someway, I am helping some learner. It’s too dangerous to have expectations, so I don’t. What keeps me going? The learners. The ones that care are about the sweetest, most disciplined, enthusiastic teenagers you can find. I think of them and my spirits rebound and I get back up with a little more passion.

Cultural Note: In traditional Kwangali culture, all land was communal. Anyone could build their house anywhere and farm anywhere. No one had an exclusive claim to anything although precedence for use was respected. The Kwangali chief and representative council would appoint permission for use and settle any land, monetary, or legal issues. As Namibia has moved into the 21st century and as a nation, this heritage has survived pretty well. Most land is now owned by the government, although the tribal chief and the "Kwangali Cultural Authority" still will arbitrate allocation or disputes. A Kavango resident can choose whether to have a case decided by a modern court or by traditional institutions. Most choose the traditional. As a legacy of apartheid, large tracts of land, usually of the best quality, belong to private farms owned by Boers or other white people. Namibians don’t love this, although the farms are profitable and create employment. On a more practical level, the communal lands mean that there are cattle and goats grazing everywhere. Goats run into our yard and into my classroom (sometimes). Small boys herd cattle past the office, through the soccer field and courtyard, and to the river for water. Our neighbors are growing millet just 50 feet from our house. Exclusive ownership is something of a foreign thing. If you have a bag of candy, it’s expected that you share it until it’s gone. People come to our yard to use the water tap, to dry their clothes on our laundry line. I will borrow my roommate’s iron without thinking twice about it. It’s not all a utopian dream. If something is owned by everyone, then it is maintained by no one. Learners work really well in groups, but then don’t think of it as cheating to hand identical assignments. Also, I’m not sure what the line is between a traditional cultural of communal living and the sharing that occurs out of poverty. Still, it’s fascinating.

Next weekend is Namibian Independence Day. I get 5 days off from school, so I’ll travel to Rundu and enjoy the celebrations and then go to the Mahango Game Park where I have been promised to see hippos and crocodiles and potentially over 200 species of birds. Passion for teaching or not, I need to leave Kahenge occasionally to recharge my batteries and get my bearing. As for now, I remain happy and healthy.
Keep those letters coming!