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I have recently remembered that in my Grinnell Corps Namibia interview I actually said, eagerly and earnestly, "…and I love to write about my experiences abroad and I promise that I will get my quarterly reports in on time!" Now, one month past the deadline for this report, I see why Gobabeb alum and interviewer Emily Westergaard actually laughed at me and said, "yeah, well, we'll see about that"…
I have been here for ten months now, and if I had to illustrate my experience with just a few words, I would choose: unique, interesting, extreme, challenging and empowering, unbelievable. Considering that I live and work at a research/space station in the middle of the Namib Desert, "unique" and "interesting" are obvious choices. "Extreme" covers the wide range of tasks, including the scary ones (I'm still not over teaching Biology to 50 University of Namibia students), the people I have met from all over the world and walks of life, the climate, the isolation. "Challenging and empowering", most of all, are inseparable, constantly pushing me, relentlessly true. "Unbelievable" describes all that I have been exposed to, all that I have done, and the big bad global problems, like irreversible environmental degradation, that I have worked towards solving. My work here has transcended any expectations I had before coming-I had no way of knowing how I would be able to contribute, or how I would be changed.
All year I have been imagining the "big picture", not just of my own life and experience here, but of the scope of challenges facing this institution, this country, this planet. I have had to balance these semi-academic, overwhelming thoughts with tackling specific tasks, achieving one small goal at a time. I like thinking big because my motivation stems from the purity and beauty of protecting the environment; also from the joy of teaching students why a leaf tastes like salt, from knowing that I am trying to solve important problems and getting to have fun in Africa in the process, even if I am not perfect, or even helpful, all of the time. Some days I battle feeling completely insignificant and like giving up completely-it can be way too hot here, the internet is really slow, there is no money, and Uranium Mines of Doom are lurking, literally, around the corner. Most days, however, I believe in Gobabeb and Namibia wholeheartedly, and I just try to be a part of the good things that happen here everyday.
Just as it's sometimes difficult for me to come down from thinking about all the problems of the world to formulate my day's to-do list, it's hard to transition from reflecting in the abstract to writing about my specific projects and accomplishments… but I also realize that curiosity about what I actually DO, not just think and feel, is what has you reading this report, so I'll also describe two (definitely not all!) of the projects I have been working on:
What on earth is a Finnish Education Module?
Finally, in April, I can explain to you clearly that the Finnish Education Modules are a series of 12 binders which contain helpful background information, course outlines, and training activities on relevant topics which enable us to, you know, enhance capacity for environmental awareness and future decision making in Namibia and southern Africa. Though it sounds simple, it took me quite a few e-mails to Sarah Evans before I really understood the project and how to carry it out. With her patient help, and after a few months of teaching, I was finally able to grasp the importance of streamlining Gobabeb's training program, and how to do it. Over three years and four training fellows, starting with Sarah, Grinnellians will boldly manage this project, coordinating the compilation of material (including giving interns stuff to do), and identifying which modules are the most important to develop-I have pushed for "Climate Change", "Topnaar Tourism Training", and "Integrated Water Resource Management", to name a
few. I have also been responsible for designing a marketable and user-friendly module template. I am responsible for reporting directly to the Finnish Embassy, and am prepared for and even anticipating an upcoming visit to Gobabeb. The project is really cool because it standardizes and organizes the Gobabeb training program, improving our faulty "institutional memory"; the binders will enable future Grinnellians, interns, whomever, to build upon a library of knowledge and avoid "reinventing the wheel" with each new year. On a personal level, it feels good that even if people don't remember that it was me who formatted the original modules or picked out the brightly colored binders, I have done work that will benefit Gobabeb in the long run.
International Year of Deserts and Desertification-2006, and some of 2007
From June 06 to June 07-my exact time here-Gobabeb has been serving as the coordinator of all nationwide activities under the auspices of IYDD, promoting the theme, "Proud of Our Deserts While Combating Desertification". Activities include information dissemination and generation (hence, a lot of article writing and editing) and, in my case, designing training courses around this theme. We organize and chair periodic meetings with a stakeholder committee consisting of Gobabeb, the Desert Research Foundation of Namibia, UNESCO, and representatives from different government ministries, such as the Ministry of Environment and Tourism. Each stakeholder brings a different angle to the table, and all have made the effort to incorporate IYDD into their work throughout the year. My work on the IYDD project has been some of my most enjoyable and productive; I have gained an insider's perspective and contributed to multi-sector, public/private cooperation and environmental problem solving. In the process, I have
been able to meet and work with a range of really interesting and important Namibians. I am also dear friends with the Gobabeb coordinator of the project, Emily, and I work closely with her, especially on her writing, which alone has brought several unforgettable rewards.
My main task under IYDD, and biggest challenge, has been inventing and coordinating a school essay competition for all coastal secondary schools, the winners of which will participate in my "Deserts and Desertification Youth Leadership Course" in early May. I plan on teaching the winning students about the value and sensitivity of natural deserts and how to combat desertification in Namibia. I also plan on motivating them with a bag full of cool Gobabeb and IYDD paraphernalia to give the event an over-the-top professional vibe, and a memorable excursion through the dunes on Wanda, our old army truck from Botswana. Eventually, I hope they will return to their own school(s) and share this knowledge with their peers-that's the point, really.
Unfortunately, the quality of my vision and moral support from the steering committee haven't made the actual organization of the competition any less difficult or frustrating. Despite multiple news adverts, faxes, and e-mail invitations, I still had to call and badger each coastal school into participating. In the end, I have only received essays from two schools, not ten. When I contacted them again, teachers reported that they didn't have enough time to participate (I gave them over a month), or even more disturbing, that they didn't know enough about desertification themselves to help their students with their essays. So, once again, I have to get over myself, my pride, and change tactics: instead of measuring my success by how many schools participated, I will focus my energy on making sure that my winners experience quality training at Gobabeb. I have learned to let go of what I can't control, and to fight to make the most out of what I can-I plan on giving those ten lucky white prep-school kids a
week to remember.
Laura in Namibia
Something, too, about living in the desert (and having to periodically write quarterly reports about my life) has given me the opportunity to be intimately self-reflective, and honest with myself about what I see. This year has been full of small but profound realizations about which skills and qualities I possess that have helped me succeed, those I thought would but haven't at all, and the new skills and even quirks that I have had to quickly learn, adopt, and apply. My access to vast desert spaces and having Julia to talk to in the quiet evenings, has given me the time and room to identify and work on some personal weaknesses, to examine the uncomfortable moments, and to revel in some wonderful surprises about myself and the world. On a light note, I'd like to share my realizations about which of my skills and qualities have been useful, or not. I have divided them into three categories:
1) Skills I learned at Grinnell, despite the best efforts of Professors and Academic Advising:
I am so grateful that I was a far cry from the perfect student at Grinnell. Don't tell, but out here in the "real world" I frequently rely on my ability to procrastinate and still write a decent paper in one night, and/or my knack for meaningfully participating in class without having done the reading. As if my head were the ER and my never-ending to-do list a line of patients, since freshmen year I have been honing the triage skills which help me identify what 60% of my work I am actually going to be able to do, and which 40% I'm going to have to totally fake/dismiss with a few stitches and a flimsy band-aid. Very. Helpful. Alternatively, I have also had to give up some of my Grinnellian perfectionism, and a workable definition of time and deadlines. I have also had to learn to take myself WAY less seriously, and to balance humility and a realistic sense of my limits, with self-confidence and being a "yes girl".
An example: Back when I was still a perfectionist (around January or so), I had grand visions of writing an article for IYDD about the classically immeasurable worth of natural deserts for an up-and-coming national magazine, Space. I was supposed to co-author the piece with the famous Mary Seely, and I was determined to gracefully balance philosophical insights into a global problem with articulating the value of conservation in a way that all Namibians could relate to. And, like many of my grand ideas here, other things came up and prioritized themselves, Mary went out of the country, the piece never actually turned into reality. I did, however, publish something in the cool Space Magazine… it was an article about sheep dung, and I wrote it in less than a day. One afternoon in February, my boss, having sort of submitted an intern's far from polished (and actually partially plagiarized) article on "archaeology in the Namib", called me in a panic-apparently the editor of the magazine was anxiously waiting
for "something publishable!" from Gobabeb and had delayed sending the magazine to press for a day to give us a chance. If I could write it, this was an "opportunity to get some major press!" So I said yes, of course, dropping everything else and agreeing to salvage/totally rewrite the piece. I thought to myself "come on Laura, you've written harder papers than this in less than 24 hours-remember that 15 pager for Professor X that you wrote in like 10 hours?" Even if it wasn't exactly my dream to debut my career as a journalist with an article about dating sheep poop back 8,000 years in some cave, I pulled it off, and I have years of procrastination to thank (and Julia-she helped me edit it when I was severely sleep deprived).
2) Skills I was actually supposed to learn at Grinnell, and it turns out did:
Of course I have also used some of those more "resume-appropriate" skills and qualities too. The kind of stuff that didn't make me stand out at the sea of talent that is Grinnell (it's true), but sets me apart from a lot of the world. I have one of the strongest commands of the English language in this whole desert, believe it or not, and have therefore written and edited countless articles (besides the sheep dung one), press releases, and meeting minutes. I invoke the powers of the Writing Lab when I sit down for an editing session with a co-worker, and amaze myself by helping others identify, and even circle in purple ink, examples of Namlish or passive-voice. When I teach or present to a group of visiting VIPs-such as the members of the Swedish International Development Authority we presented to this weekend-I never put too many words on a PowerPoint slide, and I speak clearly. After so many holistically focused class discussions and Rosenfield luncheons, I'm not scared to talk to important people and
brainstorm about ways to network and cooperate on complex development issues. I approach pothead interns like a concerned and caring SA. I even find myself happy to have suffered through so many group statistics projects, drawing on a reserve of patience I must have built up during those tedious meetings Junior year in the Forum, back when it was decorated with that terrible lattice-work. I "work well under pressure", and having maintained my sanity this year, I am clearly able to handle a lot of responsibility at once.
3) Skills I have dedicated a LOT of time to perfecting, and will no doubt never need to use again:
In addition to generally-useful-in-life skills, I have also picked up a lot of almost freakish ones. I have no idea how I do it, but without speaking a word of German, Afrikaans, or Oshivambo, I can usually guess what my coworkers or the interns are talking about and jump into their conversation. I can also navigate the path to my room in total darkness, successfully avoiding the giant boulders and the few scattered shrubs. I defy the odds and drink enough water daily and haven't been sunburned for like four months. I am a certified "Namibian Defensive Driver" and know how to drive with a stick-shift on the left side of treacherous desert roads. I have mastered which opening statements-"this is only a 30-second question!"-keep meetings from sucking black-holishly massive amounts of time away from me. I keep my granola in the fridge so the cockroaches won't get into it. And some days I wake up and groan, somehow intuitively knowing that the day is going to be full of crazy surprises, and that I should make a
double batch of coffee and kiss my well-laid plans for the day goodbye (this happens a lot).
Break my heart, it's only a matter of weeks now…
I will be in Vermont when I write my next quarterly report. Hopefully by then I can better articulate how this experience has changed me, what other skills and knowledge I bring home with me, and just how incredible it has been to be a teeny part of a cause so much bigger than myself. I also hope to share my thoughts on intern supervising and the financial sustainability of Gobabeb in the long-run. But I can't look that far ahead just yet. At this point in the timeline of my experience, month ten, I have enjoyed looking back, seeing how far I have come, while also planning how to accomplish my outstanding goals in the next two months. It's time to accept that I'm on the homestretch, and that I only have a matter of weeks to enjoy finally feeling really settled, professional, and capable. Accepting this reality, that I'm leaving soon, is actually a little heartbreaking; as if I have fallen in love and just as my relationship with Namibia has become less exhilarating-less like that euphoric cloud 9 phase of
love-and more like a solid, irreplaceable part of my life, I have to prepare myself to say goodbye, detach, and move on.
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