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Gauging your Life by Moon Phases and Beetles
Gobabeb is one of those places where not much happens and therefore you notice just about every change. In Early October the major event was big red beetles attacking the SLUMS. Rauna and Snake say you start to anticipate the "seasons" based on the type of beetles around. Sorta like watching the leaves change and the first snowfall-only Gobabebian style. So, these beetles fly (making them not of our valued tenebrionid kind) and tend to dive-bomb SLUMS residents. They mark the start of the rainy season- not at Gobabeb (which isn't lucky enough to get such luxuries like water falling from the sky), but more in the catchment area. After dive-bombing, they land on their backs and for some reason can't get up and even if they do, they somehow forget they can fly, and almost always die. As Olavi says, "These are stupid beetles!" One night, after lights out we were all sitting around at the table outside and the beetles kept dive-bombing our candle, being attracted to the light. It was almost as if we were in the mi
ddle of some strange natural war- and we were losing! Finally a beetle succeeded in extinguishing our flame and we decided it was then time to retreat to bed. The next morning- the beetle bodies were strewn across the SLUMS floor- like dead soldiers on a battlefield. Kate was telling me that when she was at her workshop, the SLUMS are now infested by caterpillars everywhere. Soon it will be the beetles that come before the river flows and then back to early winter. Geeze- life is really flying by!
My favorite attribute of Gobabeb has to be the moon. The phases of the moon mark the passing of time, much more clearly than looking at my calendar in the office. New moons give the night sky a healthy glow- and you can see the stars, the Southern Cross, and the Milky Way so vividly. It is also the best time for looking for scorpions with UV lights. (Don't tell my Mom I partake in such activities!). Then the moon slowly grows, each night getting lighter and lighter outside. The full moon is the best- a beautiful big ball in the night sky. You don't even need a flashlight to walk around. Some nights it takes forever to rise- not hitting the top of the water tower until 10 or so. Those nights Olavi and I always like to stand on the tables in the SLUMS and watch the moon rise, encouraging it on.
So, I've learned to mark the passage of time, not by when we start getting frost or when my head starts becoming a big ball of stress at Grinnell (which would be right about now if I remember rightly..), but more in the lines of natural time-keeping instruments like beetle seasons and moon phases. A lot more relaxing, I would say.
Sept. 11th
I was in the radio room- making a few photocopies. All of a sudden Kate runs in and yells "The World Trade Center's been attacked!" and then runs out again, heading to CNN on the TV. My stomach sank, my head started spinning, and under shock, I slowly made my way to the tearoom. The vision on CNN was not one I will ever forget, as will no American alive during this time. For the next few hours, Kate and I sat by CNN (which thankfully switched to broadcasting American CNN, as I really needed some American news at that time) and took turns trying to call our families. We also called Emily, who was alone in Windhoek, and neither of us could imagine what she was going through being by herself. Being abroad Sept. 11th was a surreal experience. Being in Gobabeb Sept. 11th just added to the strangeness of the ordeal. Everything seemed so far away and I couldn't come to grips with anything. It was also the time of the Tulipamwe International Artist's Festival at Gobabeb. So, the station was filled with people from Eu
rope, Australia, and other parts of Africa. Anytime someone would ask Kate and I where we are from (not like the accent doesn't give it away), they would always say "Oh. I'm sorry for what happened." A constant reminder that something horrible was happening in my home country, and that no one besides Kate, could really understand.
For the first few days, I would watch CNN off and on. Kate and I were torn between wanting to know what was going on and not wanting to know anything more. We found ways to distract ourselves- like checking pit-traps with Olavi and Snake and taking a few extended lunches- making tortillas even! But- the lull of CNN kept pulling us back.
Now we get State Department updates and U.S. Embassy warden messages- warning of new possible attacks, small protests in Windhoek, and urging us "to keep a low profile." Obviously, the state department doesn't understand Americans in Africa, as "keeping a low profile" is damn near impossible. (We all kept thinking that when we were being a bit rowdy and over-excited over the salad bar and burrito options at Spur- the closed thing to a TGI-Friday's in Windhoek). Although, being at Gobabeb is probably the safest place in the world right now and I am not concerned for our safety here in Namibia. Rauna, however, did say if the Taliban come, she'll put up big signs near my caravan saying "The American lives here!" but luckily I can joke about it all- at least some of the time.
My Peril with Languages
I've been trying to learn Oshiwambo since I've gotten to Namibia. Granted, as Snake reminds me, I haven't tried that hard, and it's more just something I talk about than actually getting anything accomplished with. However, SDP is in "the north" this year and considering English is a bit hard to come by in the rural area where Lake Oponono is, I've decided I should learn at least a few basic phrases- mainly so I won't look like a bumbling insensitive American (keeping a state department low profile, of course!). So, one night over a couple "sundowner" taffels, I made Olavi help me learn my Oshiwambo. Unfortunately, Olavi is Kavango, and therefore never formally learned Oshiwambo and couldn't help me very much (the only formal sentences he taught me were "We are drinking beer" and "I am American.") So, we kept yelling at Tate Mtuleni in the kitchen when we got stuck. Snake kept running back from the kitchen to our table outside translating a word or two and then running back into the kitchen, where he was maki
ng dinner. (Every night the boys cook, I feel it's 80% effort, and they always try to impress Laura to convince her they can actually handle a stove). All in all, my Oshiwambo is still a bit lacking. Nevertheless, I'm sure with a little more effort, I can learn quite a bit during SDP. And, I at least can say "Ehe" and a few other words that are the same as Shona.
When I'm in Windhoek, almost everyone on the street greets me in Afrikaans. At the service station yesterday, the attendant wouldn't stop speaking Afrikaans to me, even after every reply I said was in English. I've slowly learned to just nod a few times and say "Dankie" when leaving. But, I certainly don't like Afrikaans. It could be that it has this colonial stigma attached to it (not like English is any better), but I think it's mainly that I can't pronounce the g's and h's (I just don't like spitting up while speaking) and much prefer the Namibian languages, which are at least pleasant to hear when I'm not understanding a darn word. I've therefore convinced Olavi that he should only speak English, Oshiwambo, and Kavango. He agreed- saying he only speaks Afrikaans because of "necessary conditions" and wants to switch to English anyway because it's a reminder of the past. Now every time he starts speaking Afrikaans, I give him a hard stare and say "language.." and then he laughs and tries to convince me he w
as speaking Oshiwambo. I guess Afrikaans is more ingrained in the people of Namibia than I would like to think.
Despite my lacking Oshiwambo, my "Namlish" is coming along swimmingly. Aye aye aye, is now my immediate response to show shock, disbelief, concern, or really it's just about my response to everything. Aye, Man is another big one. Basically, anything with "aye." I also do a nice "Yebo!"- which although Zulu (or Ndebele which is how I know it), is used as a slang yes!. I even left Emily a note on her computer saying "I'm coming just now"- I don't think I was really thinking. When walking back from our study site with Olavi, Lesley, and some students from Polytech in late September, one of the students asked Olavi how long I had been in Namibia and when he said only since June, the student was quite amazed. Olavi said the student was very impressed with my Namlish for being in Namibia for such a short time! I guess that's what spending all my time with Namibians will do to my English prowess (the little that was there before anyway). Becca assures me it comes back, though, so I'm not too worried.
Life at the DRFN/GTRC
Ok, so this is probably the part you (the person lost in thoughts of future) actually wants to read. Well, in short, I am really enjoying my work thus far. Working with Namibian students has been a great experience and the environmental education part of my fellowship has been incredible rewarding. It's given me a lot of motivation about environmental activities and my future in the movement, as well as giving me a nice break from press conferences and rallies back home. However, the Training Assistant work doesn't take up much time and therefore I do seem to have a two-tiered job- the official 'training assistant' position and the unofficial 'help keep Gobabeb running' position. As I told Doug on his visit- anyone with strong personal initiative can do this job well, as half of it is making things up as you go along. It's been a lot of fun and I feel I've learned a lot of skills I've wanted to learn, just by asking and taking the day to do it.
Right now I'm busy with getting things ready for Summer Desertification Programme (SDP for those in the know of the world of DRFN acronyms) and have been working with Viviane in Windhoek non-stop for the last week or so. Viv, a grad of SDP8, is great and it's interesting to see what her job outside SDP consists of. We went to a workshop on the President's tree planting task force and prepared a presentation for a UNAM conference. My main task right now is finding cheap shade for the field part of SDP (it looks like the President might have the right idea as there are no trees anywhere near Lake Oponono), so if anyone has any ideas for creative shade alternatives, let me know! Viv says I should probably get paid half her salary this month, as I've helped her so much! (I guess now that I mysteriously have a "work permit" stamp in my passport, the DRFN could start giving me some funds. Ha ha.)
It is hard to really explain my work succinctly after being here for five months. Most of it just happens- day to day- nothing to write home about. I've worked into a good routine and always have at least four or five open projects on my desk. And, I've gotten some nice arm muscles carrying computers around everywhere as part of the whole "managing a computer network" part of my job. Things have also gotten busy enough that a week goes by without really noticing. Busy, busy, busy! But, again, I wouldn't trade it for my head being a big ball of stress during crunch time at Grinnell for anything!
Time in the Capital
For the past few weeks I've been in Windhoek working on SDP and will be here until we leave for the field in December. This is, by far, the largest amount of time I've spent in Windhoek and it brings out a whole new range of emotions and thoughts. It's hard living with two people who actually live here and I often thrown into someone else's life. But, it is always a nice change from Gobabeb and makes me appreciate going "home" all the more.
As Kate and Emily have mentioned in their reports- Windhoek is pretty much "Africa for beginners," being a city about the size of Des Moines and having a fairly international context and make-up. Explaining Namibia to the Canadians Kate and I gave a lift back from Botwana, once again made me realize how manageable life in Windhoek is- we have big grocery stores, nice restraunts, arts and cultural activities, a reasonable newspaper, and if we're really bored- lots of bottle stores! In Windhoek I often forget that I am in Africa and could as well be working for an NGO in California (with a lot more black faces) or somewhere like that. Life is very normal- I get up in the morning, take a shower (in Grinnell tradition- only on necessary days- hey, at least we get the cover of saving water!), eat breakfast (toast or cereal or some other typical boring breakfast item), drive in our car to work, work until lunch- mainly on a computer (taking time to check e-mail and surf the net a bit), eat lunch, go back to work, g
o home at five- occasionally stopping by the grocery store, eat dinner (either making something or going out), and sometimes catch a movie in the evening or just sit around the kitchen table talking to Kate and Emily. A pretty typical day, which could happen in any number of cities worldwide. Besides exciting ventures to the National Library (and discovering they don't check out books!) or Department of Forestry or MET, days are typical office workdays. I think this is unique to the Namibia Fellowship- if you want some good office experience while living with a couple of Grinnellians in a fairly navigable city, while still getting a taste of African culture- this one's for you!
All in all, those are the highlights of my life working for the DRFN since my last report. For anyone out there reading actually taking the time to read these things, feel free to contact me at shannona@drfn.org.na if you have any in depth questions about the fellowship.
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