It's time to finish up with South Africa and move onto what's next. We came home from Cape Town last Monday. I went to Valpo for 3 days where I could process with people who have previously been in the CGE Namibia program. Then I headed home for 3 days. Now I've been in Birmingham for 3 days doing training for Youthworks, which is what I have worked with for the last 3 summers. On Friday, I head to Atlanta with 3 other individuals to lead Christian service trips for the summer. My role is to coordinate several crews of high school youth in sending them to different ministries and service organizations in Atlanta.
This shift has been so busy that I have not had much time to sit and ponder over my experience in Namibia. It was not until last night when I was chatting with a guy from the Youthworks office that I finally "snapped." We discovered that he did the same Namibia program with CGE in 1994, which is nuts because Namibia got its independence in 1990 and South Africa in 1994. He then led a discussion on poverty with the other 70 staff in training. It was incredibly difficult to sit and listen to their perspectives after what I have experienced. Poverty is entirely different in the US as compared to Namibia, but my experience in Namibia has no doubt shook me up when thinking about living in this world with such inequality and injustice.
When I think of poverty now, I can't help but think of it in terms of how individuals not in poverty are the ones causing it. The culture of my own background is the oppressor that takes hope away from those without hope. People in poverty rarely do anything by themselves that puts them into their poverty. And if they are currently making bad decisions that keeps them there, it is our inability to acknowledge their own integrity that pushes them to their habits. What are we doing that is creating this culture of hopelessness in individuals? Why are we not welcoming all individuals? As I walked between bars at night in the downtown streets of Cape Town, I saw individuals who had probably not been acknowledged as a real person created in the image of God. I could visibly see what this had done on the psyche of these individuals. Then I came home and saw the same longing to be acknowledged as a creation of God in the homeless individuals on the streets of Chicago.
You might call me a young idealist from reading some of my writings, but I've have my bouts of unrealistic and unexperienced idealism. yeah...time for me to eat dinner and get back to this later. I have many more reflections about Namibia and I will probably keep this blog going to share my experiences from Atlanta.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Rugby
We reached Cape Town 2 days ago.
Today was a good day. Went to Robben Island...saw the cell where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. Had ostrich steak for lunch. Watched crazy fire breathers. But mainly, Kesem and I went to a professional rugby match. It was awesome...It was probably a stadium of 40,000 that was filled. Interestingly, 95% of the audience was white. I suppose apartheid still lives on in big ways. I would expect 95% white in MN where white is a majority, but here, whites compose a minimal percentage.
Yep, that's all. Rugby is a good time. Tomorrow we see where the Indian and Atlantic meet.
Today was a good day. Went to Robben Island...saw the cell where Nelson Mandela was imprisoned. Had ostrich steak for lunch. Watched crazy fire breathers. But mainly, Kesem and I went to a professional rugby match. It was awesome...It was probably a stadium of 40,000 that was filled. Interestingly, 95% of the audience was white. I suppose apartheid still lives on in big ways. I would expect 95% white in MN where white is a majority, but here, whites compose a minimal percentage.
Yep, that's all. Rugby is a good time. Tomorrow we see where the Indian and Atlantic meet.
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Street Vending
Victoria Falls
I suppose its time to mention Vic Falls even though it was a month ago. We spent a day homeless waiting in Otjiwarango for a bus. Naturally, we visited the crocodile farm to kill some time. Sadly, they were out of meat. Come 10pm, we loaded a bus and arrived in Zambia at 1pm the next day. We stayed at Jollyboys Backpackers in the town of Livingstone, which is about 20 minutes from the falls. One of the girls with us thought there was a huge fire because she thought she saw tons of smoke, but it was only the spray of the falls.
I visited the falls several times and it blew my mind. I can’t think of any place where you can get soaked with rain when it’s clear skies. Safety precautions are a little more lax than places in the US. We dipped our feet in the Zambezi about 8 meters above the falls. We also went on a 2 day canoe trip on the Zambezi. We wanted to go rafting but the water was ridiculously high. We also spent another day doing a gorge swing, which consisted of a 50 meter freefall. This was actually much scarier than any skydiving we did.
I was most intrigued about Livingstone itself. Through a random contact, we were going to visit a rural village. Expecting it to be some personal thing through this person we met, we went only to find it was a typical tour and a major tourist trap. They gave us a half-hour tour through this village of several thousand. We stopped in people’s homes and felt so awkward. They made sure to bring us by the area where a few people were making curios or crafts. The kicker came at the end when they brought us back to where they sell the crafts. About 50 men ran ahead of us to man their stations. I’ve never met salesmen with such aggressive techniques. Everyone says, “Can I ask you one question? Where from?” I’ll tell them the US and then they ask for your name to make it very personal. They’ll use your name nonstop, and then they offer to trade for different articles of clothing. After offering several things for something like socks, then they say, “Well how much money are you going to put on top of it?” They try to make you feel like you’re getting a good deal by trading as well. I felt so conflicted as a tourist by going and “gawking” at some village, but it was also one of their main techniques of making money by suckering us in to buy stuff. People all across the region used the same techniques. I want to support these guys, but its impossible to buy from more than a couple of them.
I actually got into a conversation with one vendor, and somehow he started being totally honest with me. He was young, about 23, and was looking to attend university soon. He described the different techniques vendors use and how they sucker you in by offering to trade, but really they don’t want the item. He also told me some real prices. He might by an item for Kw15000, try to sell it to older people for kw50000 ($12), but he acknowledges that students can’t afford as much so he’ll start offering around kw35000. He said that some people ask how much he wants for items, so he’ll give a price and they will offer more because they want to support him. This is rare, however. We eventually got off of the craft selling topic and had an amazing conversation.
We went to Sossusvlei a few weekends ago and it was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. That’s all I can do to describe it.
I suppose its time to mention Vic Falls even though it was a month ago. We spent a day homeless waiting in Otjiwarango for a bus. Naturally, we visited the crocodile farm to kill some time. Sadly, they were out of meat. Come 10pm, we loaded a bus and arrived in Zambia at 1pm the next day. We stayed at Jollyboys Backpackers in the town of Livingstone, which is about 20 minutes from the falls. One of the girls with us thought there was a huge fire because she thought she saw tons of smoke, but it was only the spray of the falls.
I visited the falls several times and it blew my mind. I can’t think of any place where you can get soaked with rain when it’s clear skies. Safety precautions are a little more lax than places in the US. We dipped our feet in the Zambezi about 8 meters above the falls. We also went on a 2 day canoe trip on the Zambezi. We wanted to go rafting but the water was ridiculously high. We also spent another day doing a gorge swing, which consisted of a 50 meter freefall. This was actually much scarier than any skydiving we did.
I was most intrigued about Livingstone itself. Through a random contact, we were going to visit a rural village. Expecting it to be some personal thing through this person we met, we went only to find it was a typical tour and a major tourist trap. They gave us a half-hour tour through this village of several thousand. We stopped in people’s homes and felt so awkward. They made sure to bring us by the area where a few people were making curios or crafts. The kicker came at the end when they brought us back to where they sell the crafts. About 50 men ran ahead of us to man their stations. I’ve never met salesmen with such aggressive techniques. Everyone says, “Can I ask you one question? Where from?” I’ll tell them the US and then they ask for your name to make it very personal. They’ll use your name nonstop, and then they offer to trade for different articles of clothing. After offering several things for something like socks, then they say, “Well how much money are you going to put on top of it?” They try to make you feel like you’re getting a good deal by trading as well. I felt so conflicted as a tourist by going and “gawking” at some village, but it was also one of their main techniques of making money by suckering us in to buy stuff. People all across the region used the same techniques. I want to support these guys, but its impossible to buy from more than a couple of them.
I actually got into a conversation with one vendor, and somehow he started being totally honest with me. He was young, about 23, and was looking to attend university soon. He described the different techniques vendors use and how they sucker you in by offering to trade, but really they don’t want the item. He also told me some real prices. He might by an item for Kw15000, try to sell it to older people for kw50000 ($12), but he acknowledges that students can’t afford as much so he’ll start offering around kw35000. He said that some people ask how much he wants for items, so he’ll give a price and they will offer more because they want to support him. This is rare, however. We eventually got off of the craft selling topic and had an amazing conversation.
We went to Sossusvlei a few weekends ago and it was the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. That’s all I can do to describe it.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Miss
We leave Namibia on Thursday. It's amazing to think how fast everything went. It was a pretty short semester of only 8 weeks of classes. When I leave Namibia, there's definitely some things I'll miss...
I'll miss the sounds of Afrikaans, Otjiherero, Oshiwambo, and especially good old Damara with all for of its different clicks. I'll miss saying Hoe gaan dit, kora, ongipe, metisa.
I'll miss the bumping beat of Kwaito music and the wild dancing Namibians do with it.
I'll miss the meat...the boerewors, goat, sheep, gemsbok, biltong, and beef. And I'll miss the wonders of the braai.
I'll miss the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. I didn't even know such colors existed.
I'll miss living in a city surrounded by mountains.
I'll miss walking over the hill to see downtown.
I'll miss not having and not needing a car. Nothing is better than taking a taxi anywhere in town for less than a dollar.
I'll miss weather that is never bad.
I'll miss random walks in Katatura.
I'll miss Mrs. H S Ball's Chutney.
I'll miss drinking the occasional omaere and oshikundu.
I'll miss seeing women walking the streets in traditional herero dress.
I'll miss the kapana of single quarter market. (beef that they grill right in front of you and pay N$1 per bite)
I'll miss cheap cool drink (means soda) in glass bottles.
I'll miss meeting random Europeans who volunteer and internship here.
I'll miss the kids at my volunteer place.
I'll miss my Namibian friends.
I'll miss my Namibian families.
However, I'm still excited to come home.
I'm excited to see friends and family.
I'm excited to sit by a lake.
I'm excited for Valpo's non-soggy, non-winter months. I'm excited to just walk the streets of Valpo in the fall and to stop by Ogden Gardens.
I'm excited for good burgers.
I'm excited for ice cold glasses of real milk.
Cape Town in 6 days.
I'll miss the sounds of Afrikaans, Otjiherero, Oshiwambo, and especially good old Damara with all for of its different clicks. I'll miss saying Hoe gaan dit, kora, ongipe, metisa.
I'll miss the bumping beat of Kwaito music and the wild dancing Namibians do with it.
I'll miss the meat...the boerewors, goat, sheep, gemsbok, biltong, and beef. And I'll miss the wonders of the braai.
I'll miss the most beautiful sunsets I've ever seen. I didn't even know such colors existed.
I'll miss living in a city surrounded by mountains.
I'll miss walking over the hill to see downtown.
I'll miss not having and not needing a car. Nothing is better than taking a taxi anywhere in town for less than a dollar.
I'll miss weather that is never bad.
I'll miss random walks in Katatura.
I'll miss Mrs. H S Ball's Chutney.
I'll miss drinking the occasional omaere and oshikundu.
I'll miss seeing women walking the streets in traditional herero dress.
I'll miss the kapana of single quarter market. (beef that they grill right in front of you and pay N$1 per bite)
I'll miss cheap cool drink (means soda) in glass bottles.
I'll miss meeting random Europeans who volunteer and internship here.
I'll miss the kids at my volunteer place.
I'll miss my Namibian friends.
I'll miss my Namibian families.
However, I'm still excited to come home.
I'm excited to see friends and family.
I'm excited to sit by a lake.
I'm excited for Valpo's non-soggy, non-winter months. I'm excited to just walk the streets of Valpo in the fall and to stop by Ogden Gardens.
I'm excited for good burgers.
I'm excited for ice cold glasses of real milk.
Cape Town in 6 days.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Simplicity
Our internet here hardly ever works anymore, so I have to walk 20 minutes and pay money to use the internet for a limited time. For now, however, we got some internet at our house.
Rural Homestay
This still goes back to mid-March, and is probably the hardest thing yet to put into words. We spent 6 days on a rural farm. My family consisted of Hiskia and Olga, 60 year olds who never went to school because schools didn’t exist for them during apartheid. Thus, they knew no English. Then I had 2 sisters in their 30s, who had Ok english. I also had two nieces who were 3 and 7—no English here. I had a brother that was 17 with minimal English. My main communication was with my two 30ish year old brothers, Daniel and Mulaka who had basically perfect English. I never actually figured out the family structure because everyone is has either a different mother or father. English was a funny thing because they learn it in school, starting around 3rd grade. Thus, young kids don’t know it and the old generation doesn’t speak it either. We did however learn some Otjiherero before going. Thus, every time I talked with my parents, it was basically the same conversation: Moro/Metaha/Hwenda. Ii Moro/Metaha/Hwenda. Kora? Nawa. Wa Penduka. Mba Penduka nawa. Okuhepa. Ena roye otjikwaye? Ena randje o Bret. Gare nawa.
I honestly do not know where to go from here. 7 others from CGE were in my community, but I rarely ran into them. Overall, our community had maybe a few hundred people and was all public grazing for the cattle and goats, however most of the ground was gravel.
We brought the cows to the water every morning. We’d simply sit. We traveled around on a donkey cart. We ate porridge with sour milk in every day. We went to bed around 9 when it got dark and awoke at 7 when it was light. We attended a Lutheran Church service which was under a tree and had no pastor. We traveled to neighboring communities to say what’s up and to check out all their water pumps. There we public and private ones. There were hand pumps, diesel pumps, and one solar panel powering a pump. We climbed the nearby mountain. We slept in the middle of the day because it was too hot to move. We’d fence the goats in at night. We drank Five Roses tea with cups of sugar. We’d bathe in a bucket (rather pleasant) and pee wherever. We collected grass by hand to feed the calves. We milked the cows. We played pool at the bar. We laid bricks on a new hostel for school children from surrounding areas. We turned the community water pump on and off. We tried to fix the pump’s leak.
Life consisted of the day at hand. It was refreshing to lay down any worries of the future and to only think about what I was doing in the next 5 minutes. That was all that mattered. As long as the goats and cows were taken care of, there was nothing else to it.
I mainly pulled away a general understanding of rural subsistence living. It wasn’t extreme poverty, but it was only a life of necessities. The only sources of entertainment were the radio and the one pool table in town. Yet, despite the simplicity of their lifestyle, I wouldn’t say that I’m necessarily better off. There was an amazing sense of community. Everyone was treated with respect. Their basic needs were met. Why do we insist on this need to be so developed and have the latest of everything? Yes, they would have liked luxuries such as electricity for refridgeration and a TV, but they still would cook over a fire because it is tradition. Refrigeration is necessary to preserve foods and a TV would be useful to stay in touch with the world, but lighting and refrigeration means more of an alcoholic bar scene and TV displays negative lifestyles that we could see seriously affected our urban families. Ideas towards sex and relationships are resembling those of soap operas.
So what really does it mean to have development?
Etosha
After our homestay, we headed to Etosha, which is the largest game park in Namibia. We went on a game drive for a day and saw a rhino, an elephant, giraffes, springbok, oryx, wildebeests, impala, hartebeest, baboons, ostriches, kudu, damara dik diks, and probably a few other things. It was a full day of driving around. I simply could not imagine coming to Africa to just go on a safari for a week. Animals are sweet, but driving around get a bit tiring.
Vic Falls
After Etosha, we went to Zambia and Vic Falls, but I don’t feel like discussing it now.
Luderitz
Last weekend, we headed South for a 10 hour kombi ride. The region is dominated by NAMDEB, which is a partnership between the Namibian government and Debeers diamonds. The region consists of lots of diamonds, and debeers basically has a monopoly on the mining because they’re the only ones with enough capital to do any mining. The most fascinating thing we learned while talking to a Debeers representative was the impact of the movie Blood Diamond. The rep described that diamond prices have gone down lately. We asked why, and he said because of the movie. Demand for diamonds have gone way down since people now believe all diamonds have a bloody origin. Debeers has had to spend millions on publicity to combat this idea. Blood diamonds don’t exist in Namibia, and are fairly minimal in the world. The movie, as well, is not very accurate. The rep’s final words were, “Buy diamonds because it puts food on the table for people.” This is true, because diamonds are a big part of the Namibian economy and many jobs come from them. I still don’t have much desire to spend bucket loads of money on some small rock, however.
Oh, and I’m doing Youthworks again this summer (what I did the last two summers on the reservations) and my training is in Birmingham. This means I’ll be in some south-eastern city this summer.
I should’ve been writing papers instead of typing this right now. Whatever. And for some reason, my website where I type this blog is now in French. I don’t know what’s going on with anything anymore.
Rural Homestay
This still goes back to mid-March, and is probably the hardest thing yet to put into words. We spent 6 days on a rural farm. My family consisted of Hiskia and Olga, 60 year olds who never went to school because schools didn’t exist for them during apartheid. Thus, they knew no English. Then I had 2 sisters in their 30s, who had Ok english. I also had two nieces who were 3 and 7—no English here. I had a brother that was 17 with minimal English. My main communication was with my two 30ish year old brothers, Daniel and Mulaka who had basically perfect English. I never actually figured out the family structure because everyone is has either a different mother or father. English was a funny thing because they learn it in school, starting around 3rd grade. Thus, young kids don’t know it and the old generation doesn’t speak it either. We did however learn some Otjiherero before going. Thus, every time I talked with my parents, it was basically the same conversation: Moro/Metaha/Hwenda. Ii Moro/Metaha/Hwenda. Kora? Nawa. Wa Penduka. Mba Penduka nawa. Okuhepa. Ena roye otjikwaye? Ena randje o Bret. Gare nawa.
I honestly do not know where to go from here. 7 others from CGE were in my community, but I rarely ran into them. Overall, our community had maybe a few hundred people and was all public grazing for the cattle and goats, however most of the ground was gravel.
We brought the cows to the water every morning. We’d simply sit. We traveled around on a donkey cart. We ate porridge with sour milk in every day. We went to bed around 9 when it got dark and awoke at 7 when it was light. We attended a Lutheran Church service which was under a tree and had no pastor. We traveled to neighboring communities to say what’s up and to check out all their water pumps. There we public and private ones. There were hand pumps, diesel pumps, and one solar panel powering a pump. We climbed the nearby mountain. We slept in the middle of the day because it was too hot to move. We’d fence the goats in at night. We drank Five Roses tea with cups of sugar. We’d bathe in a bucket (rather pleasant) and pee wherever. We collected grass by hand to feed the calves. We milked the cows. We played pool at the bar. We laid bricks on a new hostel for school children from surrounding areas. We turned the community water pump on and off. We tried to fix the pump’s leak.
Life consisted of the day at hand. It was refreshing to lay down any worries of the future and to only think about what I was doing in the next 5 minutes. That was all that mattered. As long as the goats and cows were taken care of, there was nothing else to it.
I mainly pulled away a general understanding of rural subsistence living. It wasn’t extreme poverty, but it was only a life of necessities. The only sources of entertainment were the radio and the one pool table in town. Yet, despite the simplicity of their lifestyle, I wouldn’t say that I’m necessarily better off. There was an amazing sense of community. Everyone was treated with respect. Their basic needs were met. Why do we insist on this need to be so developed and have the latest of everything? Yes, they would have liked luxuries such as electricity for refridgeration and a TV, but they still would cook over a fire because it is tradition. Refrigeration is necessary to preserve foods and a TV would be useful to stay in touch with the world, but lighting and refrigeration means more of an alcoholic bar scene and TV displays negative lifestyles that we could see seriously affected our urban families. Ideas towards sex and relationships are resembling those of soap operas.
So what really does it mean to have development?
Etosha
After our homestay, we headed to Etosha, which is the largest game park in Namibia. We went on a game drive for a day and saw a rhino, an elephant, giraffes, springbok, oryx, wildebeests, impala, hartebeest, baboons, ostriches, kudu, damara dik diks, and probably a few other things. It was a full day of driving around. I simply could not imagine coming to Africa to just go on a safari for a week. Animals are sweet, but driving around get a bit tiring.
Vic Falls
After Etosha, we went to Zambia and Vic Falls, but I don’t feel like discussing it now.
Luderitz
Last weekend, we headed South for a 10 hour kombi ride. The region is dominated by NAMDEB, which is a partnership between the Namibian government and Debeers diamonds. The region consists of lots of diamonds, and debeers basically has a monopoly on the mining because they’re the only ones with enough capital to do any mining. The most fascinating thing we learned while talking to a Debeers representative was the impact of the movie Blood Diamond. The rep described that diamond prices have gone down lately. We asked why, and he said because of the movie. Demand for diamonds have gone way down since people now believe all diamonds have a bloody origin. Debeers has had to spend millions on publicity to combat this idea. Blood diamonds don’t exist in Namibia, and are fairly minimal in the world. The movie, as well, is not very accurate. The rep’s final words were, “Buy diamonds because it puts food on the table for people.” This is true, because diamonds are a big part of the Namibian economy and many jobs come from them. I still don’t have much desire to spend bucket loads of money on some small rock, however.
Oh, and I’m doing Youthworks again this summer (what I did the last two summers on the reservations) and my training is in Birmingham. This means I’ll be in some south-eastern city this summer.
I should’ve been writing papers instead of typing this right now. Whatever. And for some reason, my website where I type this blog is now in French. I don’t know what’s going on with anything anymore.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Disparity
Going back a few weeks again...
We began our 3 week break by heading to Swakopmund with our group. One hour before reaching our destination, one of our combis blew a tire. We pulled over and never has popping a tire been so enjoyable. We were in the middle of the desert along a barren road. A water pipe supplying the mines with water ran alongside the road, so we had no other choice but to climb all up on it. It was a simple 20 minutes, but for some reason, it still sticks out in my mind. Life is all about attitude. Rarely do I know of people getting excited about a popped tire, but we were in the middle of a beautiful Namibian desert (it was evening, so it wasn't too hot) so why complain?
We spent a couple of days along the coast in Swakopmund (just so happens to be where Brad and Jen were, not that I care) and Walvis Bay. The highlight here was climbing Dune 7, the second tallest sand dune in the world. Micah and I raced to the top, but it was quite exhausting because with every step, we moved back halfway. The top of the dunes contained one of the most beautiful views I have ever experienced. I think after climbing many mountains out west, they all have their similarities, but to be on top of sand dunes was something entirely different.
The economic disparity here is what's really hard to deal with. Namibia has the highest disparity between the rich and poor in the world. In Swakopmund, beautiful mansions line the coast while 5 minutes away, across a 500 meter barren wasteland, is the DRC. The DRC is a settlement in which its only electric is for streetlights, everyone shares communal toilet, and residents need a special card to pay for water from communal pumps. Trash is dumped on the side of the road and houses are made with corrugated tin and tarps. I've grown accustomed to seeing people living in these situations all across Namibia. Originally when I started seeing poverty of this nature here (and when I first experienced it in the US on the Pine Ridge Reservation), it was natural to think along the lines of, "How can people live like this?" However, billions of people live in these situations and some of them make it work out well. All of them have dealt with their situations. One home in the DRC was just beautiful. Yes, it was made of corrugated tin, but it was full of artistic flair. I feel that when many Americans encounter this kind of poverty, they feel pity. Pity should not be the emotion because it automatically assumes that my life is so much better than theirs and that they are incapable of being happier than me. This may be the case with many people, but having the idea "oh, this is so sad that people live like this" is wrong. It takes away their humanity to objectify them like that. I do feel slight anger, however, because people shouldn't be forced to live in these situations when others don't. The great pains in Namibia come in seeing mansions five minutes away. There is no justice in a small minority of people living their lives full of luxury and the majority simply living to sustain themselves. I am one of these people of luxury, however, and we have similar circumstances in the US. I don't know where to draw the line of living for myself by enjoying some of my luxuries and of giving of my efforts and resources. For example, I struggled about deciding to travel to Victoria Falls. I could go, enjoy it there mostly for myself, or I could have went back to Windhoek, volunteered and donated the money I would have spent on Vic Falls. How much should I live for myself and how much, given my relatively affluent and "priveleged" background, should I give for others? I need to take care of myself and maintain a stable state of mind, but if I'm to truly follow Jesus like I say I do as a Christian, I'm not here to live my life for myself. I should be here as a servant towards others, putting myself last.
Yesterday in Religion class we visited the Desk for Social Development of the Lutheran Church in Nambia. Here we learned about a proposed Basic Income Grant for Namibia. It's aim is to fight poverty and HIV/AIDS by providing every Nambian citizen with the equivalent of US$15 per month. It doesn't matter whether you are rich or poor, you would receive this grant. However, the rich primarily would pay the taxes for it so the money would just go into their own paying of taxes. 62% of Namibians live below the World Bank poverty line of $1 per day. This would basically have the potential to take most people above this line and reduce the economic disparity in this country. By providing money to help them sustain themselves, poor unemployed people will be better equipped to put effort into looking for a job. I was so fascinated at this that I'm doing my final integrative project on it. Sure, you may complain that people will waste it on substances and that it is totally anti-capitalistic, but it will give the majority of people opportunity to get out of the cycle of poverty. It is unique too because it doesn't matter whether one is rich or poor, everyone receives it so it's not a pity vote. It also has huge support from the Council of Churches, the Namibian NGO Forum, and other big organizations as well as from members of parliament. A major hindrance to its taking effect is its rejection by the IMF and Namibia is not ballsy enough to go against international advice. The IMF mainly doesn't support it because they don't think it is economically feasible for Namibia, even though the IMF made incorrect calculations and the Church pointed out where this was. Interestingly, there isn't much strong opposition from the rich.
There are enough resources for everyone, but they are so unevenly distributed that many don't have access. Yeah, I like the initiative, and if you don't cuz you're rich, deal with it. We have no idea what it's like to pull ourselves out of poverty, and if we do, we're lucky because there's only a few limited spots for people to do it. If one poor person does it, it probably means that another who tried didn't because they were beaten out.
Wednesday, April 4, 2007
Catching up
Ok, so there's plenty that's happened in the last month as I already mentioned. I'm going to take it a little bit at a time, and probably update a few times in the upcoming days. We have this Friday and next Monday off for Easter and then we only have 2 days of classes next week because we take a class trip to another coastal town. It's amazing that I've only really been in Windhoek for about 5 weeks and I only have 4 weeks left. If there is one thing I don't like about this program, it's that we really only have 8 weeks in the community we live and even those weeks were split up by 3 weeks. It has made building relationships in the community difficult because it isn't until now that I've really built up good friendships and now we are past halfway.
Going back to beginning of March...
I had previously talked about my urban homestay. The complete stay was 10 days and I was sad but relieved to be finished with it. Despite the fact that I made the house my own, it was still draining always feeling like a guest. However, I mainly wanted to continue my homestay because I came here to spend time with Namibians. Coming back to the house put me back in community with mostly Americans. It was also interesting to become part of a family structure apart from my own. I also experienced this during my rural homestay (which I'll mention later), and in both cases, I eventual came to feel like I was a member of the family. I helped with the chores when they needed help. My urban hs parents talked about how they had to kick a nephew out of their house because he had no respect for helping out around the house. This caused me to feel pretty shitty about how little respect we have for our parents in the US. Here, if a parent asks you to do something, kids basically do it no questions asked. Seeing it here really makes me realize that it has nothing to do with whether I want to do it or not.
Way back when, we also visited parliament and met with the first prime minister of Namibia. This guy was intense, and was definitely a politician. He refused to admit any direct faults of his party and would play off things that they weren't as bad as people claim. It's difficult to challenge political authority in this country because one party, SWAPO, dominates the parliament and the executive branch. Despite corruption in SWAPO, people here still vote for them because SWAPO was the liberator from South Africa and apartheid. People vote on the allegiance rather than issues, but the prime minister admitted this will change with youth coming in to vote because they didn't experience apartheid. So much of politics here and in much of Africa relies on ethnic groups as well. This creates great difficulty in creating unity. ahh, to go into any of this would require a basic understanding of Namibia.
The weekend before we left for our 3 week break, I was killing time on Saturday morning when Courtney asked me if I wanted to attend a picnic with someone from her internship. I'm like, "sure," so we went and I met probably the most amazing and Godly person I have ever met, Taura. She comes from what we would consider a way underpriveleged and difficult childhood, and now she is a 23 year old working as a preschool teacher in mornings and volunteering daily at a youth center with little income to spare. She focuses her life on God and it shows. Everyone that met her couldn't help but say she was amazing as soon as she steps away. I know without a doubt that this comes from her deep Christian faith. I went to Katatura swimming pool on Sunday after she invited me to hang out with kids from the center. I was at the pool, feeling a bit awkward because there were probably 300 kids and I had no idea where to engage, when some kids challenged me to a swimming race. Proud to say a won by a nose, ha. But I started hanging out with some kids and they turned out just to be some local kids not with the center. It is amazing how engaging with people here doesn't matter whether you have connections.
I went to church in the afternoon and God just blew my mind. I was feeling kinda lost in where I'm supposed to go with my life (I've been thinking seriously about peace corps in the last few weeks) and how do I really live this Christian faith seriously. So I sat a prayed during worship about it. Before the sermon, the pastor then goes up and prays that God laid 3 things on his heart and the first is about a young man. He said the young man is questioning his calling and looking for God's presence and that God will make it clear. My heart jumped at this because he was describing me exactly. From a Lutheran background, this kind of prophetic voice is different from what I'm used to but it is still something I've been around my last two summers. Hardly has God spoken to me so directly and yet still I wonder. Taura later told me as we were writing a song that her heart went out to me when he mentioned this. Faith continues to be such an elusive thing to me because despite believing intellectually and wanting to follow on this level, my heart just can't seem to fully seek God. I know what sacrificing for following Jesus should be, but I struggle to pull it to my context.
So yeah, I'll talk about yesterday while it's still fresh. I finally had the opportunity to volunteer. I was going to volunteer with this Young Life-type of organization, so I went on Monday and he basically said there was nothing for me to do. Since this didn't work out, I had another lead on volunteering with the BNC youth center. So I gave Taura a call and asked her where the youth center she volunteers at is. Instead of giving me directions, she quickly says, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 1:30." I still can't get over the heart of this woman because he had to take an extra taxi to come get me. Then she pays for my taxi. Mind you that this is someone that makes N$600 per month and a taxi is N$6.50 per person. So I go to the center where at least 100 kids were running around. Their max is 250. Somehow there is order despite only having about 6 volunteers who are mainly Germans. I'm feeling lost with so many kids running around until Mary Beth, an American woman who runs the center, greets me quickly and asks if I'll help some kids out on the computers. I ended up spending 2 hours helping kids load random games onto 7 different computers. Magic School Bus was the favorite. It was funny because they lock the only gated door to the computer room for crowd control. After the two hours, I went outside where Taura was playing guitar with the kids. All of the kids were singing along to songs that she had written. While sitting around singing with a handful of kids, Elizabeth, comes and just sits on my leg. She is a 5 year old with a dirty face, she had a constant tear out of one eye, and the tiniest little cough. I didn't need to do anything but just sit there and hold her in my lap and my arms. For all I know, she could have had AIDS or TB, but that didn't matter for the five minutes while I showing her love by simply sitting with her. I had to leave, but the image of the girl has yet to leave my mind today, picturing her holding up her hands to reach around me. The 2 hours in the computer room was fine, but these 5 minutes are making me die to go back.
And sure enough, I left with Taura and when I challenged her that I'll pay for the taxi home, she tells me firmly, "Accept the blessings you receive." And then she made me watch her buy me a fanta. Now that I think about it, she spent 3% of her monthly salary on me for these couple things. God is truly alive.
and for you aunts and uncles that always care and are making assumptions... No, romance is not in the air.
Going back to beginning of March...
I had previously talked about my urban homestay. The complete stay was 10 days and I was sad but relieved to be finished with it. Despite the fact that I made the house my own, it was still draining always feeling like a guest. However, I mainly wanted to continue my homestay because I came here to spend time with Namibians. Coming back to the house put me back in community with mostly Americans. It was also interesting to become part of a family structure apart from my own. I also experienced this during my rural homestay (which I'll mention later), and in both cases, I eventual came to feel like I was a member of the family. I helped with the chores when they needed help. My urban hs parents talked about how they had to kick a nephew out of their house because he had no respect for helping out around the house. This caused me to feel pretty shitty about how little respect we have for our parents in the US. Here, if a parent asks you to do something, kids basically do it no questions asked. Seeing it here really makes me realize that it has nothing to do with whether I want to do it or not.
Way back when, we also visited parliament and met with the first prime minister of Namibia. This guy was intense, and was definitely a politician. He refused to admit any direct faults of his party and would play off things that they weren't as bad as people claim. It's difficult to challenge political authority in this country because one party, SWAPO, dominates the parliament and the executive branch. Despite corruption in SWAPO, people here still vote for them because SWAPO was the liberator from South Africa and apartheid. People vote on the allegiance rather than issues, but the prime minister admitted this will change with youth coming in to vote because they didn't experience apartheid. So much of politics here and in much of Africa relies on ethnic groups as well. This creates great difficulty in creating unity. ahh, to go into any of this would require a basic understanding of Namibia.
The weekend before we left for our 3 week break, I was killing time on Saturday morning when Courtney asked me if I wanted to attend a picnic with someone from her internship. I'm like, "sure," so we went and I met probably the most amazing and Godly person I have ever met, Taura. She comes from what we would consider a way underpriveleged and difficult childhood, and now she is a 23 year old working as a preschool teacher in mornings and volunteering daily at a youth center with little income to spare. She focuses her life on God and it shows. Everyone that met her couldn't help but say she was amazing as soon as she steps away. I know without a doubt that this comes from her deep Christian faith. I went to Katatura swimming pool on Sunday after she invited me to hang out with kids from the center. I was at the pool, feeling a bit awkward because there were probably 300 kids and I had no idea where to engage, when some kids challenged me to a swimming race. Proud to say a won by a nose, ha. But I started hanging out with some kids and they turned out just to be some local kids not with the center. It is amazing how engaging with people here doesn't matter whether you have connections.
I went to church in the afternoon and God just blew my mind. I was feeling kinda lost in where I'm supposed to go with my life (I've been thinking seriously about peace corps in the last few weeks) and how do I really live this Christian faith seriously. So I sat a prayed during worship about it. Before the sermon, the pastor then goes up and prays that God laid 3 things on his heart and the first is about a young man. He said the young man is questioning his calling and looking for God's presence and that God will make it clear. My heart jumped at this because he was describing me exactly. From a Lutheran background, this kind of prophetic voice is different from what I'm used to but it is still something I've been around my last two summers. Hardly has God spoken to me so directly and yet still I wonder. Taura later told me as we were writing a song that her heart went out to me when he mentioned this. Faith continues to be such an elusive thing to me because despite believing intellectually and wanting to follow on this level, my heart just can't seem to fully seek God. I know what sacrificing for following Jesus should be, but I struggle to pull it to my context.
So yeah, I'll talk about yesterday while it's still fresh. I finally had the opportunity to volunteer. I was going to volunteer with this Young Life-type of organization, so I went on Monday and he basically said there was nothing for me to do. Since this didn't work out, I had another lead on volunteering with the BNC youth center. So I gave Taura a call and asked her where the youth center she volunteers at is. Instead of giving me directions, she quickly says, "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 1:30." I still can't get over the heart of this woman because he had to take an extra taxi to come get me. Then she pays for my taxi. Mind you that this is someone that makes N$600 per month and a taxi is N$6.50 per person. So I go to the center where at least 100 kids were running around. Their max is 250. Somehow there is order despite only having about 6 volunteers who are mainly Germans. I'm feeling lost with so many kids running around until Mary Beth, an American woman who runs the center, greets me quickly and asks if I'll help some kids out on the computers. I ended up spending 2 hours helping kids load random games onto 7 different computers. Magic School Bus was the favorite. It was funny because they lock the only gated door to the computer room for crowd control. After the two hours, I went outside where Taura was playing guitar with the kids. All of the kids were singing along to songs that she had written. While sitting around singing with a handful of kids, Elizabeth, comes and just sits on my leg. She is a 5 year old with a dirty face, she had a constant tear out of one eye, and the tiniest little cough. I didn't need to do anything but just sit there and hold her in my lap and my arms. For all I know, she could have had AIDS or TB, but that didn't matter for the five minutes while I showing her love by simply sitting with her. I had to leave, but the image of the girl has yet to leave my mind today, picturing her holding up her hands to reach around me. The 2 hours in the computer room was fine, but these 5 minutes are making me die to go back.
And sure enough, I left with Taura and when I challenged her that I'll pay for the taxi home, she tells me firmly, "Accept the blessings you receive." And then she made me watch her buy me a fanta. Now that I think about it, she spent 3% of her monthly salary on me for these couple things. God is truly alive.
and for you aunts and uncles that always care and are making assumptions... No, romance is not in the air.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Plenty
I gotta keep this short or else I need to pay another 3000 Kwatcha. I became a millionare 2 days ago. Right now I am in Zambia at Victoria falls. They are unbelievable. The past few weeks have been beyond description. I went skydiving above the Namib Desert, swam in the ocean, lived on a rural farm with no electricity and water for 6 days, went on a game drive, and yesterday I got soaked from Vic Falls. Welp, I'm gonna run now...I'll be back in a week to fully update. Just wanted to say I'm doing well, mom.
Monday, March 5, 2007
Boycotting Wal-Mart? questionable
Here’s another post…
This is a basic overview, so it’s not too detailed and maybe a bit confusing.
On Thursday, for Development class, we visited Ramatex. Ramatex is a Malaysian textile company that has a factory location in Namibia. Their location in Namibia is in order to take advantage of AGOA, a trade agreement between African countries and the US. Thus, the Namibia location exports solely to the US and makes brands for about 10 stores including K-Mart and I believe Wal-Mart. We never got a list of the retailers.
Namibia beat out South Africa and Madagascar five years ago for the location of an African factory. The Namibian government paid for the building of the facilities, subsidizes water and electricity, and does not make Ramatex pay taxes. In return, the original agreement stated that Ramatex would provide 8,000 jobs and then indirect jobs would hopefully come out of their presence.
Ramatex never ended up employing that many Namibians. They brought in a couple thousand Chinese migrant workers supposedly to help train in the Namibians. After a strike a couple years ago, hundreds got fired. Since then, Ramatex has downsized and only employs 3,000 Namibian jobs now. Workers were originally paid N$3 per hour (about 50 cents), but now they receive N$4.10. With that wage, workers have to work overtime to afford housing and basic food. Workers complain of harassment from supervision, they have to walk long distances to work and they don’t feel safe on the walk home, they receive one break for lunch, and they are strategically divided by race as a divide-and-rule theory. It creates tensions and racism within the factory.
Ramatex dumps its chemical waste in a small “pool” out back, which is has cracked cement casing. When it rains hard, chemicals run over. After one year of its presence, all of the fish in a dam nearby were dead.
Government refuses to challenge Ramatex and even tries to prevent striking because Ramatex threatens to leave and go abroad to a country where they can run for cheaper. Namibia needs jobs, so Ramatex can get away with all of its crap.
Our actual visit to the factory was interesting. I suppose you might say it is a sweatshop, but not quite as extreme. The director showed us around. He was rather subversive when answering our questions. They specifically said “Ramatex is a business, not a charity,” but where is the line going to be drawn. 60% of their expenses are materials. Only 15% is labor wages. This seems rather small when you are employing thousands, when you make clothes (materials are not the cost of diamonds or anything), and when zero taxes and facility fees are being paid for. Lunches were locked in cages that were divided by ethnicity.
After our visit, we met with a member of a labor rights group that has investigated Ramatex. He explained much of what I already mentioned. When asked what the average consumer can do, he said boycotting on an individual basis isn’t going to accomplish anything. The only way Ramatex can be pressured so that it won’t skip countries is through pressure from buyers such as K-Mart. The only effective way to pressure the buyers is through cooperation and lobbying among consumers and the workers. There must be communication and coordination to effectively make the buyers listen.
I’m not satisfied with my explanation here; it’s a bit inadequate and not well-articulated, but I hope you get the point. I’m off to type several papers that are due in the next week. One week from today, we head to Swakopmund on the coast, then to rural homestays, to etosha game park, and I’m planning on heading to Victoria Falls. I’ll give you the low down on the rest of my urban homestay which I just finished at another time.
This is a basic overview, so it’s not too detailed and maybe a bit confusing.
On Thursday, for Development class, we visited Ramatex. Ramatex is a Malaysian textile company that has a factory location in Namibia. Their location in Namibia is in order to take advantage of AGOA, a trade agreement between African countries and the US. Thus, the Namibia location exports solely to the US and makes brands for about 10 stores including K-Mart and I believe Wal-Mart. We never got a list of the retailers.
Namibia beat out South Africa and Madagascar five years ago for the location of an African factory. The Namibian government paid for the building of the facilities, subsidizes water and electricity, and does not make Ramatex pay taxes. In return, the original agreement stated that Ramatex would provide 8,000 jobs and then indirect jobs would hopefully come out of their presence.
Ramatex never ended up employing that many Namibians. They brought in a couple thousand Chinese migrant workers supposedly to help train in the Namibians. After a strike a couple years ago, hundreds got fired. Since then, Ramatex has downsized and only employs 3,000 Namibian jobs now. Workers were originally paid N$3 per hour (about 50 cents), but now they receive N$4.10. With that wage, workers have to work overtime to afford housing and basic food. Workers complain of harassment from supervision, they have to walk long distances to work and they don’t feel safe on the walk home, they receive one break for lunch, and they are strategically divided by race as a divide-and-rule theory. It creates tensions and racism within the factory.
Ramatex dumps its chemical waste in a small “pool” out back, which is has cracked cement casing. When it rains hard, chemicals run over. After one year of its presence, all of the fish in a dam nearby were dead.
Government refuses to challenge Ramatex and even tries to prevent striking because Ramatex threatens to leave and go abroad to a country where they can run for cheaper. Namibia needs jobs, so Ramatex can get away with all of its crap.
Our actual visit to the factory was interesting. I suppose you might say it is a sweatshop, but not quite as extreme. The director showed us around. He was rather subversive when answering our questions. They specifically said “Ramatex is a business, not a charity,” but where is the line going to be drawn. 60% of their expenses are materials. Only 15% is labor wages. This seems rather small when you are employing thousands, when you make clothes (materials are not the cost of diamonds or anything), and when zero taxes and facility fees are being paid for. Lunches were locked in cages that were divided by ethnicity.
After our visit, we met with a member of a labor rights group that has investigated Ramatex. He explained much of what I already mentioned. When asked what the average consumer can do, he said boycotting on an individual basis isn’t going to accomplish anything. The only way Ramatex can be pressured so that it won’t skip countries is through pressure from buyers such as K-Mart. The only effective way to pressure the buyers is through cooperation and lobbying among consumers and the workers. There must be communication and coordination to effectively make the buyers listen.
I’m not satisfied with my explanation here; it’s a bit inadequate and not well-articulated, but I hope you get the point. I’m off to type several papers that are due in the next week. One week from today, we head to Swakopmund on the coast, then to rural homestays, to etosha game park, and I’m planning on heading to Victoria Falls. I’ll give you the low down on the rest of my urban homestay which I just finished at another time.
Perspectives
This is a reflection I just wrote about a night during our first week in South Africa. I thought I'd share...
While killing time before dinner in Pretoria, about half of us from the CGE group were wandering the University of Pretoria campus. We were on campus looking for rumored floats that were being built. Only seeing a couple floats, Micah and I approached two white ladies to ask if any more were being built. The four of us got into a conversation, and Micah and I ended up following them to help build a float with their hostel. This prompted a night spent hanging out with a group of Afrikaners. It provided an entirely different perspective to the aftermath of apartheid, since we previously only heard in person the black perspective to it all.
The mere turn of events was a lesson within itself. As we met new people, we would not have been accepted in the same way if Micah and I were not white Americans. Our identity as Americans made us popular because everyone wanted to know about the US. Being from the US comes with a great amount of privilege because these people wanted to know about the country where much of their media comes from and about us since we basically run the world. We were ambassadors of the US to them.
Some of the people we met would not have wanted to talk to us if we were black. Despite a few of the Afrikaners thinking racism and apartheid was rubbish, some of them were blatantly racist and some claimed not to be racist, although they still did not have uplifting opinions about blacks. Urbanus later told us that it was not safe for Passat, Moeketsi, and him (as blacks) to be where we were because the Afrikaners have some of their old nationalism come out in them in big groups.
Our most interesting experience came from talking with Werner and Werner, who were blatant racists. Despite their negative opinions of blacks, I could not help but sympathize with some of their worries. We had only heard the black perspective so far, which does not resound with the white perspective, positive or negative. One of the Werners comes from a farm, which funds his college education. Potential land redistribution would leave him with nothing and no money for his education. One week before we talked to him, one of his cows was slaughtered overnight by a black intruder and only a small fraction of the cow was taken, leaving the rest of the meat to rot. His situation did not sound very positive, and he claimed he was ready to take up arms against blacks because he believes a civil war is coming. While I could not agree with much of what he said, I challenged him that it was only an individual that killed his cow. He responded that there are good black people, but they are very rare. He used crime, poverty, and the AIDS situation to justify his belief. This discussion led me to realize just how hard it will be to decolonize the mind of people like him. He is not able to take an objective stance on racial issues. With his own welfare on the line, his defensiveness will make it nearly impossible for him to change his racist beliefs.
While killing time before dinner in Pretoria, about half of us from the CGE group were wandering the University of Pretoria campus. We were on campus looking for rumored floats that were being built. Only seeing a couple floats, Micah and I approached two white ladies to ask if any more were being built. The four of us got into a conversation, and Micah and I ended up following them to help build a float with their hostel. This prompted a night spent hanging out with a group of Afrikaners. It provided an entirely different perspective to the aftermath of apartheid, since we previously only heard in person the black perspective to it all.
The mere turn of events was a lesson within itself. As we met new people, we would not have been accepted in the same way if Micah and I were not white Americans. Our identity as Americans made us popular because everyone wanted to know about the US. Being from the US comes with a great amount of privilege because these people wanted to know about the country where much of their media comes from and about us since we basically run the world. We were ambassadors of the US to them.
Some of the people we met would not have wanted to talk to us if we were black. Despite a few of the Afrikaners thinking racism and apartheid was rubbish, some of them were blatantly racist and some claimed not to be racist, although they still did not have uplifting opinions about blacks. Urbanus later told us that it was not safe for Passat, Moeketsi, and him (as blacks) to be where we were because the Afrikaners have some of their old nationalism come out in them in big groups.
Our most interesting experience came from talking with Werner and Werner, who were blatant racists. Despite their negative opinions of blacks, I could not help but sympathize with some of their worries. We had only heard the black perspective so far, which does not resound with the white perspective, positive or negative. One of the Werners comes from a farm, which funds his college education. Potential land redistribution would leave him with nothing and no money for his education. One week before we talked to him, one of his cows was slaughtered overnight by a black intruder and only a small fraction of the cow was taken, leaving the rest of the meat to rot. His situation did not sound very positive, and he claimed he was ready to take up arms against blacks because he believes a civil war is coming. While I could not agree with much of what he said, I challenged him that it was only an individual that killed his cow. He responded that there are good black people, but they are very rare. He used crime, poverty, and the AIDS situation to justify his belief. This discussion led me to realize just how hard it will be to decolonize the mind of people like him. He is not able to take an objective stance on racial issues. With his own welfare on the line, his defensiveness will make it nearly impossible for him to change his racist beliefs.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Staying Home
I’m currently half-way through my urban homestay. I am staying with a fantastic and loving family. My host dad owns a butchery. My host mom works for Alexander Forbes. Llewelyn, my 23 year old host brother, is in his last year of university at College of the Arts primarily studying graphic design. Finally, I have an 11 year old sister, Marilize, who is in school. They are a coloured family, which means they are in between black and white. If I brought them to the US, people would probably think they are Hispanic. This bothers me because I know people would make totally irrational assumptions about them just from how they look.
The homestay started last Thursday and extends through this coming Sunday. During the week, we go to the CGE house and have class like usual and we spend the afternoons there too. The rest of my time is spent with my family. Most of the time around the house is spent sitting around watching TV, playing pool, or just killing time. Much of the culture here is spent around the television. It seems like everyone’s homestay mostly consists of watching TV with the family. People make sure to catch their favorite ‘soaps’ every night. Some of the TV my family watches is in Afrikaans or is South African. Otherwise, most of the programs and movies are American.
The biggest foreign influence in average life here is without a doubt American pop culture. Music, TV, and movies dominate people’s existence. I find it backwards that there is more of an effect from this here than what I’ve found in the US. Sarah, our Namibian cook at the house, believes much of the attitude about relationships and treatment of men/women/cheating comes from TV shows. This is a whole different dynamic that I’ll discuss later. In South Africa, some Afrikaners asked me if I’ve ever had Dr. Pepper (it doesn’t exist here…it’s all coke and fanta). They wanted to know because they have seen it in the movies, but they’ve never had it. Trying to explain what Dr. Pepper tastes like is not an easy task either.
On the other side of pop culture, I spent much of this past weekend feeling like I was in high school. Llewelyn, Marilize, and the 10th grade cousin, ‘Naldo,’ and I cruised around in Lew’s VW golf running some errands. We definitely bumped loud American hip hop for hours as we drove around. It was interesting/disturbing hearing 11 year old Marilize sing along to “I wanna Fuck you” again and again. Yet all 3 of my compradres are pretty straight-shooting. As I played hide-and-seek with some local youngsters Friday night, three drunk 16 year olds interrupted our game, to which Naldo claimed that alcohol is the worst thing for Namibian teens today. He stays away from it himself. I might contend that teen pregnancy or AIDS is quite the issue here, but I suppose alcohol contributes to those issues.
After talking to my host dad about some political issues and health care on Friday evening, he proceeded to ask me if I had been to the public hospital (my family pays for a private clinic). Upon saying no, we were driving our way towards Katatura Hospital at 9:30pm on a Friday night. He made sure to drive by the shebeens (informal bars) along the way to point out all the people starting to get drunk on the streets already. When we arrived at the hospital, one gentleman was at reception with a nasty bloodied skull. He stumbled around, clearly wasted. I’m guessing he received a bottle to the head. My host father had me take a seat to be a spectator. He told me, “Just watch.” We watched for five minutes and saw a young teen come in with a large puncture wound in the back. Stabbing? I don’t know. After my host father seemed to get bored with the inactivity, we wandered to the ER and saw an informal mess of people in a big room on beds partially behind curtains. The whole experience made me uneasy to go and observe all the new incoming injuries, but I saw my host father’s point. He said that by 11pm, the place would be loaded with people that have drunken injuries from fights, knives, or what have you. The hospital itself was not an inviting or comfortable place.
Alcohol definitely is an issue here in Namibia/South Africa. Maybe I’ll touch on this and AIDS in a later post since this one is getting fairly long.
My host dad owns a butchery, so I’ve had plenty of meat. There’s a good supply of biltong (basically jerky, made from beef). After Friday’s meal of KFC (basically the only American fast food here), we had a braai (barbeque) for Saturday’s dinner. It consisted of goat rump, goat steaks, boerewors (a delicious sausage), puffadder (a beef sausage with meat and liver), and kabobs. Sunday allowed for an exciting meal. By noon, I was eating a sheep’s foot, some sheep stomach, ox tail (the tail of a cow), and for dinner we topped it off with the sheep’s head. I got a nice slice of skin and fat off the top of the skull and waited my turn while Marilize scooped brain out of a small hole where the spinal cord was and ate the brain like cereal. I got several bites of the brain as well. Surprisingly, none of it was that bad. He had some good spices in the pot. The stomach was a bit chewy, the feet were delicious but all skin and fat and tendon, the tail was extremely tender but pretty fatty, the skull skin had a gross texture, and the brain was a bit mushy. It all pretty much tasted like eating some beef fat. These are all very cultural foods of Africa. Please note that I’m eating them in a very nice middle-class home in the city.
A quick note about the house, my dad bought it 5 years ago for about N$170,000 and now it is worth N$650,000 (divide by 7 for US$). And we thought real estate was going up in the US.
My host dad also woke me up at 5:45am to take me to the place where he buys his meat. About 20 black workers were in an assembly line. The first guy chopped off the head of a live sheep. Then they hung it up to skin it, gut it, and rinse it. It was an efficient process run by a white guy.
The homestay started last Thursday and extends through this coming Sunday. During the week, we go to the CGE house and have class like usual and we spend the afternoons there too. The rest of my time is spent with my family. Most of the time around the house is spent sitting around watching TV, playing pool, or just killing time. Much of the culture here is spent around the television. It seems like everyone’s homestay mostly consists of watching TV with the family. People make sure to catch their favorite ‘soaps’ every night. Some of the TV my family watches is in Afrikaans or is South African. Otherwise, most of the programs and movies are American.
The biggest foreign influence in average life here is without a doubt American pop culture. Music, TV, and movies dominate people’s existence. I find it backwards that there is more of an effect from this here than what I’ve found in the US. Sarah, our Namibian cook at the house, believes much of the attitude about relationships and treatment of men/women/cheating comes from TV shows. This is a whole different dynamic that I’ll discuss later. In South Africa, some Afrikaners asked me if I’ve ever had Dr. Pepper (it doesn’t exist here…it’s all coke and fanta). They wanted to know because they have seen it in the movies, but they’ve never had it. Trying to explain what Dr. Pepper tastes like is not an easy task either.
On the other side of pop culture, I spent much of this past weekend feeling like I was in high school. Llewelyn, Marilize, and the 10th grade cousin, ‘Naldo,’ and I cruised around in Lew’s VW golf running some errands. We definitely bumped loud American hip hop for hours as we drove around. It was interesting/disturbing hearing 11 year old Marilize sing along to “I wanna Fuck you” again and again. Yet all 3 of my compradres are pretty straight-shooting. As I played hide-and-seek with some local youngsters Friday night, three drunk 16 year olds interrupted our game, to which Naldo claimed that alcohol is the worst thing for Namibian teens today. He stays away from it himself. I might contend that teen pregnancy or AIDS is quite the issue here, but I suppose alcohol contributes to those issues.
After talking to my host dad about some political issues and health care on Friday evening, he proceeded to ask me if I had been to the public hospital (my family pays for a private clinic). Upon saying no, we were driving our way towards Katatura Hospital at 9:30pm on a Friday night. He made sure to drive by the shebeens (informal bars) along the way to point out all the people starting to get drunk on the streets already. When we arrived at the hospital, one gentleman was at reception with a nasty bloodied skull. He stumbled around, clearly wasted. I’m guessing he received a bottle to the head. My host father had me take a seat to be a spectator. He told me, “Just watch.” We watched for five minutes and saw a young teen come in with a large puncture wound in the back. Stabbing? I don’t know. After my host father seemed to get bored with the inactivity, we wandered to the ER and saw an informal mess of people in a big room on beds partially behind curtains. The whole experience made me uneasy to go and observe all the new incoming injuries, but I saw my host father’s point. He said that by 11pm, the place would be loaded with people that have drunken injuries from fights, knives, or what have you. The hospital itself was not an inviting or comfortable place.
Alcohol definitely is an issue here in Namibia/South Africa. Maybe I’ll touch on this and AIDS in a later post since this one is getting fairly long.
My host dad owns a butchery, so I’ve had plenty of meat. There’s a good supply of biltong (basically jerky, made from beef). After Friday’s meal of KFC (basically the only American fast food here), we had a braai (barbeque) for Saturday’s dinner. It consisted of goat rump, goat steaks, boerewors (a delicious sausage), puffadder (a beef sausage with meat and liver), and kabobs. Sunday allowed for an exciting meal. By noon, I was eating a sheep’s foot, some sheep stomach, ox tail (the tail of a cow), and for dinner we topped it off with the sheep’s head. I got a nice slice of skin and fat off the top of the skull and waited my turn while Marilize scooped brain out of a small hole where the spinal cord was and ate the brain like cereal. I got several bites of the brain as well. Surprisingly, none of it was that bad. He had some good spices in the pot. The stomach was a bit chewy, the feet were delicious but all skin and fat and tendon, the tail was extremely tender but pretty fatty, the skull skin had a gross texture, and the brain was a bit mushy. It all pretty much tasted like eating some beef fat. These are all very cultural foods of Africa. Please note that I’m eating them in a very nice middle-class home in the city.
A quick note about the house, my dad bought it 5 years ago for about N$170,000 and now it is worth N$650,000 (divide by 7 for US$). And we thought real estate was going up in the US.
My host dad also woke me up at 5:45am to take me to the place where he buys his meat. About 20 black workers were in an assembly line. The first guy chopped off the head of a live sheep. Then they hung it up to skin it, gut it, and rinse it. It was an efficient process run by a white guy.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Not too much
On Tuesday in our History class, we had Prof Kerina visit us. He was a Namibian lucky enough to study at a University in the US. He came up with the name "Namibia," cofounded the ruling political party, and was friends with the like of MLK, Malcom X, Maya Angelou, JFK, and such. It was pretty incredible to hear his story and to have the opportunity to hear from him in our class.
I talked to a guy from the Scripture Union today, which sounds like a Namibian "young life." I've been waiting a couple weeks for a volunteer opportunity, and this thing sounds sweet. They go into schools and teach life skills after the schoolday. I visit the office tomorrow, so I'll let you know what becomes of it. We also start our 10 day urban homestay tomorrow. I will be staying with a family in which the parents work for a financial company and a butchery, and I will have a 23 year old brother and an 11 year old sister. Their home is in Khomasdal, which is kind of like the colored neighborhood from apartheid. Colored refers to those whom are partially black and white. Thus, this neighborhood is slightly better off than Katatura, the black township from apartheid. By the way, Namibia used to be South West Africa until 1990. Before then, it was governed by South Africa and so it also underwent apartheid.
Mainly, I thought I'd post a few pics in this post since I didn't get around to it in the bottom of the last one...
the first pick is my homestay family from Soweto in South Africa. There's me, Malume (Uncle, as he called himself), Yoliswa, and Nontjatjambo.
The second pic is from last weekend on the farm.
Despite what these pictures and some of my writing might represent, we are in a very urban setting in Windhoek. We are a 10 minute walk from downtown, live in an posh neighbourhood, and it would take us at least a 10 minute drive to get out of the city. I'm sorry that there are no lions that I will get eaten by here.
I talked to a guy from the Scripture Union today, which sounds like a Namibian "young life." I've been waiting a couple weeks for a volunteer opportunity, and this thing sounds sweet. They go into schools and teach life skills after the schoolday. I visit the office tomorrow, so I'll let you know what becomes of it. We also start our 10 day urban homestay tomorrow. I will be staying with a family in which the parents work for a financial company and a butchery, and I will have a 23 year old brother and an 11 year old sister. Their home is in Khomasdal, which is kind of like the colored neighborhood from apartheid. Colored refers to those whom are partially black and white. Thus, this neighborhood is slightly better off than Katatura, the black township from apartheid. By the way, Namibia used to be South West Africa until 1990. Before then, it was governed by South Africa and so it also underwent apartheid.
Mainly, I thought I'd post a few pics in this post since I didn't get around to it in the bottom of the last one...
the first pick is my homestay family from Soweto in South Africa. There's me, Malume (Uncle, as he called himself), Yoliswa, and Nontjatjambo.
The second pic is from last weekend on the farm.
Despite what these pictures and some of my writing might represent, we are in a very urban setting in Windhoek. We are a 10 minute walk from downtown, live in an posh neighbourhood, and it would take us at least a 10 minute drive to get out of the city. I'm sorry that there are no lions that I will get eaten by here.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Castration
We started class on Tuesday. Tuesday morning's class is history of Namibia/SA, Wednesday's is Religion and Social Change, Thursday's is Politics of Namibia/SA, and Friday is development. Each class lasts from 9am-1pm, so the mornings are pretty long. For a study abroad experience, this program is very academic compared to what other people I know have done elsewhere. I don't mind.
Anyways, this weekend was the exciting part of this week. Yesterday, two friends and I were picked up at 6am and taken to a farm 2 hours to the north. Micah met a guy named Papyeni, who is a friend of a friend, so he offered us to come up with him and his mother to help out for the weekend. The farm had no electricity, but it was not an issue. The house was very informal looking, was basically all concrete, and the neighboring stuctures were shacks that a few people live in. Yet in no way do I feel like their situation is rougher than mine. Instead it makes me realize that we have way too much crap in our homes. I simply can't justify spending hundreds or thousands of dollars simply to make our homes "look" better when it serves no functional purpose. This isn't a new thought for me, but being here puts more reason behind this idea. This farmhome had the essentials and it was not weighed down with unnecessary junk.
Enough of that short rant...We spent yesterday and today doing farmwork in the morning until 2pm. Yesterday, we had to chase goats and grab them by the horns to vaccinate 100 of them. Then we herded cattle to vaccinate about 100 cows. This morning we lifted the poopy tails of the cows and painted oil around their tick-infested anuses in order to kill the ticks. I also had the opportunity to castrate a few young males...Interesting.
After working, we'd enjoy some food cooked in a pot over an outdoor fire. It was food like home except for dinner we had traditional pap with a local spinach type of food. Today we tried sour milk. It's milk that never gets refridgerated, thus it ferments and becomes quite chunky and sour. It's a different milk and is a different sour than letting your gallon sit in the fridge for an extra week. This stuff wasn't too bad, but I'm not going to ask for it again.
Yesterday, a few of us sat around a circle in some lawn chairs. Conversation was slow-paced and there was probably a 15 minute period of silence in which we all just looked around, but it was comfortable in my opinion (Erin might disagree). Only 1 of the 5 people around the farm knew english fluently, so that made for a slower pace of convo. Later in the evening, we played dominos for over 2 hours by candlelight (the actual game, not the lining them up and tipping them over). It was great to be able to join in a game and laugh together even though we couldn't communicate verbally. The three of us sucked at first...we weren't even playing right. It wasn't until Papyeni came over and explained the rules correctly to us in english that we caught on.
As I'm righting this, I'm realizing that there is no effective way to communicate what I'm experiencing. So I've decided the best I can do is to describe the events as they happen and maybe explain some of the things I'm learning along the way. I also don't really care that half of these sentences in this blog are overly wordy and maybe unclear. meh
oh, and we saw a cheetah crossing the road when we left the farm today. coolness.
some pics
Anyways, this weekend was the exciting part of this week. Yesterday, two friends and I were picked up at 6am and taken to a farm 2 hours to the north. Micah met a guy named Papyeni, who is a friend of a friend, so he offered us to come up with him and his mother to help out for the weekend. The farm had no electricity, but it was not an issue. The house was very informal looking, was basically all concrete, and the neighboring stuctures were shacks that a few people live in. Yet in no way do I feel like their situation is rougher than mine. Instead it makes me realize that we have way too much crap in our homes. I simply can't justify spending hundreds or thousands of dollars simply to make our homes "look" better when it serves no functional purpose. This isn't a new thought for me, but being here puts more reason behind this idea. This farmhome had the essentials and it was not weighed down with unnecessary junk.
Enough of that short rant...We spent yesterday and today doing farmwork in the morning until 2pm. Yesterday, we had to chase goats and grab them by the horns to vaccinate 100 of them. Then we herded cattle to vaccinate about 100 cows. This morning we lifted the poopy tails of the cows and painted oil around their tick-infested anuses in order to kill the ticks. I also had the opportunity to castrate a few young males...Interesting.
After working, we'd enjoy some food cooked in a pot over an outdoor fire. It was food like home except for dinner we had traditional pap with a local spinach type of food. Today we tried sour milk. It's milk that never gets refridgerated, thus it ferments and becomes quite chunky and sour. It's a different milk and is a different sour than letting your gallon sit in the fridge for an extra week. This stuff wasn't too bad, but I'm not going to ask for it again.
Yesterday, a few of us sat around a circle in some lawn chairs. Conversation was slow-paced and there was probably a 15 minute period of silence in which we all just looked around, but it was comfortable in my opinion (Erin might disagree). Only 1 of the 5 people around the farm knew english fluently, so that made for a slower pace of convo. Later in the evening, we played dominos for over 2 hours by candlelight (the actual game, not the lining them up and tipping them over). It was great to be able to join in a game and laugh together even though we couldn't communicate verbally. The three of us sucked at first...we weren't even playing right. It wasn't until Papyeni came over and explained the rules correctly to us in english that we caught on.
As I'm righting this, I'm realizing that there is no effective way to communicate what I'm experiencing. So I've decided the best I can do is to describe the events as they happen and maybe explain some of the things I'm learning along the way. I also don't really care that half of these sentences in this blog are overly wordy and maybe unclear. meh
oh, and we saw a cheetah crossing the road when we left the farm today. coolness.
some pics
Monday, February 12, 2007
This and That
The last few days in Namibia have been pretty solid. On Friday, we had the "Katatura quest." Katatura is the neighboring township that only blacks live in. The people there figured we are either tourists or people coming to take their land because that is the only circumstances when they see white people there.
On Saturday, we had about 15 local students from UNam and the Polytech University nearby come over. We had a good chance to interact with people our age. Later that night, they took us out as a whole group. We ended up at house with pretty much 95% guys, of which I believe only 2 were not looking to take advantage of our 16 girls. We later went to a club which was pretty rocking, even though that's not much of my scene. Two of the Namibian dudes would somehow dance in unison to every song. We decided to leave the place after a photographer that does a gossip column started taking our pictures.
Yesterday, the four of us from Valpo and Micah, one of the other guys that's from PLU, went to the Macedonia Lutheran Church in Katatura. Supposedly this church is the largest non-white Lutheran church in the world. It was a great experience despite the 3 hour service not being in English. The only english was when the pastor looked our direction in the middle of the service and said, "I see we have some visitors...why don't they come up and introduce themselves." So we went up into the front and introduced ourselves into the microphone. This pastor wasn't preaching, so he actually came out and sat next to us during the sermon and basically summarized it for us as the sermon went on. What a cool guy.
After the service, we met a lady that took us to her house and then walked us to the local market where we had a home-cooked lunch with delicious juice. The juice down here is amazing. And to everyone who thought I would starve, food here is more delicious and plentiful than home.
Some of us had today off because we aren't doing internships and our volunteering isn't set up yet or people's internships have fallen threw. So this morning I asked Passat of a nearby place to hike and we ended up at Daan Viljoen Park a few hours later. 10 of us took a 9km hike. We managed to see a variety of animals such as zebras, baboons, and a few other kinds of animals that I don't know their name. The wireless network at the house hasn't worked yet, so I haven't been able to use my computer to upload pictures so you can see them.
Our first class starts tomorrow. It feels nice knowing I only have 8 weeks of actual class. I'm
On Saturday, we had about 15 local students from UNam and the Polytech University nearby come over. We had a good chance to interact with people our age. Later that night, they took us out as a whole group. We ended up at house with pretty much 95% guys, of which I believe only 2 were not looking to take advantage of our 16 girls. We later went to a club which was pretty rocking, even though that's not much of my scene. Two of the Namibian dudes would somehow dance in unison to every song. We decided to leave the place after a photographer that does a gossip column started taking our pictures.
Yesterday, the four of us from Valpo and Micah, one of the other guys that's from PLU, went to the Macedonia Lutheran Church in Katatura. Supposedly this church is the largest non-white Lutheran church in the world. It was a great experience despite the 3 hour service not being in English. The only english was when the pastor looked our direction in the middle of the service and said, "I see we have some visitors...why don't they come up and introduce themselves." So we went up into the front and introduced ourselves into the microphone. This pastor wasn't preaching, so he actually came out and sat next to us during the sermon and basically summarized it for us as the sermon went on. What a cool guy.
After the service, we met a lady that took us to her house and then walked us to the local market where we had a home-cooked lunch with delicious juice. The juice down here is amazing. And to everyone who thought I would starve, food here is more delicious and plentiful than home.
Some of us had today off because we aren't doing internships and our volunteering isn't set up yet or people's internships have fallen threw. So this morning I asked Passat of a nearby place to hike and we ended up at Daan Viljoen Park a few hours later. 10 of us took a 9km hike. We managed to see a variety of animals such as zebras, baboons, and a few other kinds of animals that I don't know their name. The wireless network at the house hasn't worked yet, so I haven't been able to use my computer to upload pictures so you can see them.
Our first class starts tomorrow. It feels nice knowing I only have 8 weeks of actual class. I'm
Thursday, February 8, 2007
Too much
There's so much to cover about the last two weeks. I probably won't write it all down because it would either be too much or too hard to explain. We arrived in Windhoek, Namibia yesterday. Thus, I finally have access to some internet. The only problem was that it didn't work until now and it's still a bit sketchy. I'm not going to write much now because we are still settling in, but the experience in South Africa was incredible. We visited the Apartheid Museum, talked with two people directly involved in the 1976 Soweto student uprising, met with the Secretary General of the South African Council of Churches (kinda a big deal), had conversation with someone at the US embassy, went to a one-man play, and stayed with a family in Soweto for last weekend. For those of you that aren't familiar with South Africa, Soweto stands for South West Township and it is the city that whites forced blacks to move into during the apartheid area. Despite apartheid ending in 1994, its legacy of segregated neighborhoods still lives on. Several million people live in this area that is not at all big. The reaction I got from white people when I said we were in Soweto was the same as one that I receive in response to Gary, Indiana. However, Soweto was still amazing and the people were more friendly than I could ever imagine.
One of the most intriguing parts of being in South Africa was the attitude towards us as Americans. Once people learned we were from the US and were not just Afrikaners (a large population of the whites of Dutch descendant), they were so incredibly welcoming. People treat us like royalty and honestly think we might know famous rappers or whatever. When we would hang out with Afrikaners and blacks alike, they would both very proudly introduce us as their "american friends." It's a quite a different attitude than how some of Europe would view us. So much of popular culture here is from the US. As one local put it, "In the US, JayZ is a hero. In South Africa, JayZ is God."
I'll post a few interesting stories that took place, but not right now.
I'm definitely glad that I am here in this program. It's plenty of fun, but it still is very academic as we did meet with some very important people. I almost feel like I'm an expert now on South African history under Apartheid, but I still probably know nothing since this is what I'll be studying all semester. It has mainly just been cool to go and experience this history by going to the places it happened and by meeting the people it affected. We haven't started classes yet (they start Monday), but I've learned more than what 2 weeks of any class could teach.
One of the most intriguing parts of being in South Africa was the attitude towards us as Americans. Once people learned we were from the US and were not just Afrikaners (a large population of the whites of Dutch descendant), they were so incredibly welcoming. People treat us like royalty and honestly think we might know famous rappers or whatever. When we would hang out with Afrikaners and blacks alike, they would both very proudly introduce us as their "american friends." It's a quite a different attitude than how some of Europe would view us. So much of popular culture here is from the US. As one local put it, "In the US, JayZ is a hero. In South Africa, JayZ is God."
I'll post a few interesting stories that took place, but not right now.
I'm definitely glad that I am here in this program. It's plenty of fun, but it still is very academic as we did meet with some very important people. I almost feel like I'm an expert now on South African history under Apartheid, but I still probably know nothing since this is what I'll be studying all semester. It has mainly just been cool to go and experience this history by going to the places it happened and by meeting the people it affected. We haven't started classes yet (they start Monday), but I've learned more than what 2 weeks of any class could teach.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Almost...
Tomorrow is finally the day. I'm feeling pretty chill about it. After having 5 different friends do the same program the last three semesters, I've gotten a good feel of what to expect. As a result, I haven't had much anxiety. It probably won't hit me that I'm actually going to be in South Africa until I'm over the Atlantic tomorrow.
I've been packing up today, and somehow I have too much room. I'm bringing one large duffel bag and a small backpack, and I can't even fill up the duffel bag. It's pretty backwards...can't complain though.
I'm really excited to meet the group that I will be studying with. There will be 20 of us American students (4 of us are Valpo-ites). Basically, we will be living and doing everything together. We all live in the same house and classes are taught at the house. So I imagine it might get a little intense, but nonetheless we will probably grow pretty close bonds.
I probably won't update this again until Namibia (which is in a couple of weeks). Supposedly internet access will be harder to get in Johannesburg. Once in Namibia, our house has wireless.
Here's a map of Southern Africa (thanks Kim). I will mostly be in Windhoek, Namibia, but I will also be spending a week in Johannesburg and another one in Cape Town. (click on it to get a clearer view)
I've been packing up today, and somehow I have too much room. I'm bringing one large duffel bag and a small backpack, and I can't even fill up the duffel bag. It's pretty backwards...can't complain though.
I'm really excited to meet the group that I will be studying with. There will be 20 of us American students (4 of us are Valpo-ites). Basically, we will be living and doing everything together. We all live in the same house and classes are taught at the house. So I imagine it might get a little intense, but nonetheless we will probably grow pretty close bonds.
I probably won't update this again until Namibia (which is in a couple of weeks). Supposedly internet access will be harder to get in Johannesburg. Once in Namibia, our house has wireless.
Here's a map of Southern Africa (thanks Kim). I will mostly be in Windhoek, Namibia, but I will also be spending a week in Johannesburg and another one in Cape Town. (click on it to get a clearer view)
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I don't know exactly what's going to happen on this blog, but we'll see where it goes. I normally have trouble getting motivated to sit down and type this type of stuff. So I might be making posts every couple days or I may go a month without updating.
So here's the tentative schedule...
Now...Valpo, working in admissions
Jan 24: home, MN
Jan 27: leave
Jan 28: Johannesburg, South Africa
Feb 7: Windhoek, Namibia
March 11-30: rural homestay and travel
April 1: Windhoek
May 6: Cape Town, South Africa
May 14: MN
Well, there's not much else to say for another week.
So here's the tentative schedule...
Now...Valpo, working in admissions
Jan 24: home, MN
Jan 27: leave
Jan 28: Johannesburg, South Africa
Feb 7: Windhoek, Namibia
March 11-30: rural homestay and travel
April 1: Windhoek
May 6: Cape Town, South Africa
May 14: MN
Well, there's not much else to say for another week.
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