Riding the Curve

In our WorldTeach orientation we learned about culture shock-its stages and manifestations and relative timeframes. We talked about the "culture curve", a graphical mapping out of the highs and lows of cultural awareness and culture shock upon being immersed in a new culture for an extended period of time. I'm not going to bore you with the details, but let it be known that I have now set up camp in stage two: Initial Culture Shock, moving from my cozy little nest in Initial Euphoria. I was perfectly content and comfortable in my bubble of effervescent optimism and enthusiasm for this whole new world that has been swirling around me at lightening speed for the past month and a half. Yes, I struggled and I got frustrated, but it was nothing that consuming half of the contents of my fridge and enjoying an African sunset couldn't handle. Truly, I have spent the last seven weeks in Okahao eating my feelings, riding out my problems on the coattails of a sugar high..and it was working for me until my body built up a tolerance, leaving me with two options: 1)deal with it like a grown-up (which, by the way, I am in constant denial of actually being) or 2)move onto something harder than sugar. Against my better judgement I'm opting for choice #1-I can't really justify an emotional, calorie-laden downward spiral, what with a psychology degree and all. Anyways, back to The Curve. The little daily idiosyncrasies of life in rural Namibia-both at home and at school-that I was getting so good at shrugging off and laughing about are suddenly digging themselves under my skin. It's no longer fun waking up at five a.m. and having to flip-flop a spider and three cockroaches to death in my bathroom while still wiping the sleep out of my eyes. Having to ask a million questions to get one half-answer that has a 50-50 chance of actually being correct out of anyone I meet is no longer an adventure, it's a damn nuisance. Having to do everything myself if I want it done within the next two months is no longer a challenge, it's a burden. I feel as though I am becoming more and more tired every day just from daily interactions and the energy that everything requires. I hate admitting to myself that on especially tiring days I come to resent and dread interactions with my colleagues and community, and even my learners. Yesterday I hid out, literally, in my bedroom eating dinner in silence while the neighbouring kids were knocking on my door. For at least 15 minutes (they're persistent little things) I ate salad in my bedroom on the floor with the curtains drawn until the knocking desisted. Yes, I was aware of how pathetic it was at the time, I just didn't have the energy or patience that the interaction would require and I didn't have the heart to turn them away. So I hid. Alone. In my room. From children. Not my proudest moment. My WorldTeach photocopied worksheet tells me that this is normal and common at this point in time for many volunteers. A positive: I have advanced from my state of ingenuous and optimistic denial into the real world. A negative: Ingenue is much more fun.

So please, forgive me if my next few blogs carry with them a tinge of cynicism. I don't mean to do it on purpose, and it does not reflect my general outlook on life here; writing especially seems to arouse my inner cynic.

Some of the projects that I am currently working on include: getting our library up and functioning so that learners can make use of the books that we have collecting dust in the library; pushing the Timetable Committee to actually finalize the school timetable and add in non-promotional subjects (Physical Education, Life Skills, Computers, Art) ..we are two months into the school year after all..; drafting a grant proposal for my school to purchase more books and resources for the learners; deciphering the state of the flooding and brainstorming ways in which I can assist in relief efforts; making sense of the syllabi for my classes and developing appropriate lesson plans and activities. I'm probably overdoing it, and setting my sights too high, but I am my mother's daughter after all. As the offspring of Wonder Woman and a father who is always at the top of the volunteer list and has never failed to be less than 100% supportive and giving of himself one could say that I come by it honestly. I've dubbed this my "I don't give a $&!%, I'm doing it" week. Asking and waiting gets you nowhere. Thus, I don't give a $&!% (insert expletive of choice), I'm doing it.

I'll keep you posted on my progress, and for all of our sakes I will heed the advice of my trusty WT handouts and set my goals small, focus on each and every success (or indication that there is an inkling of success out there) and most definitely maintain a sense of humour.

Oshili nawa. (Oshindonga for it's fine / I'm fine / good / okay / don't worry / you're welcome...) ...in other words, "it's all good"