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March 10-13, 2009

It's been a dry past few days, which has been a nice change. In fact, from what I have seen, water levels seem to be going down all around Okahao. This doesn't mean that we're out of the woods just yet, but it's definitely at step in the right direction. My week has been good to me so far. I collected applications from learners for library assistants and hope to have the library up and running very soon. Also, non-promotional subjects (non-academic) were added into the timetable (finally-2 months into the school year) and I have been appointed two blocks of grade 12 Life Skills. I've yet to decide how I feel about that. The subject itself I am thrilled about- the fact that it is not considered an academic subject means that what little structure is regimented by the ministry of education for this course is very loose, leaving me a lot of wiggle room to essentially do with the class what I will. Mandated subsets of the course include HIV/AIDS, sexual health, careers and "life skills". My only trepidation about these classes is the fact that many of the grade 12 learners at this school are my age or older- something I do not plan on letting them in on. Leading instruction and lessons on sexual health to adults will be..interesting. I'm sure it will be fine. I am looking forward to having classes that (hopefully) understand, and communicate in, English better than my grade 8 and 9 learners. I think that I can have a really positive influence with the opportunities that Life Skills will provide me.

I had a fabulous miscommunication (misinterpretation, rather) in class today. I'm doing the past simple tense in my English classes right now and today I had some of my learners read out sentences that they wrote for homework. One boy, who I am very fond of but who is a little rebellious stood up with a sideways smirk, "He kicked the dog in the ass". Completely caught off guard I just stood there for a second, shocked, before asking him to repeat what he had just said. "He kicked the dog in the ass", I heard again. Stupefied, I slowly, tentatively, began to repeat what he had said. Thankfully I was cut off at "He kicked..." "-no Miss Jennifer..keeept" "sorry?" "keeept. Keep. Past tense, keept." "..kept?" (I was feeling less than confident about my teaching effectiveness at this point) "Yessssss..!", the class exhaled in unison, unabashedly disappointed in my ineptitude at understanding their thick Namibian accents. By this point I was thoroughly confused (He kept the dog in the ass?!) As it turned out, the sentence was: He kept the dog in the hash. Which, ooooobviously, is the fenced area around someone's home or set of huts. He kept the dog in the hash. Naturally it would have been far too easy on me to have been given 'I ran to school' or 'I ate lunch at noon'.

-I would like to interrupt my blog to point out that, since mentioning the dryness of the weather of late, it has began to rain.-

I caught a hike into Oshakati today with my principal to do some grocery shopping which I was unable to get done this past weekend (a story for another blog). As is routine, I was rushed into meeting him so that we could get on the road, and then didn't end up actually leaving or Oshakati for some time. We needed to stop at his house first, at which point my colleague and I were invited in for lunch that had been prepared for him by his house girl. She had prepared a traditional Namibian lunch- os***hima, a traditional porridge made from mahangu flour and water with the taste and consistency of sticky sand, and a few pieces of goat meat basking in a pool of grease-and-salt marinade. Traditionally, meals here are not served on individual plates; everyone shares the food from one platter. It is also traditional that people do not eat with utensils; they eat with their hands. One sticks his/her fingers into the thick and sticky porridge to claim a small handful which is then rolled around in the fingers into a neat ball and dipped in the meat grease and artfully plunged into the mouth. Fingers are then licked and sucked before again being plunged into the depths of the porridge. Plunge, gather, roll, dip, ingest, suck, plunge, repeat. The choreography of the meal shines a whole new light on the North American sin of double-dipping.

We washed the meal down with oshikundu, a home-brewed drink of sorghum, mahangu flour and water. The dry mixture looks like a scoop of garden soil, complete with roots and earthy goodness. The drink itself looks like the concoctions you would make as a child in the sandbox-complete with roots and earthy goodness. It looks in no way appealing, but is surprisingly tasty. This drink is the power drink of the north. We have our protein shakes and gatorades, Namibians have their oshikundu. I almost prefer the latter. The consistency of miscellaneous pieces of earth was easier to overlook than I anticipated it would be, and bordered on enjoyable.

Shortly thereafter we continued our journey to Oshakati. The conversation was light, covering mostly school, the floods, and the lion that was killed the day before just a few kms outside of Okahao. Pause. Reflect. Something about that sentence doesn't sound quite right. Someone tell me again what I'm doing here? Although almost all of the "wild animals" of Namibia (lions, jaguars etc) are in natural reserves, some escape in order to find more attainable prey (donkeys make an easier kill than a well-nourished zebra, which is no surprise. Donkeys are without question the dumbest animals to ever grace the continent.) and many migrate across the border from Angola; it might have come to escape flooding. I was saddened to hear of the slaughter of such an amazing animal, and also slightly bothered..my late-night walks in the dark have gotten a little more interesting. Just one more thing for my overactive imagination to prey on..so to speak.

My birthday presents to myself consisted of a bottle of wine, ice cream (ish) and frosted flakes...coveted specialty items that I splurged on. I also had the privilege of meeting Mr. Kamati's new born baby son, Daniel. Babies here...are beautiful. Little Daniel was just days old, with a full head of hair, big hands with impressive grip, and the most beautiful skin. It will take all of my strength not to pull and Angelina and bring one home with me.

Despite all of my illustrious plans for my Oshakati trip, between our lunch stop, random other errands along the way, and picking up Daniel and Mrs. Kamati from the hospital, grocery shopping was my only accomplishment. I am seriously considering abandoning all of my to-do list efforts because the rate at which I cross things out is downright depressing. As the old saying goes..why get done today what you can put off indefinitely.