School was amazing and difficult. Girls would heckled me as I tried to teach, asking questions that would make me blush. Two minutes after class was over, they'd be giggling with me, trying to teach me Oshiwambo, exchanging addresses, asking how to avoid temptation. I loved them.
Their faces and stories haunt me nearly every day.
Johanna, who was panicked about passing her Grade 12 exams, who wanted me to pray for her
Olivia, whose fiance beats her. She stays with him, even though she doesn't love him. She says she's never loved him.
Rocxy, whose only goal that week was to teach me Oshiwambo
Frida, who asked for my copy of "Choose to Wait"
Julia, one of the bravest girls I've ever met. She dropped out of school to have her baby, and then came back. She wants to be the future of Namibia. She wants to be a marine biologist. I deeply desire to know how she is, how her daugher is, what God is doing in her life.
I returned to our house angry and exhausted. I don't understand a culture where a young girl is beaten by her boyfriend, and all she knows how to do is laugh. I cannot accept a society where there is an epidemimc of young women dropping out of school because they are carrying their teacher's babies. These men are supposed to protect and educate these young women, but instead, are using one of the few lucrative professions in Namibia in order to exploit them. Yes, these things happen in the United States, but we agree that they are not acceptable. In Namibia, I got the feeling that nobody cared. Nobody wanted to change the system. These girls were expendable; they had no value.
I would tell my stories to my teammates, often in disbelief. I craved someone to tell me that it wasn't right, and to give me a vague idea of what I should say.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Part Eight: The First Day of School
We were terrified about dancing. I mean...let's be honest...when a group of white college students dances in front of an assembly of African teens, do you expect them to be impressed?
They laughed. We knew they would, and hoped that they wouldn't, but we weren't surprised when they did.
After our assembly, we broke up into groups of two or three and taught classes. I didn't quite know what to say. How was I supposed to start? Would they ask me questions? How should I relate to them? What did I want to say? What if they didn't pay attention? Who in the world decided that I was capable of talking to African teens about abstinence when I wouldn't feel comfortable doing the same thing in my native country?
My first day at Mweshipandeka High School was too full and too real.
The young man who feigned disinterest while Robin was talking, but later came to ask me questions about HIV. He didn't want to get tested, because he was afraid to test positive. He couldn't have been older than sixteen.
A Grade 12 classroom with no books on the shelves.
Things that were heartbreakingly difficult to hear, and impossible to respond to: "I've heard that in the United States, they have the cure for AIDS, but they just want us Africans to suffer."
Kaylen and I walked into a Grade 9 Home Sciences class. They didn't have a teacher. As soon as we entered the classroom, the girls started screaming. "Can we hug you?" they squealed. We both said yes, and had girls running toward the front of the classroom. After a few minutes, most of them returned to their seats. They asked about the United States. Did we know any famous people? (No.) Were we movie stars? (Of course not.) What do you think of Namibia? (It's a very nice country, and I love the people.) We talked about sex, relationships, abstinence. One of the girls in the back asked if we were missionaries. I was taken aback, because yes, I was a missionary, and I hadn't realized it. The thought of being a missionary terrified me. This girl, Priscilla, wanted to be a missionary, and wanted to know how you become a missionary.
Those Grade 9 girls stole my heart that day. For the rest of the trip, all I wanted to do was hang out with them, laugh with them, mentor them. They were so incredibly open, and wanted to tell me everything about their lives: the good, the bad, the embarrassing, the exciting.
After their class, I went back to the gym and nearly cried when telling one of my teammates about the amazing love that these girls had shown me. These girls were yearning for someone to guide them, listen to them, care about them.
They laughed. We knew they would, and hoped that they wouldn't, but we weren't surprised when they did.
After our assembly, we broke up into groups of two or three and taught classes. I didn't quite know what to say. How was I supposed to start? Would they ask me questions? How should I relate to them? What did I want to say? What if they didn't pay attention? Who in the world decided that I was capable of talking to African teens about abstinence when I wouldn't feel comfortable doing the same thing in my native country?
My first day at Mweshipandeka High School was too full and too real.
The young man who feigned disinterest while Robin was talking, but later came to ask me questions about HIV. He didn't want to get tested, because he was afraid to test positive. He couldn't have been older than sixteen.
A Grade 12 classroom with no books on the shelves.
Things that were heartbreakingly difficult to hear, and impossible to respond to: "I've heard that in the United States, they have the cure for AIDS, but they just want us Africans to suffer."
Kaylen and I walked into a Grade 9 Home Sciences class. They didn't have a teacher. As soon as we entered the classroom, the girls started screaming. "Can we hug you?" they squealed. We both said yes, and had girls running toward the front of the classroom. After a few minutes, most of them returned to their seats. They asked about the United States. Did we know any famous people? (No.) Were we movie stars? (Of course not.) What do you think of Namibia? (It's a very nice country, and I love the people.) We talked about sex, relationships, abstinence. One of the girls in the back asked if we were missionaries. I was taken aback, because yes, I was a missionary, and I hadn't realized it. The thought of being a missionary terrified me. This girl, Priscilla, wanted to be a missionary, and wanted to know how you become a missionary.
Those Grade 9 girls stole my heart that day. For the rest of the trip, all I wanted to do was hang out with them, laugh with them, mentor them. They were so incredibly open, and wanted to tell me everything about their lives: the good, the bad, the embarrassing, the exciting.
After their class, I went back to the gym and nearly cried when telling one of my teammates about the amazing love that these girls had shown me. These girls were yearning for someone to guide them, listen to them, care about them.
Part Seven: The Wedding
I love weddings.
I'll watch weddings on TV. I'll browse wedding planning websites. I'll beg to be invited to weddings, because I LOVE WEDDINGS.
Part of my time in Namibia included attending a semi-traditional Oshiwambo wedding. Needless to say, I was thrilled. I couldn't wait. A wedding!
The night before the wedding, our team helped decorate the church. We didn't have much with which to decorate. Toilet paper. Food coloring. Balloons. But somehow, we made the church look amazing. Toilet paper and green food coloring turned into polka-dot crepe paper. We ran toilet paper bows down the aisle. We hung balloons from the ceiling; Jerome balanced on a ladder while a whole crew of guys held onto it.
The most amazing part of the night before the wedding was when Rico, Jerome, and Ashwin sat in the middle of the church and started singing hymns in flawless harmony. At that second, I thought I'd never be able to go home. How had I lived for nineteen years without this?
The morning of the wedding found the girls' house in complete excitement. We swapped clothes, eager to dress up, even though "dressing up" only meant showering and trying to find something semi-clean/not-too-wrinkly to wear.
The ceremony was lovely. There was at least an hour and a half of worship music, then a sermon, and then the actual wedding ceremony. The wedding party DANCED down the aisle. I don't think that I've ever been to a more beautiful wedding. I loved every second of it. (True to the concept of "Namibian time", some guests were still arriving after the kiss!)
After the church, everyone headed to a local water park to take pictures with the bride and groom. The park had waterslides, a mini zoo with monkeys, and springbok roaming the grounds.
After taking pictures, we waited headed home, changed into jeans, went to the reception site, and waited for everything to start. We waited. And waited. And waited. In Namibia, the new couple goes to the bride's reception first, and then to the groom's reception. We were guests of the groom, so our reception was delayed a little bit...about two hours. At this point, it was late afternoon, and we hadn't eaten since breakfast, but we were too excited to complain.
The couple finally showed up, accompanied by Oshiwambo women in their traditional dress. According to custom, the groom must wait at the gate for his father to come and welcome him in. Evidently, it's also a custom that the father make the son and his new bride wait. At this point, the guests were going wild, ululating, dancing, singing.
The bride and groom made their way into the tents. There were gigantic plates of food, and more types of meat than I've ever seen in one place at one time. We ate and laughed and drank too many Cokes and danced with complete strangers. It was the simplest, most beautiful, most joyful wedding I've ever had the honor of attending.
Friday, November 2, 2007
Part Six: First Reflections on Oshakati
We lived in two houses: one for the boys, one for the girls. We slept on foam mats on the floor. There were six girls in my room, and four in the other. We had two bathrooms. One shower, for bathing. One bathtub, which would soon be used for washing clothes. We each had a backpack, a sleeping bag, and a few outfits. Cat was allergic to wheat and had brought a suitcase full of gluten-free food. Anna, Kaylen, and Aften had lost their luggage somewhere along the way, so we shared clothes, soap, antimalarials.
We arrived in Oshakati on a Thursday and would not start school until Monday. The first few days were spent experiencing the culture. Enthony and Andrew introduced me to Oshikandela, a thick yogurt drink. I wasn't a fan, but whenever we stopped for gas or went into town, they would buy some.
I'd spent my whole life being "Mexican-American", whatever that means. I was intermediate. I was brown. I was a woman of color, wasn't I? But as soon as I stepped foot on African soil, I was white. In Namibia, there was only black and white. I was an American. From the way that I looked, people knew exactly who I was and where I was from; for me, it was unsettling.
Most billboards in Namibia feature condoms or alcohol. I wasn't shocked by the fact that there were condom billboards, but I was surprised by the sheer number of them. However, they were completely outnumbered by alcohol ads. Nearly every other shop that we saw was a bar. I asked Bonita if alcohol was inexpensive in Namibia. She told me that it wasn't, and didn't say much more about it; people would rather spend their hard-earned money on alcohol than on food or clothing.
I wondered if my heart should break more for those living in economic poverty or in spiritual poverty. I was experiencing a lot of guilt at this point. Guilt because I had never known what it meant to be in need. Guilt because I lived on my own and rented a room that was bigger than some of the shacks I was seeing. Guilt because I had never washed clothes by hand. Guilt because I was born halfway around the world and rarely ever thought about this side of the world.
I was very quiet during the first few days in Oshakati. I didn't want to speak and allow my thoughts to seem less real, or more frivolous. Andrew had quickly become one of my closest friends on trip. "Where are you?" he would ask me. "Are you overseas?" It seemed that if I wasn't lost in thoughts of Tempe, I would forget about it altogether. I would steal quick memories of my ASU friends, salt river tubing, my dog. But most of the time, I was still in Namibia, wondering how to respond to the things I was experiencing.
We arrived in Oshakati on a Thursday and would not start school until Monday. The first few days were spent experiencing the culture. Enthony and Andrew introduced me to Oshikandela, a thick yogurt drink. I wasn't a fan, but whenever we stopped for gas or went into town, they would buy some.
I'd spent my whole life being "Mexican-American", whatever that means. I was intermediate. I was brown. I was a woman of color, wasn't I? But as soon as I stepped foot on African soil, I was white. In Namibia, there was only black and white. I was an American. From the way that I looked, people knew exactly who I was and where I was from; for me, it was unsettling.
Most billboards in Namibia feature condoms or alcohol. I wasn't shocked by the fact that there were condom billboards, but I was surprised by the sheer number of them. However, they were completely outnumbered by alcohol ads. Nearly every other shop that we saw was a bar. I asked Bonita if alcohol was inexpensive in Namibia. She told me that it wasn't, and didn't say much more about it; people would rather spend their hard-earned money on alcohol than on food or clothing.
I wondered if my heart should break more for those living in economic poverty or in spiritual poverty. I was experiencing a lot of guilt at this point. Guilt because I had never known what it meant to be in need. Guilt because I lived on my own and rented a room that was bigger than some of the shacks I was seeing. Guilt because I had never washed clothes by hand. Guilt because I was born halfway around the world and rarely ever thought about this side of the world.
I was very quiet during the first few days in Oshakati. I didn't want to speak and allow my thoughts to seem less real, or more frivolous. Andrew had quickly become one of my closest friends on trip. "Where are you?" he would ask me. "Are you overseas?" It seemed that if I wasn't lost in thoughts of Tempe, I would forget about it altogether. I would steal quick memories of my ASU friends, salt river tubing, my dog. But most of the time, I was still in Namibia, wondering how to respond to the things I was experiencing.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Part Five: The Bakkie
I spent the first three hours of the trip in the back of the bakkie (truck) with three other people. Cierra, Cat, Jerome, and I squished ourselves into a camper shell, on top of the mattresses we would be sleeping on for the next month. I was glad that it wasn't hot; I couldn't imagine sitting back there in the summer heat. We played cards. Jerome talked us into trying biltong, which is Namibian beef jerky. We told Jerome that we wanted to be Namibian. He told us that we would be on probation for the next three days, and that we needed to learn the national anthem.
By the time we stopped for lunch, we were grumpy from hunger and queasy from riding sideways down bumpy roads. We ate fried egg sandwiches that we'd brought along, and bought french fries and drinks from the grocery store.
The drive was long, and I had ample time to think about my expectations for the trip. Here is what I wrote in my journal that night:
"I want to listen more and speak less. I want to care more about what others are saying and to daydream less. I want to live with a deeper understanding and a greater concern for what life looks like, and how people around the world live. I want to focus less on words that hurt me and more on blessing others with what I choose to say. I want to speak scripture as everyday language."
By the time we stopped for lunch, we were grumpy from hunger and queasy from riding sideways down bumpy roads. We ate fried egg sandwiches that we'd brought along, and bought french fries and drinks from the grocery store.
The drive was long, and I had ample time to think about my expectations for the trip. Here is what I wrote in my journal that night:
"I want to listen more and speak less. I want to care more about what others are saying and to daydream less. I want to live with a deeper understanding and a greater concern for what life looks like, and how people around the world live. I want to focus less on words that hurt me and more on blessing others with what I choose to say. I want to speak scripture as everyday language."
Part Four: Hodygos Training Centre
We saw zebras from the airplane. And springbok. We stepped off the plane, and I was in AFRICA!!! It was surreal. Lacey, Jameson, Merrilee, and I were finally reconnected with the rest of our non-Namibian team. They were waiting for us, and for their luggage, about half of which made it to the airport in Windhoek, the capital of Namibia. We loaded our bags into the bus and drove the hour from Windhoek to Okahandja. I don't remember much from the drive, because I was exhausted. However, I DO remember that we saw baboons on the side of the road and that was the highlight of our drive.
Hodygos Training Centre is located in Okahandja, and it is "home base" for Youth for Christ of Namibia. It's your typical bible camp/weekend retreat/ministry training campus. There were cabins with bunkbeds, and a dining hall, and a worship center. YFC has a program called Short Term Missionary Training (STMT), which is a year-long Bible study program. The STMT students live on Hodygos during their training, and their focus is the outreach on which we would be going. YFC of Namibia also has a team called Generation21 (G21), which is a dance and drama team that goes into Namibia schools to preach the gospel and talk about abstinence.
The first night, we barely had enough energy to make it through dinner. We sang, ate, and headed off to bed. We also took our first shower since we'd left the States. I was so tired that I almost forgot to wash the shampoo out of my hair.
Our first few days at Hodygos were pivotal for team bonding. We went into Okahandja to exchange money and to see the town. The girls in my cabin, the girls who would be going to Oshakati, stayed up late, talking and giggling, getting to know each other. Our group would be going to Oshakati with the G21 team, which was significantly smaller than the STMT team. We saw the G21 team dance during our time on Hodygos, and we were very impressed. They were AMAZING. They taught us a few of the dramas, and we spent time before meals trying to pick up some of the African dances. We were awful, but willing to learn.
My biggest worry in the first few days was the food. I hadn't eaten beef for about seven years. It sounds silly, but I spent most of the first week praying for stomach, praying that I wouldn't get sick.
After a few days of rest in Okahandja, we packed up the trucks to make our way to Oshakati. Our trip was delayed two, three, four hours, because one of trucks was in the shop. We spent time getting to know each other better. Playing music. Chasing dogs. Chasing babies. Making lunches. This was our introduction to "Namibian time", which is nothing at all like American time. When the truck was back from the shop, we packed it up, and left on a 9-hour drive north to Oshakati.
Hodygos Training Centre is located in Okahandja, and it is "home base" for Youth for Christ of Namibia. It's your typical bible camp/weekend retreat/ministry training campus. There were cabins with bunkbeds, and a dining hall, and a worship center. YFC has a program called Short Term Missionary Training (STMT), which is a year-long Bible study program. The STMT students live on Hodygos during their training, and their focus is the outreach on which we would be going. YFC of Namibia also has a team called Generation21 (G21), which is a dance and drama team that goes into Namibia schools to preach the gospel and talk about abstinence.The first night, we barely had enough energy to make it through dinner. We sang, ate, and headed off to bed. We also took our first shower since we'd left the States. I was so tired that I almost forgot to wash the shampoo out of my hair.
Our first few days at Hodygos were pivotal for team bonding. We went into Okahandja to exchange money and to see the town. The girls in my cabin, the girls who would be going to Oshakati, stayed up late, talking and giggling, getting to know each other. Our group would be going to Oshakati with the G21 team, which was significantly smaller than the STMT team. We saw the G21 team dance during our time on Hodygos, and we were very impressed. They were AMAZING. They taught us a few of the dramas, and we spent time before meals trying to pick up some of the African dances. We were awful, but willing to learn.
My biggest worry in the first few days was the food. I hadn't eaten beef for about seven years. It sounds silly, but I spent most of the first week praying for stomach, praying that I wouldn't get sick.
After a few days of rest in Okahandja, we packed up the trucks to make our way to Oshakati. Our trip was delayed two, three, four hours, because one of trucks was in the shop. We spent time getting to know each other better. Playing music. Chasing dogs. Chasing babies. Making lunches. This was our introduction to "Namibian time", which is nothing at all like American time. When the truck was back from the shop, we packed it up, and left on a 9-hour drive north to Oshakati.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Part Three: Up in the Air
It takes a long time to fly from Phoenix, Arizona, USA to Windhoek, NAMIBIA. I think it's somewhere around twenty-three hours in the air. I spent a ton of time in an airplane on the first few days of my trip.
I called my parents in my last few minutes at the airport. My mom's family was in Hawaii for our yearly family reunion, so they all yelled an enormous ALOHA!!! at me. I also got the good news that my cousin Maddie had gotten engaged while they were there. It was great to hear, but my heart was a little sore hearing that my family was on vacation without me, getting engaged without me, and mostly that I would be without them for the next month.
I've been on airplanes before, but the majority of them have either been flights between NorCal and SoCal, or California and Arizona. I was amazed at how huge the plane was.
Here's something silly:
I love airplane food.
I love the way it looks. I love how neat it is. I love that the flight attendants ask you whether you'd like chicken or beef. I love drinking tea, because it makes me feel classy. I love airplanes. I think they're exciting.
I watched "Pan's Labyrinth", "The Holiday" (for the third time) and listened to hours and hours of Simon and Garfunkel. I should have tried to sleep, but I was still too excited, knowing that I would be in AFRICA in less than a day.
*Side note*: At this point in time, Africa was still AFRICA!!! in my mind. New. Unknown. Exciting. All capitals and three exclamation points. AFRICA!!! [It's not that Africa is any less exciting to me now that I've been there...it's just that now I have a deep, real love for the continent, whereas before, all I had were eager expectations.]
We landed in London around 11 a.m., and our flight was scheduled to leave Heathrow around 9 p.m. Our trip leaders handed us passes to the Underground and let us loose on London. At this point, none of us had slept much, and we were carrying all of our carryon baggage. For me, this meant that I had to carry my pillow around London. Also, I was wearing a tie-dyed shirt, while Cierra, one of my teammates, was wearing a shirt with Cheeseasauras Rex on it. Needless to say, we weren't exactly incognito, and I'm sure that people could easily mark us as American tourists.
Cierra and I walked around London for about two hours. We ate at Quizno's, tried to use the internet at McDonald's, and saw the sights. Here's a quick rundown:
- Big Ben was much sparklier than I ever imagined.
- The London Eye was very big.
- We talked to the bobbies, and they pointed us in the direction of Tony Blair's house. The day we were in London was also the day that Tony Blair resigned, so that was interesting, and somewhat exciting to be there.
But mostly, we just walked around in the rain and laughed at the absurdity of US being in LONDON and going on to AFRICA!!!
The team got back to the airport and hopped on the plane which would take us from London, England to Johannesburg, South Africa. I ended up sitting between Cierra and a young man named Conrad, who was travelling from Switzerland to South Africa. He was 17, and we talked about skateboarding, skate shoes, South Africa. By this leg of the trip, my team had discovered Tylenol P.M., so we spent most of the flight getting some much needed sleep.
Our flight had been a few hours late getting into Jo-burg, so my team was running through the airport, trying to make it to the correct terminal. However, for some reason, Merrilee, Jameson, Lacey, and myself got bumped to a later flight. The best part about this was that we got free meal vouchers, so we bought chocolates and sodas and sandwiches and spent some time in the Jo-burg airport getting to know each other better. We ended up on the same flight as the Namibian rugby team, who sat by Merrilee and invited our team to see a match (which sadly, didn't happen, because we didn't have time).
Finally, almost four days after I'd left Phoenix, I was in Namibia.
I called my parents in my last few minutes at the airport. My mom's family was in Hawaii for our yearly family reunion, so they all yelled an enormous ALOHA!!! at me. I also got the good news that my cousin Maddie had gotten engaged while they were there. It was great to hear, but my heart was a little sore hearing that my family was on vacation without me, getting engaged without me, and mostly that I would be without them for the next month.
I've been on airplanes before, but the majority of them have either been flights between NorCal and SoCal, or California and Arizona. I was amazed at how huge the plane was.
Here's something silly:
I love airplane food.
I love the way it looks. I love how neat it is. I love that the flight attendants ask you whether you'd like chicken or beef. I love drinking tea, because it makes me feel classy. I love airplanes. I think they're exciting.
I watched "Pan's Labyrinth", "The Holiday" (for the third time) and listened to hours and hours of Simon and Garfunkel. I should have tried to sleep, but I was still too excited, knowing that I would be in AFRICA in less than a day.
*Side note*: At this point in time, Africa was still AFRICA!!! in my mind. New. Unknown. Exciting. All capitals and three exclamation points. AFRICA!!! [It's not that Africa is any less exciting to me now that I've been there...it's just that now I have a deep, real love for the continent, whereas before, all I had were eager expectations.]
We landed in London around 11 a.m., and our flight was scheduled to leave Heathrow around 9 p.m. Our trip leaders handed us passes to the Underground and let us loose on London. At this point, none of us had slept much, and we were carrying all of our carryon baggage. For me, this meant that I had to carry my pillow around London. Also, I was wearing a tie-dyed shirt, while Cierra, one of my teammates, was wearing a shirt with Cheeseasauras Rex on it. Needless to say, we weren't exactly incognito, and I'm sure that people could easily mark us as American tourists.
Cierra and I walked around London for about two hours. We ate at Quizno's, tried to use the internet at McDonald's, and saw the sights. Here's a quick rundown:
- Big Ben was much sparklier than I ever imagined.
- The London Eye was very big.
- We talked to the bobbies, and they pointed us in the direction of Tony Blair's house. The day we were in London was also the day that Tony Blair resigned, so that was interesting, and somewhat exciting to be there.
But mostly, we just walked around in the rain and laughed at the absurdity of US being in LONDON and going on to AFRICA!!!
The team got back to the airport and hopped on the plane which would take us from London, England to Johannesburg, South Africa. I ended up sitting between Cierra and a young man named Conrad, who was travelling from Switzerland to South Africa. He was 17, and we talked about skateboarding, skate shoes, South Africa. By this leg of the trip, my team had discovered Tylenol P.M., so we spent most of the flight getting some much needed sleep.
Our flight had been a few hours late getting into Jo-burg, so my team was running through the airport, trying to make it to the correct terminal. However, for some reason, Merrilee, Jameson, Lacey, and myself got bumped to a later flight. The best part about this was that we got free meal vouchers, so we bought chocolates and sodas and sandwiches and spent some time in the Jo-burg airport getting to know each other better. We ended up on the same flight as the Namibian rugby team, who sat by Merrilee and invited our team to see a match (which sadly, didn't happen, because we didn't have time).
Finally, almost four days after I'd left Phoenix, I was in Namibia.
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