Community-Based Training

The community based training portion of our pre-service training is more along the lines of what you would expect when I say “I’m in Africa with the Peace Corps.”  I say this lightly though, considering I cannot draw comparisons with anything I have before experienced.

To sum it up: I live on a farm in a small village called Okaku and am beginning to teach lessons at Nengushe Junior Secondary School.

Becoming a Teacher

There are less than 400 learners at Nengushe Junior Secondary School (Grades 8, 9, and 10) and approximately 20 staff members.  The students’ ages seem to range from 12-18. They have all been kind and welcoming to us which is greatly appreciated while we are easing in to a new culture.

I am here with 4 other Peace Corps Trainees and 2 trainers, although one just left us to pursue a new career and we all wish her the very best. 

As I stated previously, we are learning Oshindonga.  I am currently at a novice-mid level which basically means I can point at things to identify them and say short sentences and phrases.  It’s a slow process but every now and then I can understand what someone asks me and it gives me a boost of encouragement.

We’ve been co-teaching and observing classes for the past two weeks.  This week begins independent lesson planning and heading the class.  I’m focusing on English but look forward to a Physical Science or maybe a Life Skills lesson as well.

Schools here teach in the mother tongue in the earlier grades and then it switches to English as the official language for all classes.  Imagine suddenly having to take all classes in whatever language you took as an elective in high school.  Reasonably, many students are completely lost and fail simply because of the language barrier.

I’ve been told by my counterparts that I am hard to understand.  I have a bit of an accent and I speak to quickly.  I’ve really been working on annunciation but it will most likely take a while for me to establish a pace that the students can follow.  They won’t tell me when they don’t understand either…

Regardless, I’m starting to feel confident in my abilities and think I’m going to enjoy being an English teacher.

Culture

I believe I’m cut out for the country life.  I see the sunrise and sunset every day which usually consists of a neon pink/orange mirage over the sand.  The stars are (dare I say it?) out of this world.  You can look up into the sky and see the spiral arm of the Milky Way.  It entrances me every night.  I don’t believe I’ve seen a single cloud since I’ve come to the North.

On my homestead we have cows, goats, chickens, cats, and dogs which all seem to roam freely.  The goats are everywhere!  It’s a common occurrence for a few to wander on to campus during the day and we get a kick out of it every time. 

While I love being out here, I’m pretty ignorant in terms of farm life.  If any of you remember the reality show “The Simple Life” with Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie…they move out on a farm so that America can laugh at their bourgeoisie lifestyle when it comes to chores and the outdoors…that’s essentially me.  I don’t know how to clean an animal.  I’ve never hand-washed my clothes.  I’ve NEVER eaten this much meat.  I’m a spectacle for the whole family.

I feel gratitude for the opportunity to experience a new perspective but it has also been the most difficult part of training thus far.  Not because I can’t do any of it but because I am watched with a magnifying glass in everything I do.  Also because they don't want to teach me how to do it, they just want to do it all for me.

It took about a week for them to start letting me help with any cleaning or cooking.  They didn’t believe I knew how to do much of anything and that’s true for a good bit of it.  My sister even asked if I knew how to toast bread…with a toaster.

When I’m having a particularly stressful day, I perceive the attention to be from a place of mock rather than curiosity.  What I mean is, they laugh at me A LOT.  And I don’t always love being the circus clown, especially when I can’t understand what they are saying about me.

Our Namibian trainers have been conducting discussions on difficulties we’ve been facing assimilating into our new homes.  This is extremely beneficial since, often times, we misinterpret the reasoning behind why our hosts act the way they do.

It is in Namibian culture to be a good host to visitors.  People share what they have and give only the best to anyone who has come into their home.  Visitors are not supposed to work and it would be rude not to accommodate them.  This helps explain why they did not want to let me cook or do the dishes.

It’s also important to keep in mind: Namibia has only had its independence from South Africa for 25 years.  Before that, people were used to a great divide in races moving along side with Apartheid.  Even today, there isn’t a lot mixing between the races and cultural groups.  Many of the people in my area have never seen a white person. 

The older generations are used to being treated as lower class citizens since the German colonization of Southern Africa.  Usually, the black Africans worked as servants for the wealthy and, commonly, cruel whites.  Look in to Namibian history and you will read about the mass genocide of the Herero people by the Germans in the early 20^th century.  Sometimes, people mistake us for Germans and we aren’t received all that well, but that’s not so much the case in the northern part of the country.  Here, people only seem shocked at my presence and interest in their culture.

Just last week I went to visit my “host grandmother” who lives on a very traditional homestead.  The previous week she had not wanted me to come to her home because she wasn’t prepared for an oshilumbu (the Oshiwambo word for white person) to visit.  She held my hand throughout the meeting and thanked me profusely for visiting, telling me that I have a good heart to have taken pity on her.  I tried to explain that ”pity” wasn’t the right word for why I was there but she didn’t speak any English and there really wasn’t any use.  It was the first time she had an oshilumbu in her home and it clearly meant something to her.  She gave me a live chicken as a token of good will, $100 to split with my younger brothers (I spent my portion on them anyways), and a puppy.  Yes, I am now a mother to a darling little girl who I’ve named Ombili, which means “peace.” 

Anyways, they may or may not be used to white people but they certainly have never seen one hand wash her own clothes.  Americans have machines or servants that do it all for them.  It’s not necessarily that they are laughing AT me.  They are laughing at the situation.  I can understand that.  

From my perspective, I’m not anything special.  I’m here to be a teacher; a common profession in their society.  All this attention can be overwhelming and often seems ridiculous to me.  I’m used to my space and trying to blend in with the crowd.  That will never happen for me here.

It makes sense that teachers are coming in with the Peace Corps.  I’m not only a teacher, I’m an ambassador.  This is one of the main goals of the Peace Corps: better understanding of new cultures from both sides.  I have taken on the role of representing all Americans; I might even go so far as to say I am representing all white people since that’s so rare to see out here.

This is not an easy role.  I’m constantly challenging stereotypes thrown at me and sometimes I feel like all I can do is apologize for the vast differences in wealth throughout the world, even though I have no control over it. 

I have heard that the Peace Corps makes you feel guilty about your life.  Very true, indeed.

As much as I want to live at the same level as the villagers surrounding me, I’m still getting a steady income and have a bunch of electronics brought over from the States.  People know this about me and so there’s almost this expectation that I’m going to share it all.  While I have enough to share, I can’t support everyone.  If I open that can of worms, I’ll surely drown in it.  But it doesn’t make it any easier to tell people “no.”

Don’t misunderstand; I’m not feeling pity for anyone.  I see a lot of positives in their way of life and find myself envious at times.  I’m feeling the call to change my attitude.  I’m perfectly happy with what I have here and can begin to see materialism float out my open window.

At the end of the day, the things that make me smile are positive relationships, be that with humans or farm animals, nature in all of her beauty, and the opportunity to share knowledge where it is appreciated.  The rest of it (new clothes, a hot shower, etc…) has a minimal effect on my day-to-day mood. 

Strange how some of us have to live through unhappiness "with" in order to find "peace" without.