Week 2 At Site

January 21, 2008

There are too many open doors in my house; I need a barrier. Today I was walking past the bathroom and my little brother was relieving his bladder. He turned his head and saw me walk past and didn’t really seem to care that the door was open. I can barely pee in public; I get squirmy about people hearing me (oh how I miss the public bathrooms in Japan with their little push-button sound machines that you could use as a sound barrier) handle my business. I usually need running water for inspiration. And I certainly turn the water here because you can here everything bounce off these concrete walls and it’s driving me crazy. Even when my family here takes showers, the door is halfway open- praise God the shower curtain is closed (not that I was looking)! But I hate to hear the sound of the soap squishing and all that kind of stuff. There are some things that should be private and I think these personal hygiene moments are among them.
When I get electricity I’m going to get a fan because I need a sound barrier. I hate to move at all late at night or early in the morning- people can always hear what you’re doing. Seriously, the walls could just as easily be made of paper, though I’m thankful that they’re not (I’ve already done that).There are also bats, bugs and other creepy crawlies making noise outside at night, not to mention the farm animals. There are no sounds of the city and I really like the quiet but still I don’t want to hear it all. Please Lord I need a buffer.

January 22, 2008

I can’t find it and I’ve looked everywhere. I only looked so that I could be sure that I didn’t have it though in my heart I already knew. I could see my favorite blue jacket (you know that one I wore all summer with the fold-up sleeves, patch pockets, and a sash) hanging on the back of the chair in my classroom. That was the last time I saw it. I couldn’t have been gone more than 5 minutes but I wasn’t wearing it (as in it wasn’t a part of my outfit) so I didn’t notice it was gone. When I started looking for it this morning and it wasn’t in the front of my closet I knew immediately. I’ve gone through most of the steps of mourning- you may think that is silly but I needed that to come to terms with it- the loss of my jacket. I loved it so much I had two. It is one of the few items I planned on taking with me when I leave.
So many things have been on my mind. On one hand I’m in Namibia and they don’t have much so I shouldn’t either. I don’t want to wear anything that will be distracting. They always wear the same thing (school uniforms but some have rips, stains, or are missing buttons) so I want to wear the same thing. I’m not planning on buying anything though. Everything I brought has to last me two years and most of what is still standing will be given to my village.
On the other hand, I feel violated. I can’t leave anything anywhere or trust anyone. Now I don’t even want to leave my clothes outside on the line to dry. It’s sad when you have to watch your back like that. You can never really relax but this is where I live and I don’t want to live like that.
Someone took something from me and here I am feeling guilty for ever even having it.

January 24, 2008

I adore grade 6! The sixth graders came to my classroom because their teacher for that period wasn’t there (out here we don’t have “substitute” teachers, we have relief teachers- in the schools outside of towns the teachers live at the school because there’s no way and it’s too far to go back and forth every day- who come for entire terms not just one day, if someone is out sick or whatever then they are just gone and their class may have nothing to do). When grade 6 came back to me at the end of the day I asked them what they wanted to do. Sing and dance they cried. Hey, that is more than fine with me; let’s see what you got. They filed into the class, put down their bags, and began gathering at the front of the chalkboard to decide where to begin. They started stomping and shuffling their feet along the cement floor, filling the room with music before they’d even sung a note. Then one of the quietest girls let out the most beautiful sounds, they made a chorus around her, and each followed suit adding their part to the mix. I asked what they were singing about- everything! One was about a fast car, another was about their family names, and they even sang one about being chased by a dog.
After that they each got up and performed individually! On the spot each child had a song, dance, or chant to present to the class. This would never happen in a regular American classroom (Fame doesn’t count). I love the way children in this country spontaneously break into singing and dancing. Happily I can say T.I.N. (This Is Namibia)!