Stuck in Gobabis

May 10, 2008

My principal left me in Gobabis, my shopping town. Transportation is one of the most difficult parts of this transition for me. I haven’t told you about it because I don’t want you to try to make me come back. You can’t even imagine it. People in Namibia have forgotten too, maybe that’s why he so nonchalantly went back to the village without me without even a phone call.
I feel let down and unsupported. Hopefully I can hitch a ride with the Ministry of Education vehicle that is going to be delivering my fridge on Wednesday. I’ve got too much stuff to take the harrowing ride with the public transport and not enough patience right now to endure a 4 hour ride for what is really a 2.5 hour trip.
I’ve had a good cry about it. I just needed a good cry actually and that was my breaking point. Coming back from Cape Town was an unexpected transition. It was almost like culture shock all over again. I’ve had to fight against my self-defense techniques and remember that this one thing cannot negate all the other great things he does- how the heck would I get cooking gas without him? And usually when he goes to town he offers to take me. I can also rant to him about my education frustrations.
I’m not sure I’m going to give him the souvenir I brought for him from CT though.
In the mean time, I’m hanging out with my friends, having laughs, and watching ‘24’ for the first time.