The American Return

I've been wanting to sit down for awhile and put into words some of my return.  As of tomorrow, I will start my 10th day back in America.  In a lot of ways, it feels like I never left, but then when I look around me and witness all of the changes that have taken place, it is very apparent that I was gone for a LONG time.  Many of you may know this, but Texas is a booming state.  For the most part, the economy is still in decent/good shape.  With that said, Houston and Sugar Land are constantly continuing to develop.  I have returned home to new roads, new stores, new apartment complexes, etc.  It is such a drastic change that at one point I looked at my mom and asked, "where are we?!"  She was either entertained or a little concerned with my lack of directional skills.

Being back home has been great so far, but I won't sugarcoat this for y'all (why start now?), it is difficult.  When I'm at the house with my family I am at ease.  However, being with my blood family reminds me of the Namibian family (brothers/sister, learners, etc) that I left behind.  On most days I have this feeling that something is missing.  That I'm not totally complete at this moment.  I have the four most important people sitting next to me, but other important people are miles and miles away.  I can only attribute that feeling to my Namibian life that I left behind.

As for the difficulties that I have faced so far... HOLIDAY SEASON MADNESS!  The difficulties definitely started the minute I said goodbye to all of the other volunteers that I flew home with.  For starters, JFK is a madhouse during the Christmas season.  Coming from the village, heck even from Cape Town, I was NOT ready for that.  People were everywhere.  They were in a hurry.  They didn't want me to greet them and make small talk.  They were REALLY fancy.  I felt small, scared, and a little unsure about what was ahead.  Getting to Texas got some of that edge off, but there have been moments that I've questioned things happening around me.

During orientation, our Field Director shared a story about his first return back to the States.  He had visited the grocery store and was so overwhelmed with the orange juice selection that he walked right out.  I've definitely had similar moments, but for the most part I've just been following mom around like a lost, small child.  One day I ventured out with Amanda and Mark though, which is when I had my first overwhelming can't function moment.  We decided to go to Chick fil A.  Since leaving, Chick fil A has added the caloric information for all of their food.  When we entered the store, I was so taken back by this.  On top of that, I couldn't find what I needed.  As I approached the counter (Amanda and Mark had already ordered), I was baffled and spitting words randomly at everyone because I didn't know where my option was and on top of that, I had to order an extra drink for my mom.  To say I was a hot mess would be an understatement.  The boy behind the counter seemed concerned with my behavior.  Amanda had a "rub some dirt on it" kind of attitude happening.  Mom laughed her butt off when I told her the story later.

All in all, being home is going great!  I'm excited for all of the things ahead of me.  I'm thankful for such a rewarding year and for a family that allowed me to peace out for a year.

Many have asked about what is to come next... My response?  I wish I knew!  As of right now, I'm planning to take off at least a month to readjust, do some job searching, work on the resume, and acclimate back to American life.  If any of you blog readers out there know of any Communications positions that may be available, throw them my way.

It's December...

It’s officially December first, the first day of my last week in Odibo, and the first day of my last month in Namibia.  Ironically, the weather is a great representation of my current mood.  Since waking up, it has been raining off and on as the sun tries to peek through the dreary, overcast sky.  The sun sneaks a peek every so often, but quickly hides itself again for the raindrops to breakthrough.  In many ways, this is a perfect description of the emotions I am feeling about leaving.  In a matter of minutes, I can go from excited, to nervous, to upset, to anxious, to in tears.  There will be a glimpse of the joy of leaving, but in seconds, just like the rain, the sadness of saying goodbye returns.

For the most part, my bags are packed and ready to go.  Yes, I am on top of things, but that is mainly because I stayed in the village this last weekend.  Even with a lot of events taking place on Friday and Saturday, I was able to finalize these events, because let’s face it, there’s a lot you can get done in 48 hours when you are staying home.  Although I’m upset that I missed one last weekend with the other volunteers, I will see many of them one more time and I am glad that I took the time to stay home with the family. 

This weekend was a perfect end to my village life in Namibia.  On Friday, after finishing up at work, I took the boys into town to run a couple errands.  We also got photos printed, and since I knew they would want to do teenage boy things and not pal around with Ms. Mac, I left them at KFC with a chicken lunch and taxi fare to get home.  After taking care of my last minute needs, I walked to the market to catch a ride back to the village.  As much as the market has caused problems for me throughout these months, I secretly love it there.  The hustle and bustle, the boisterous laughs, the barbershops with men getting their hair done, the fat cakes and kapana waiting to be bought.  It is a vibrant, colorful part of Oshikango that screams life.  It is a place where the people are silently declaring that they are using all that they know in order to fight for their place in society.  After returning from town, I found my sweet little boy (let’s call him Kay because his name is too difficult) and Vistorina and headed to a shop to buy cool drinks and sweets.  When we got back, I hung out with Kay and then did some relaxing and socializing for the rest of the night.

On Saturday, I woke with determination to have a day filled with Namibian activities.  Around 9, some learners came over to greet me.  They had a meeting at the school and were waiting for the teacher to arrive.  A couple hours later, the same students and a couple others returned to watch Pitch Perfect and hangout with Ms. Mac for one last Saturday.  We had a movie, sweets, cool drinks, and dancing.  My heart was full watching these girls open up, laugh throughout the movie, and get excited about songs they liked.  Nathanael and Henry did some DJing for them, which got those Namibian dance moves I love so much to come out in full force.  Later in the afternoon, I headed to town to meet up with another American that moved to Namibia a couple weeks ago.  Finding out about him is a crazy side story that I may quickly write down at some point this week.  The night ended with my sweet Kay sharing dinner with me and playing with a random tire outside the house.  There were also many bugs, but what else is new.  Like many nights these past couple weeks though, the power went out due to the rain and I enjoyed another sweaty sleep. 

For this week, I am preparing myself to be emotional, but also a little distant.  I am like my mother in that sense.  I want to feel all of the ups and downs deeply, but I know myself and know that in some ways I should pull away a little for my own sake.  Then on Friday, a coworker will drive me to Eenhana in order to meet Emily and wait for the ministry transport that awaits us on Saturday.

Stop. Breathe.

I can’t believe this year is actually coming to an end.  If I am honest with all of you, I am very scared to come home.  I’m scared to fit back into society and that I may become hostile to some of the things we do as Americans.  I’m scared that no other job will be nearly as rewarding as this year I spent being 23.

Leaving my heart behind

I begin writing this blog entry with what feels like giant hands squeezing on my heart.  In some ways, it is hard to breathe, and in other ways, I’m forcing a sense of numbness to take over my body because I cannot bear to think about reality.  I’m in such a state of confusion when it comes to life currently.  In ten days, I take my bags, put them in a foreign vehicle and say goodbye to my home, my babies, and my life for the last year.  Some days it feels like this adventure was forever long, but on other, most recent days, it seems as if the days flew by before my eyes.  Before coming, I never thought about the leaving process, and throughout the year when I did so, I did it with a happy heart because there are so many new adventures lying before me.  I still think of these days with fondness, but as I come nearer to my departure date, I can’t help but to wish I could stay.  I can’t help but to want to continue to love on these sweet children.  I can’t help but to feel like I’m leaving my home and safety net again to be led back in to uncertainty.

During term one, I never thought that I would make it through a whole year in Namibia, but I was determined to keep my promise to myself, WorldTeach, and more importantly God.  If you have followed my writings for a while, you know how trying term one was for me.  You know the darkness I faced.  The uncertainty I was presented with on a daily basis.  The doubt I had in myself.  Miraculously though, thanks to the grace of God, I was given a second chance for term two and three.  From the start, I knew that term two and three would still present some problems and trying times, but something about the atmosphere reminded me that I was safe.  That I made the right decision to move to Namibia, and more importantly to stay.  I knew that this village was going to rock my world.

With these ten days left, I have been taking a lot of time to reflect on the past year and to appreciate all of the beauty that is before my eyes.  This beauty is most frequently seen in my learners.  They love on me.  They accept me.  They make me happy.  They comfort me.  They understand me.  They ROCK my world!  At the end of the day, I don’t know how I got so lucky to be these learners’ English teacher.  Each one is a gift from God, giving me a total of 92 precious gifts this year.

Now the ultimate question though, is how do I leave them?  How do I say goodbye when I know for so many of them it is a permanent goodbye?  A goodbye that will not be followed up with a Facebook message, email, or meeting date.  For many of them I will just be a moment in the past, but for me they have shaped my whole future.  It is not possible for me to permanently stay in this country, but somehow I have no idea how to leave.

Zim and Zam

I feel like I seriously have NOT blogged in awhile.  Life here in Northern Namibia is getting crazy busy as we wind down our year.  Exams are in full swing for the final term, I’m trying to start thinking about the packing process, and I am marking papers like a mad woman.  I leave the village in less than two weeks!  When did that happen?  However, I’m taking a little break to catch all of y’all up on the shenanigans that went down the previous week.

As several of you know, I traveled to Zambia and Zimbabwe with two other volunteers.  Before I go into great detail, let me just say that this is one of the best trips I have ever taken!  It may have been because it was spontaneous.  It may have been the company.  It may have been because the locals in these two countries are some of the nicest people I have ever met.  It may have been because I did some pretty extreme, hardcore stuff while I was there. Or maybe, it was all of the above and even more.  Either way, all you need to know is that I highly recommend traveling to these parts of Africa.

For the adventures we encountered, let me break it down day-by-day for you:

Friday: This was the first day of exams, so we all left school a little early so that we could get to the south before it was too late.  We went in style and avoided combis like it was the plague.  Somehow, we managed to get two private hikes (hitch hiking) all the way to Windhoek.  I can’t say that they were the safest drivers, but they sure got us to the city quickly.  Plus, there was a little AirCon to make us smile.  After arriving in Windhoek, we checked in at the hostel and headed to dinner.  It was an early night because we had an early flight the next morning.

Saturday: AIRPORT!!!  I think this is the longest I have gone without flying since living in Saudi.  If you know me well, you know the airport is one of the places that I feel most alive.  I could go to one every day just to watch the people, guess the different nationalities, and daydream about possible adventures.  My soul is happy here.  Either way, we woke up around 4am to get to the airport.  We caught a flight from Windhoek to JoBurg, and then JoBurg to Livingstone.  We stayed in Zambia during this trip, so the first day we just explored the open markets around town.  I was able to buy some fabric for myself and a couple Christmas gifts for the family.  It was another early night (who am I kidding, every night was early…we are grannies) because we had to catch a bus to Zim early the next day.

Sunday: Emily and Mallory had plans to go to Botswana in the morning, and in order to get there we had to pass through Zimbabwe.  On this morning, we woke up early, caught a bus to the border, purchased our visas, and headed off to another country.  I decided not to go to Botswana in order to save money for South Africa, plus I went on a safari with my parents and I was able to see a lot of cats.  While the girls were gone, I went on a tour of the falls.  I could have easily done this by myself, but it was nice to get a little bit of the history, plus I was able to make some new friends.  While I waited for the girls, I explored the markets and shops.  I think I made more friends in Zim than I have a whole year in Namibia.  Talk about the NICEST PEOPLE EVER!  Before the day started, I was a little concerned about being alone for 7 hours, but in the end, it was so rewarding to spend one-on-one time with the locals.

Mallory and Emily got back to Zim around 3, and then Em and I headed out to ride ELEPHANTS!!  We went on a 45-minute trek through Zimbabwe on the back of an elephant.  Our guide, Tom, told us a lot of interesting things about elephants, especially Doma, the one we were riding.  Doma is a 40 year-old male who is waiting for his last molar to come in.  Apparently, when the 6^th and last molar has come in at the age of 45, the male elephant is finally mature and ready to reproduce.  Why are men always such late bloomers?!  Female elephants are ready to go at 12 or so.  Come on boys!  After the trek though, we got to snuggle with Doma and take precious pictures, which you can find via my Facebook and Instagram.  The night ended with an African dinner and a drive back to Zambia.

Monday: Dreaded MONDAY!  The Devil’s Pool.  If you have never heard of this or done any research, please go do so now so that you have an understanding of what I am about to say.  All you really need to do is go to Google, type in the name, and prepare to feel nauseous. 

Since it is dry season in Zambia right now, tourists are allowed to swim in the Devil’s Pool, which is basically a little section of water at the lip of Victoria Falls.  I’m talking lip. Like I can see down the fall lip.  Apparently, two years ago a guide died trying to save a tourist who was not an experienced swimmer, so I was feeling really safe… not!  The night before and the morning of, Emily and I were trying to do everything possible to back out of this adventure.  I thought I was going to VOM!  However, with the help of some people at home, my mom and friend, Andrew, I sucked it up and went.  Since I had not talked to my mom much during the trip, she didn’t know how badly I wanted to back out.  I woke that morning to a Facebook message about how I would be fine, safe, and have so much fun… Mom says it’s ok, it must be!  I also had a comment from Andrew asking if I had gone to Devil’s Pool.  I even responded no and that I wasn’t going because I was too afraid.  Afterwards though, I just kept thinking about these comments and realized I would regret it if I didn’t go…I went!  Let me tell you, I would have regretted it if I hadn’t gone.  It was amazing, scary, nauseating and rewarding all in one.  I don’t currently have enough time to go into great detail about this, so if you have questions, feel free to ask.

The rest of the afternoon, we lounged at a super fancy pool back in Zim.  We were told that we could not visit the pool because we weren’t guests, but working the puppy eyes and the volunteer card, we managed to convince a softie to let us in.  He told us that if anybody was to ask, we were on a sight inspection for Wilderness Safaris, an organization in Namibia. SCORE!  Pool time and buffet.  :) We were happy, happy, happy!  Our waiter’s name was even Simba.  Does it get much better than that?!  The night ended with us back in Zambia, packing for our flight home.

Tuesday & Wednesday: To sum up these two days quickly… 5 taxi rides. 2 airplanes. 1 combi. A LOT OF MILES TRAVELLED! A LOT OF SWEATING!

That’s the bulk of the trip though. It was awesome. It was beautiful. It was needed. It was good for the soul!

Below is a link to my Facebook photos: (hopefully this works)

PHOTOS

Trying times in the final stretch

These past couple weeks have been a struggle.  Like a big struggle.  Tug a war style where my mind, body, and emotions are going back and forth throughout the day.  I can pretty much pinpoint when each set of emotions will start.  In the mornings, I want to be at home in Texas in a nice bed.  By the time 1^st period starts, I’m in full swing with my learners and can’t imagine saying goodbye to them.  After school, I hit this wall of heat (literally), which leads to the intense part of my daily roller coaster ride.  After working out, I get excited about all of the things waiting for me at home.  I think this is because all of my US friends are waking up at this point and starting their days.  However, after I eat dinner, which is usually when my US friends start going to work, I panic.  This anxiety takes over my body, and I stupidly attempt to work on my resume, search jobs without wifi, and determine my future plans.  To say I’m overwhelmed would be an understatement.  I find my mind running in 50 different directions and occasionally, it is hard to breathe.  I’m going home to no job, no saved money, no boyfriend, and currently no style.  Basically, society will reject me.  They will swallow me up and spit me out.

I think with all of these emotions coursing through my body though, I am having a more difficult time truly being in Namibia.  It is difficult for me to be in the present, and I find myself getting annoyed by things more easily.  I am not able to brush off the actions around me as quickly, and rather, I find myself reaching for my suitcase.

I have had several situations present themselves in the last couple weeks that have made Namibia a little more difficult again and on top of that, I still wonder if I’ve taught these students anything, but this is not how I want my time in this country to end.  I don’t want to leave on a low point.  It is difficult enough that my last few weeks will consist of marking exams, so I really don’t want any other negative situations creeping into my day.

Basically, I’m writing all of this to ask for your prayers.  I ask that you would pray for me and my mental/emotional state these last four weeks, so that I can truly absorb all of the blessings that God has washed upon me.  I personally pray for patience during the workday, but more importantly, at the homestead.  I also pray that my students know how deeply I love them.

Returning To and Leaving Behind

As I start my eleventh month here in Namibia, I start to imagine all of the things that I will be going home to.  Things that I have not experienced in ELEVEN WHOLE MONTHS!  Thinks I crave.  Things I anxiously await.  Things I miss.  Here is a short list of what I am currently looking forward to in the next month.

1. Church
2. Driving anywhere/everywhere (unfortunately, I sold my car so this one will have to wait a bit longer)
3. The gym
4. Snuggly pups
5. Being anonymous
6. Being ignored by 75% of the male population
7. Chipotle
8. Having someone to turn to daily for deep conversation
9. Whole Foods
10. Almond EVERYTHING (nuts, flour, milk, ice cream)

With that list though of course comes a list of things I cannot believe that I will be leaving behind.  Things that I will miss greatly.  Things that my soul will long for in a deep way.  Things I may never experience again in my life.  Here is a short list of what I know for a fact that I will miss once I return home.

1. My beautiful ninth grade learners
2. The easiness/cheapness of seeing a country
3. This simplicity of life
4. Conversations with goats, cows, chickens (I confess, I daily speak with these animals either out loud or in my head.  No, I am not crazy)
5. Smiling, happy children who do not need to be entertained by electronics
6. Not being anonymous (bittersweet one)
7. Being blown away by the strength of these learners
8. Biltong (similar to beef jerky, but a million times more delicious)
9. Embe (a traditional berry)
10. BASKETS!

An honest answer; a kiss on the lips

"When someone mistreats you try to view it as an opportunity to grow in grace.  See how quickly you can forgive the one who has wounded you."
-Jesus Calling-

I held these words deeply to my heart last night as I was presented with a situation on the homestead that was incredibly upsetting and hurtful.  As many people know, I consider myself to be close with my homestead brothers and sister.  We have shared stories together, we have laughed together, we have been educated together, and we have gone to town together.  I honestly considered them to be my family away from home, doting on them and taking care of them just like I would if I had a younger brother or sister in America.

A couple weeks ago, I was made aware that one of my brothers had lied to me about his age and some other personal matters that are not mine to share on the World Wide Web.  I was really confused by the age thing, but I wrote it off as him being embarrassed that we are only one year apart and that he is still in school.  I wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he had been honest and told me he was 22 though.  This is Namibia and many of my students are close to my age.  Therefore, I was a little bit offended that he lied about that and never thought to tell me the truth.

Last night however, another lie surfaced that pushed me over.  My homestead sister had told me that her birthday was in August and that she was turning 14.  Considering one of my love languages is giving, I set out during my holiday to find a gift that was suitable and practical for a girl schooling in the village.  Unfortunately, I found out last night that her birthday is actually in November and that she will be turning 16.  SLAP IN THE FACE!  What just happened?!  You mean I bought a gift for a birthday that didn’t even exist?! To hear those words spoken felt like the wind had been knocked out of me.

When I found all of this out, I had to leave the kids immediately because I was just too furious to look at them.  I walked home, grabbed my running shoes, put on some Skrillex, and set out to process this lie and a few others with a run.  After returning home, I spoke with the "kids" about how hurt and upset I was.  I got excuse after excuse, which honestly hurt me more.  I am a person that is very honest, sometimes too honest, so to still be misinformed added to the pain.  I asked the students to leave knowing that I would need a couple days to myself.

Now, I know that I will forgive them.  In many ways, I already have.  They still have such a strong hold on my heartstrings, but for a little while, I just wanted to be upset at their behavior.  I’m sure that is childish, but it was how I felt.  Having this happen, I questioned what I was actually doing here.  I had helped other students out at school; my parents had organized a scholarship for the learners in my life.  I began to wonder if those students had also lied to me.  Had I been played?  I honestly will never know; how can I?  I’m praying and trusting in God that the things I have done have been for a valid reason.  Ultimately, I need to remember that no matter what, many of these children do need my help, so any time or help I have given them was ultimately worth it.

"An honest answer is like a kiss on the lips."

-Proverbs 24:26-

A day being "married"

A glimpse into my Friday:

We have End of Service in Tsumeb this weekend, which means transportation is arranged for us.  However, instead of getting picked up in the village or at a building, I was told to meet on the side of the B1 (the main road going from Oshikango) in order to meet three of the other volunteers and the Ministry of Education transportation. 

Before getting there, I knew how this would play out.  Taxi drivers would want me to ride with them.  People passing by would want to talk.  A few proposals of love/friendship/marriage would take place.  Just so you know, Namibia DOES NOT DISAPPOINT!  I received all of the above.

In a matter of two minutes, two people had already asked for my number, cat called me, and inquired about what the heck I was doing on the side of the road.  The number continued to increase as the minutes did.  So that you understand how all of this played out, let me share with you a conversation that took place.  I want all of y’all to partake in the fun that I call transport in Namibz!

Man in nice bakkie (truck): Hello, sister.  How are you?

Me: I’m fine.

Man: Where are you going? Do you work here?

Me: I’m going to Tsumeb for work.  I teach in Odibo.  (Before you all freak out that I gave out personal information, this is Namibia it aint no thang).

Man: Ok, I will come visit you in Odibo some day (drives away).

5 minutes pass.  The man in the nice bakkie returns.

Man: (rolls down window) So, is it ok if I come visit you in Odibo?

Me: (eye roll, why are you back?) Ummm no.

Man: Why?

Me: I’m married (Flash ring given to me for graduation- Thanks, Mom and Dad).

Man: Oh, oh. I’m so sorry.  I actually respect that (first man to say that to me here).  Where is your husband?

Me: At home.

Man: Oh, not good.  

Me: It's only for two more months.

Man: Ok, well have a nice day then.

End scene.

Being fake married has never been so rewarding.  My fake husband has come in handy in several different situations since living here.  He has protected me and helped me in awkward or uncomfortable situations, but before y’all think I go around telling everyone I’m married, it is only done in times when I can’t handle the obnoxious proposals.  All of my coworkers, students, and my favorite taxi driver know that I’m unattached.

Discipline the Ms. Mac Way

“Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.” (Proverbs 22:6)

Last week, two students walked to the back of the library where I keep my work supplies and sports equipment.  Wrapped up in a rubber band was a black jump rope.  The smaller boy asked me what it was and I proceeded to explain the concept to him.  In actuality, he knew what it was, but before making the connection, he told me that he thought it was used for beating.  My students know that I do not believe in physical discipline, which lead me to ask them a question I already knew the answer to: “have you ever seen me beat someone?”  At this point, my older boy stepped in and replied with a very nonchalant, “no and I don’t understand why.”

Today, a week later, I witnessed a punishment I was not in favor of and in fact believe was inappropriate and extreme.  At the beginning, these acts made me upset, but as time passes, these actions only piss me off.  They make me so mad that all my body can think is that I need to go for a run now now so that I don’t do something stupid.  One of my learners who knows me very well could tell that I was not pleased with what I witnessed, so he brought up the topic.  Without going into great detail, I explained to him that I don’t think it is right to beat a child for do something wrong.  His response… “Miss, you can’t let it affect you, you can’t change it.  That’s how it is…”  And with those words, I thought two things. One, why can’t I change it?  Two, there’s now another generation growing up to believe that school learners SHOULD be physically punished for their actions.

As I mentioned before, my students know that I will not beat them.  Do I lose some control over them because of that?  I do, but for me it is worth it.  The thing is though, I don’t think my learners truly understand why physically inflicting pain on them is not an option for me.  Therefore, I’m writing this entry to explain why that is, even if my students may never find access to this website…

Where to start?  Let me go back to the bible verse I posted at the beginning.  Although I know this verse is referring to Jesus, the church, and fellowship, it can also apply to many aspects of life.  The way a child is brought up will determine the way he behaves as he is older.  What a child is taught at a young age will continue into his or her later years of life.  Knowing that, and knowing the affects that physical punishments have on children, I do not believe physical violence is the key to teaching children to behave appropriately.  Studies have proven that corporal punishment or “physical punishment” allows children to see violence as a way of solving problems.  The way we punish our children and students at a young age more often than not leads to the way they handle personal situations once they become old enough to process issues on their own.  If that is indeed true, I want to train a child in the proper way to go.  I do not want to see or hear that my children are solving their problems with violence.

Secondly, I was not raised in a home where verbal or physical punishment was really used.  Does that mean I was a perfect little angel?  I like to say yes, but my mother will definitely tell you otherwise…I was a terror child.  Does that mean that I went 23 years without a spanking from a parent?  Nope, we had a good pal called Donald Duck to do that.  Did all of this happen a lot in the McLaughlin household though?  No because it wasn’t really the nature our family thrived in.  Because of that, I can tell you that whenever I was mad, upset, angry, name any negative emotion, the thing that helped me to calm down the most was love.  I needed to know or feel love.  Still to this day, if I get into a fight with someone and we lash out at each other, the thing I want most is to feel loved.  I want that hug that tells me we will make it through; that “I’m sorry and everything will be ok.”  For me, and many other people, I respond better to speech: talking things through, explaining the issue, working out a solution, determining what I could have done to handle the situation better?  Since I know this about myself, I’d prefer to apply it in the lives of my students.  They are not as exposed to this style of discipline and problem solving, which is why I continuously implement it into my class.  If I see a student struggling or acting out, I take them aside and discuss the issue.  What good does it do me to beat them if I do not know why they are doing something in the first place?

Lastly, this verse is extreme, but here it goes… “But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believes in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matthew 18:2-6).  Ultimately, my students are my brothers and sisters in Christ.  Not only am I their teacher, but I am here to love them the way God loves them.  I am here in this country to show Christ’s love to the nations, and for me, that is through hugs, sweets, stickers, big smiles, and finding a way to make something super serious or upsetting a little less traumatic.

A Penny for your (Thursday) Thoughts?

Ok, so this isn’t really thoughts so much as some simple updates on the shenanigans that have been happening this week.  Basically, Namibia is getting hotter and hotter each and every day.  Don’t ever let me complain about Texas heat again.  So that you understand, let me paint you a picture… Imagine a hot, Texas summer day.  I’m talking in the 100s.  The humidity is lower, but the sun is beating down with some of the strongest rays in the world.  Now subtract the air conditioning in your house, car, shops, etc. that you eagerly run to in order to escape the dreadful sauna you are constantly walking in.  That is Namibian life…  I’m honestly still amazed that I continue to stay fully clothed, because let’s face it, naked is the way to go.  My students have been suffering due to the heat, and since they have such strict uniform rules, they are doing as much as possible to stay cool without getting in trouble, like unbuttoning their shirts below their chest bone whenever a teacher isn't around.  That gem came from my homestead brother’s brother.  A Namibian Rico Suave.

Either way, this week we have had a couple rainy nights, which has been so nice.  I’m talking loud, rolling thunder accompanied by lightning.  Unfortunately, when it pours, some water does get in the house, but that’s ok.  The land needs it, as do the families in the community.  With my tin roof, it gets super loud and it’s like the whole rain experience is heightened.  Sadly, rain means more bugs in the house.  Last night, I had a war with some June bugs because they would not stop swarming my head as I was trying to get to sleep.  Picture this: crazy, spastic girl sitting in her bed on the phone as bugs dart past her.  All of a sudden, the bug is in her shirt, trapped in her bosom area.  Squeals were made for sure. 

In other news, we officially started booking stuff for our South Africa trip in December.  Can we say surreal?  I can’t even believe that this chapter of my life is almost over.  Speaking of almost over, I have never felt something so incredibly bittersweet in my life.  As much as I am excited to get back home, see all of y’all, and do random things, I can’t even imagine saying goodbye to these students.  They always say that when you go somewhere, you end up getting more than you give, and this experience is no exception.  These kids have given me so much!  Words cannot even begin to explain it all.  The tears will be rolling on the last day with them.  Just thinking about it makes my heart ache.  Expect a somewhat depressed Taylor and an overload of African stories from this girl for the first month after I return.

Lastly, I was walking to school today, a small boy, probably around 2, was pooping outside.  His father, being the good father that he is, was monitoring and making sure he had the proper squat stance.  Only here!

Wedding Bells...or chants

So I was able to attend my first and probably last Namibian wedding this previous weekend.  Before I explain what all I saw and experienced, let me give a brief description on Namibian weddings based on what I have learned/been told.  Basically, weddings here are two days long.  On the first day, the actual wedding ceremony takes place.  From what I understand, this is very similar to our American wedding ceremonies.  Following the ceremony, people go to the bride’s family.  At this point, hundreds of people come to celebrate the couple (No invite needed. Heck you may not even know the couple), partake in traditional dancing and chanting, and eat a lot of food.  The following day, they do the exact same thing at the groom’s family with more food and possibly different people.

The portion of the Namibian wedding I attended I was the party on the groom’s side, which took place on Sunday.  I’m not 100% sure how Doctor is affiliated with the groom, but this is Namibia and everyone knows everyone somehow.  So basically, Sunday afternoon around 4, three of us piled into the bakki (me, Doctor, and his cousin Patrick) and headed to a neighboring village.  Doctor thought we may be late, but once we arrived, we learned that we were not.  In fact, the party hadn’t even really started yet.  There were a lot of people there, but the bride and groom still had not shown up.  At this point, we headed into the homestead and the guys greeted friends and other people they recognized.  Shortly after, we sat and waited for things to get rolling.  We had some meat and the guys were catching up and talking about past times (that’s what I was told, but I couldn’t tell you for sure because it was not English).

After about an hour, we left the homestead fence and walked to a big tree where people were crowding.  At this specific site, the bride and groom were seated with their wedding party close by.  Older memes were chanting and singing songs, and small girls were performing traditional dances.  This went on for about 30-45 minutes until the bride and groom stood along with a banner announcing their marriage and proceeded towards the feasting tent.  The couple walked around the homestead as guests followed closely chanting and dancing.  As they finished their rounds, they made their way into the tent, guests following behind.  Once in, there was music, food, and of course drinks.  For us, the night ended pretty early because I was tired, there was work the next day, and Doctor had to drive back to Omungwelume.

All in all, it was an interesting event, and although I was exhausted and a bit dehydrated, I’m glad I was able to experience this event before leaving Namibia.  In the future though, I will stick with a more intimate wedding ceremony. 

Michael Immanuel

In July, I introduced you to one of my students in an entry called A Learner's Dedication.  Today, I want to dig deeper and share more details on this student, Michael.

Michael on the left posing for some iPhone shots

As Michael sits in the back of the class, he towers over all of the other learners.  At about 6 feet tall, Michael doesn’t just surpass most of the students in height though; he also surpasses them in age.  At 21 years old, Michael is one of my oldest 9^th grade students. 

From the start of term 2, I knew that Michael was going to excel in my class, but I did not know how deeply he would affect my life.  I do not like to admit that I have favorite students, but if I am honest, I do, and Michael is one of them.  Since arriving at Odibo CS, Michael has gone above and beyond to assist me in class, better his education, and inquire about the world.  On a daily basis, Michael greets me and asks how the morning is.  If I ever need a helping hand, I know that I can trust him to get the job done.  On top of that, he respects me as a teacher even though I am only 2 years older than him.

At the start of the year, I was curious as to why Michael was so much older than the other students.  I know that several students are close in age, and many have failed different grades throughout their schooling.  However, I knew that this could not be possible for Michael.  Something about his work ethic and mannerisms allowed me to know that he indeed had not failed school.  As time has passed, I have gotten closer with Michael and have been exposed to more and more of his story.  Through a scholarship that my parents have put together, I was able to get a more detailed story on Michael’s education.  Below is a revised essay that he submitted and has given me permission to share.  I have added in some information in order to clarify some details:

…………………………

I was born in 1992, but I started school late.  2004 is when I started school; I was twelve years old.  It was very shameful for me to start school so late because I was too old to be in grade one.  This was not my own fault, but happened because my parents failed to take me to school earlier due to their own lack of education.  They are both illiterate.

One day though, my uncle asked my parents if it was possible for him to take me to his house in order to go to school there.  My father agreed, so I moved.  For almost seven years, I was schooling there, but in 2011, the situation between my uncle’s wife and me was not always good.  I moved to Odibo to stay at my father’s house.  I have never failed a grade in my life, but unfortunately I missed one grade in 2011 because I was enrolled in a private school that was too expensive for my family and me.  I was chased out in February 2011 because my father could not afford to pay the fee.

Since 2011, I have not been helped by either of my parents.  When I restarted my schooling in 2012, last year, I had to pay for my own school fees, school uniform, and school materials by myself.  Since I am older, my parents believe that I am old enough to fight for my own life and needs.

…………………………

Michael went on to explain that he comes from a family of nine kids, many of which have different mothers, and since he is the first-born, he has to take care of himself.

Knowing Michael’s personality and story, I felt moved to share it with all of y’all.  At 21, Michael has not given up on his education, but instead continues to push himself more and more each day.  Instead of having a bad attitude about being too old for class, he acts as a leader for the younger students, constantly showing them what it means to respect others and to persevere.  Hear it from me, his English teacher; Michael will become someone in his life!  He will better his circumstances, support his family, and do great things.  There is no doubt in my mind that Michael will excel.  With a brain as inquisitive as his, a heart as large, and a dedication as strong, he will do amazing things.

Doctor, Doctor give me some news

I’ve been having some medical issues ever since my last holiday.  I could probably blame it on a lot of things: the heat, lack of clean water, or never knowing when or if I am ingesting gluten.  The thing is, and many people may know this already, I am a little skeptical of doctors.  After having spent hours, days, and years going from doctor to doctor about brain tumors, chronic headaches, and gluten intolerance, I’ve heard and seen a lot.  I’ve even experienced my fair share of types of doctors: neurologist, neurosurgeons, orthopedists, plastic surgeons, and holistic doctors.  To sum it all up, I’ve spent a lot of time in medical facilities, which has led me to only go when I feel things are very serious.

Fast forward to the present date.  I’m currently facing some nausea and other intestinal problems, which at home I would just brush off and continue on with my day.  Here however, it is harder to ignore because of lack of cleanliness, air conditioned relaxation, and over the counter medicines.  There has been this silly thought of “oh my gosh, I’m gonna die before I get home” continuously playing in my head.  Dramatic, of course, but I live alone 75% of the time!  Therefore, I had to finally take action.

After missing work on Monday and still feeling a little “weird” throughout the week, I decided to head to Ongwediva to meet with a doctor.  Another volunteer who also does not have running water contracted a parasite, so I wanted to get that checked out before it was too late.  When I arrived in Diva, I waited a nice two hours at the doctor.  I’m still not 100% sure how the system works since it was first come first serve, but people were definitely going in before me that were not there before me.  Either way, when I finally met with the doctor, my skepticism flared up more than usual.  As far as doctors go, he was nice and comforting, but he was lacking a sort of assertiveness in his position.  The doctor sat behind his nice desk, asked me questions, and I shared my concerns…yes, self-diagnosing myself, which is every medical professional’s favorite thing.  This doctor did not seem to mind though because he gave me a thermometer and then filled out lab work for me to complete for exactly what I told him I thought could be wrong.  FYI over share: some nice blood work and a stool sample…GREAT I thought, I just took something to make me stop going!  Needless to say, I will be making a trip back on Tuesday because some things did not go according to plan.  Hopefully the lab results come back quickly and then everything goes well from there.  With this constant sauna surrounding me, feeling sick or under the weather is far from enjoyable.

A Reminder to Self

There is one important thing I’ve been trying to prepare myself for upon my return, and that is this:  I have changed, but that does not mean everyone at home has.  I cannot go home and expect others to have radically altered lives just because I now do.  I cannot get upset or angry because of materialism and lack of awareness of others.  Just because my awareness is now heightened to all of these things, I cannot put the same expectations on others.  I am the one who decided and agreed to uproot my life, which means I cannot expect others to be on the same page as me.  I can hope for understanding and a desire for continuous self-improvement, but I cannot expect others to drastically change the way they are living now that I am home again.

It's a big, big world

I’ve come to the conclusion that no matter where I live, I will constantly be seeking out a new adventure.  I will be craving the next big trip I take to a new, foreign place.  Even though I live in a very different country, a place where many people have never been or possibly even heard of, I find myself fantasizing about other unique, distant places.  For awhile, I felt bad because I was looking forward to the next chapter, which in some people’s minds clearly means I’m ready to leave Namibia, but as I gave more thought to all of this, I realized it doesn’t mean that at all.  I have loved my year abroad and I have made relationships that I will miss more than words.  However, I am slowly realizing that God has wired me to crave the beauty he has created in others, whether it is through their cultural activities, personality, landmarks, etc.  No matter where I am, I will always be interested in others’ lives and mind processes.  Ultimately, I have a love for the nations and their artwork, which I am beginning to understand is one of the several gifts God has blessed me with.

I have often wondered how other people feel about traveling and to what extent they desire it though.  I have met many people who want to travel, but I have only met a handful that I would put on the same level as me (not that I am some superior traveler).  This level is difficult to describe, but in a simple explanation, it is a person who feels most alive when exploring and experiencing new things.  It is a person that puts travel and adventure close to daily things like eating, even if they are not capable of doing said action daily. Not ironically, these people are individuals that I have met while traveling the world.  They are roommates I spent hours exploring Italy with, they are random people I met at hostels and later became friends with, and they are other volunteers that I am currently teaching with.

Basically, the more I leave my comfortable home in Texas, the more I learn and truly begin to live.  I've discovered that although not every destination is as glamorous as the next, in some way each one is unique and adds a piece to this puzzle I call my life.  As time passes, I am learning that "my favorite thing is to go where I've never been."  To explore.  To stand in a country completely confused and dependent on others.  To see that in the end, we all breathe, think, and face the same struggles.  We were all created by the same God to love each other and to love His son.