Living in Namibia

Until you have lived in a house with a completely random family from a completely different culture you probably won’t understand the struggles that I face on a daily basis.  Each day I am challenged to remain patient, each day I fight to stay here in this country.  Living with others is hard.  Living with others that do not have the same level of cleanliness and respect for those they live with is even harder.  When I was told that I would be moving to Otjerunda, I was told that I would have two roommates.  Two roommates that I assumed would consist of two teachers.  I was wrong.  I was wrong about the two roommates, I was wrong about them being teachers.  Yes, I live with two teachers (one that I very rarely see), but I also live with their children, their siblings, their extended relatives, and occasionally one of the husbands.  My house is small, small like I can’t compare it to any home that I know of back in America.  I have seen kids in college (including myself) live in bigger spaces.  And in this small house, I have at least 5 students that are constantly in my way.  I don’t mean they are in the house so therefore they are in the way.  I mean they are literally in my way.  I can’t get into the bathroom when I need to, I can’t clean my dishes because they are slowly playing with the water, I can’t sit in my kitchen without being stared at or bothered.

I am envious of all of the other volunteers.  I am jealous that several of them live on their own.  I am jealous that their spaces are so big.  I am jealous that their roommates are close in age and don’t have children.  I am jealous that they can use their common spaces and are not secluded to their rooms.  I am just jealous, and I know that I was not sent to this country to have a jealous heart.  However, I can’t seem to help it.  I can’t seem to shake this constant overwhelming feeling of suffocation.  That I am trapped in this room.  I do not know how I got into this situation.  I do not know why God thought I was strong enough for this situation.  I long for home, like deep in my soul long for it.  At the same time though, I can’t leave this place.  I can’t pack my bags and say I quit because I refuse to fail.  I refuse to let Satan win this battle.  Unfortunately though, there is no solution.  There is no way to fix how I am living.  I have addressed the problems and even two days later they are still there.  They have not even pretended to try.  So for a year, a whole year, I will live like a visitor in someone else’s home.  For a year, I will be secluded to my bedroom.  For a year, I will live in ways that are unsanitary and that I would never wish upon anyone.  For a year, I will be completely out of control, which for me is ultimately the hardest thing ever because I love control.  I have been stripped down. I am so incredibly vulnerable that on most given days, I am amazed that I am still here.

Pray for my strength.  Pray that I begin to understand.  Pray that Satan does not win in the end of my journey.