Hatching Eggs

Change is our responsibility. I realize that more and more as I am here in Namibia. It is up to us to change some of the situations that we are in. I don't say that in a God is not in control type of way, I say it because I think He gives us all the signs and tells us to flee, but so often we ignore him. By being in a foreign country for a year though, I've been able to take a step back from the crazy American life that I was living and understand more clearly about my responsibilities when it comes to getting rid  of the things in life that are not making me a better person. Maybe they never have, maybe they just no longer do. This year provides for the perfect opportunity to do that. I can really stop and evaluate different aspects of my life that need improvement and begin the long cleansing process. Some are traits in myself that I do not like, some are people who are holding me back, others include situations where I know I will fall short of the person I was intended to be.  I say all of this, but I know how incredibly hard it is to follow through with such things.  It is hard to change.  It is hard to get rid of things that I cling to even if they are bad or unhealthy for me.  It is hard.  Again though, that is why we have God.  He may point us in all the right directions and make it very apparent that change is needed, but he doesn't stop there.  He doesn't say, "Ok change.  Peace out, I'll see you when you complete this task."  Instead, He is there for the whole process.  He knows it will be hard, and He expects us to face troubles along the way, but He makes it very clear that He too will be going through the process with us.  When we turn to Him, we are a team.  A team with the most powerful, considerate leader.

I leave you with a quote from C.S Lewis about change:

"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg.  We are like eggs at present.  And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg.  We must be hatched or go bad."

Family and Friends

Term two has brought about so many different blessings.  I was blessed in term one, but these newer blessings are different.  They are the ones that will allow me to go home completely in love with my year abroad.  They are providing me with more memories and relationships that will last a lifetime. Although I have known how incredibly blessed I am by my new living arrangements, they were made even more obvious this weekend as I had 8 visitors in Odibo.  A bunch of volunteers made the trek even farther north to come see Oshikango and my village.  My homestead family was incredibly welcoming and loving.  As we arrived to the house, the kids were all there to greet us and help with our bags.  I think Henry, Vistorina, Nataniel, Martha, and a couple other girls were amazed by all of the people and probably the fact that Ms. Mac actually has friends.  The boys were making sure that we had water all weekend, they were ready to take us for a walk to Angola if we wanted it, and they were always there to share a pleasant greeting when we went outside.  Vistorina and the girls helped to get us some additional silverware and provided us with a performance of Owambo cultural dancing, which was one of the biggest highlights of my weekend.  On top of that, another lady on the homestead gave up her bed for the volunteers to borrow.  Her and Henry carried the mattress to my house and everyone was able to sleep comfortably both nights.

The hospitality of the Owambo tribe is something that I definitely want to take home with me.  They are so giving and warm, and no matter how many times you say that everything is fine as it is, they go above and beyond and make things better.  The best example of this was the mattress.  Although we told them that we were fine, they insisted that we take it because my friends were guests and they respected that.  Have you ever seen such great hospitality?  This lady gave up her bed, carried it to my house, and slept on a different bed, all because I had guests.  It was heart warming indeed.  One of the sweetest things I heard all weekend though came from Henry.  The first night everyone was there, Henry came into the house trying to remember peoples’ names.  He then proceeded to tell me, “Ms. they are all so happy.  They’re all so happy to be here with you.”  My heart was full.  I had my Namibian friends and I had my Namibian family.

Reflections

I’ve spent a lot of days thinking about my return home.  Although it is still far off, I’ve anticipated the day that I am reunited with my family and friends.  As term 2 begins to come to an end though, my anticipation is being placed somewhere else, and it is bringing out new emotions and events I had not allowed myself to think about.  At some point, I will leave this country.  I have already made the decision that after my one-year contract I will return back to America for a bit, so I will indeed be leaving.  I will be leaving 92 beautiful 9^th graders behind me.  I will be saying goodbye to my sweet homestead brother and sister.  I will part from my movie watching days with my 7^th grade neighbor, Martha.  Because I had not really thought about these events much prior to this week, I was not aware of how incredibly much this country has impacted me and changed me.  I have mentioned before that I have learned a lot, and I also know that I have changed immensely, but this country now runs deep inside of me, permanently a part of my mind, body, and soul.  These children and young adults have molded me into an English teacher.  They have welcomed me into their homes and lives.  They have showed me respect that I never thought imaginable.  They have made me feel like a million bucks, an incredibly deep and moving feeling that I have honestly never felt before coming to Namibia.  And the beauty behind it all is that they did not do these things for me because they had to.  They did not give me gifts or money.  They have given me love through their words, both verbal and written, and through their actions.

Casualties

“Please take this paper work and go to casualties,” says the lady working the desk.

Um, the what?  I don’t want to be in the casualties’ wing of this hospital!  Turns out the word casualties has a different meaning here.  I’m still not 100% sure what that is, but fortunately it did not seem to have the same meaning as it does for us back home.  I was able to get checked out by the doctor, get prescribed medicine, and avoid the casualties that we Americans know of.  It was an interesting moment though because I was already secretly longing for my mom and unsure about how the medical system would work here.

It’s funny though, I can move half way across the world, but the second I am “sick” all I want is to be home or to have my mom, my personal nurse, here with me.  I've spent my fair share of time in and out of the doctor's office, but today in an African hospital I was not nearly as brave. Universally, the layout is the same so there was no reason to be unsure, but I was. There were neutral colored walls, a TV on the wall, interesting artwork, and chairs that must be specially designed for medical offices. Paper work was a little bit different, but overall it was the same confusing questions I hate to answer. 

Fortunately, the doctor saw me quickly and what he suggested was simple enough, minus the fact that I am now broke!  Technically you have to do what you have to do though, and I am more than lucky that my “problem” was so small.  Knock on wood, I did not have to go for malaria, the flu, or some other bug that could make life a little miserable, but only for intestinal problems, which the doctor says can be a result of changing environments and a change in diet. 

As an additional note, I was blessed to have a mom that stayed awake until 4am her time waiting for me to finish at the doctor. She was available to comfort and pray for me throughout the whole thing, and for that, I am so incredibly grateful. On top of that, which I mentioned before, there were no casualties that I know of today.

A Learner's Dedication

Things work so differently here in this country.  Students seem to tend to most of the house chores, they sometimes live alone, and they have responsibilities I never could have imagined having at their age. Here's just a small glimpse into one of those moments.

Last Wednesday, I found out that one of my learners has been living alone in a house. Now, he is 20 years old, but he is still in 9th grade and needs the support of his family. His father is working in a different town and does not send money often, and his mom is doing the same. He lives in his stepmother's home, but she is not around.

This one boy is by far one of my best students. He is polite, interactive, does all his work, and gets high marks. He seriously makes class fun and so much brighter.  I would never be able to guess that he is suffering in some way. When I asked if there was any way I could help him though, he did not give me a long list of things he needed like food, clothes, etc.  Instead, he asked for something so simple and so pure… help with his school fees. For each term, students are required to pay 60 ND. That means 180 per year, about $18 USD. If they do not pay, they do not get their marks and will not be promoted to the next grade. As his teacher, my heart was overwhelmed by his one request, making me feel even more blessed to have him as a student. He could have asked for so much more.  He could have asked for something that probably was more vital (i.e. food).  He could have asked for something that would enjoyably pass the time (i.e. soccer ball).  But when I asked what he wanted help with, all he said was “Ms., my school fees.”

Side note: After writing this blog, today (Monday), this student gave an announcement to the school and these were his words before starting…

“I will speak in English because I do not think it is good to speak Oshikwanyama when our one teacher here does not understand.”

My heart was so full because as some of you know, most assemblies are not discussed in English.  It was incredibly heart warming to have him say this.  It showed me so much respect, and he probably has no idea how much that meant to me.

Thanksgiving

Being here continuously reminds me of how incredibly blessed I am.  Although times are difficult throughout the week, and I am homesick for family and friends, I have learned so much about others and myself since being here.  The support that I receive on a daily basis is mind blowing, and prior to coming here, I had no idea that I could potentially be showered with so much love.  With that said, my book fundraising has been a huge success!  Through youcaring.com, I have been able to receive about $400 thus far.  On top of that, I have graciously received large donations from others too, some for personal use and others for my books, bringing my estimated fundraising to almost $4,000 USD.  These kids are going to go crazy with the possibility of reading different stories, and I cannot wait to see their faces as they are presented with such a large sum of books and a pretty library (aka large closet). 

At this point, the “library” is cluttered with desks, chairs, and broken shelves.  Everything is covered in dust.  So starting next week, I will begin the process of cleaning that bad boy out.  I am hoping to get some large boys (aka teenagers) to help move the desks, and then a broom and wet cloth will be my new best friends!  I am so excited to see the final process, and I promise to share pictures as soon as things are finished.

Saying thank you never really seems like enough, but I want to say thank you again to all of you who have loved on me.  Additional shout outs to those of you who have prayed for me or donated to my cause:

Amanda and Mark Oberstoetter

Kelsey Stultz

Hennah Iqbal

Alex Scheibner

Stasi Boatwright

Andrew Utz

Lisa McLaughlin

LaVonne Walter

Ali Pammar

Susan Sternberg

Cheryl & Danny Wells

West Newton Presbyterian Women

Joseph & Mary Parker

Rita Clendenning

Phyllis Lanham

Carol Dansak

Violet Pore

Daryl Vijuk

Sewickley United Presbyterian Church

And a HUGE thank you to:

Parkway United Methodist Church and Wood Mackenzie

My cup runneth over!

Community

As time passes, I am starting to understand more deeply the importance of community.  It is so incredibly vital to have people that are equally yoked with you in your life.  People that are pushing you to run to the Father.  People that are praying with you.  People that want your relationship with the Savior to be prominent in your every day life.  You really can’t do this life thing without others.  There are too many temptations surrounding this world, and too many days when Satan’s voice is coming in louder than God’s. 

I honestly thought that I would move to Africa and grow closer with God.  I thought this was the perfect opportunity to develop that relationship more, which obviously it is (all situations are the right time), but it is much harder than I ever could have thought imaginable.  I see him in all sorts of situations, but if I’m incredibly honest, I am bad at seeking him out as often as I should and would like to.  Yes, I seek him and without him, I would not still be in this country, but I miss him.  On Sundays, I have this longing ache for him and for his family.  This is an ache and pain I’ve probably never known.  It is an ache where I wish I could physically hold on to him and cry on his shoulder, while he tells me that everything will be ok and that I can do this.  That feeling though, that feeling is one of the many reasons I think he sent us his son.  That is why he calls us into community, because although I cannot physically grab a hold of his hand, I can run to another one of his sons or daughters for support. 

Thankfully, my school starts every morning off with a prayer, so although I pray on my way through the village, I get another opportunity to pray once more before I go to class.   Some days it is in Oshiwambo and I silently talk with God on my own, but other days, I get a small taste of that fellowship as a coworker leads the school in prayer. All of this though is to say, I miss community.  I miss living in fellowship with other believers and having people challenge me without trying to change my thoughts and beliefs.

The Fourth Not in America

Turns out Fourth of July can bring a girl to her greatest homesickness. Every week I long for home, but this time it was even more than usual. People were updating their statuses about their celebrations, American pride was in full force, and my sister sent me a family picture that I was not a part of. It was so great to see them in their red, white, and blue, but that was another awakening moment for me. I'm not in America. I'm not with my family. Seriously, all I wanted to do was blare country music, put on boots, and eat a fat burger made by my dad, which if you know me well, the first two were not my preferences pre Namibia life. 

On top of that, some pretty important events are happening in the month of July. Many people are getting married in the next couple of days and weeks, one of them being one of my best friends. In addition, Amanda will be starting a new chapter in her life and I won't be able to celebrate with her at happy hour with a delicious margarita (margarita, not prego before you crazies get any ideas). 

Fortunately though, a group of Americans in any country know how to celebrate their country's freedom and birth in style. With that said, I spent the weekend around Ongwediva with old and new volunteers, appreciating the beauty and the greatness of America. There were no fireworks, but there was some red, white, and blue, and also some hamburgers, cookies, and sweet dance moves. It was a great way to transition into a couple more weekends in the village. 

Returning to Kunene

On Sunday, I celebrated my 6-month anniversary in Namibia. I was at the Kunene River with 3 other volunteers and 3 guys who have become great friends. It was the best way to acknowledge the time spent in this country, and it provided with stories that will last a lifetime. This blog entry won't even be able to do the stories justice though because there are so many small details to write about. 

On Friday, I left Odibo with another teacher to meet up with volunteers in Ongwediva. From there, we drove up to the Kunene to stay at Jan's river house for the night. While there, we braaied dinner and celebrated Jan's 29th birthday. The night went late as we caught up and celebrated, and we ended the evening sleeping under the stars. Although it was chilly, it was one of the best nights of sleep I have had in a long time. 

The following day, the girls woke up and cooked breakfast as the men took one of the bakkis to Johnny's camp. Around 12, we got on the river to canoe 33km down the Kunene. Fortunately, I was in a boat of three people so my rowing skills were limited. Lucky for the people in my boat because I do not have any experience. Sometimes it went ok when I was participating, but other times it resulted in us going a little and then ending up in a circle. Let's just say I won't be entering any races anytime soon. 

While on the river, we spent a lot of time relaxing and eating. It was great until about 3:30 when we realized we were only about halfway. Namibia is getting dark around 5:40 these days and since we were in the wilderness, there were no additional lights to help guide us. On top of that, only one person had their torch. We pushed forward, getting much more serious about our boating. However, at around 5:30, we had to cut the trip short and pull over on land. From there, two of the guys walked/ran 9km to Johnny's camp to get the car. Unfortunately, they did not have the keys, which led to more of an adventure. Jan borrowed some china shop looking motorbike and drove back to his place to get the keys. During all of their excitement, the girls and Johnny were hanging out by the river with a fire, wet clothes, and food for about 2.5 hours. I can't really complain though because it was cozy. Eventually Jan made it back to us with the truck and we drove back to the camp. During this time, we got to see how far the guys really had to walk and I swear it is longer than 9km. I am so thankful they tackled that for us.  Once at camp, we braaied and finally ate dinner at midnight. 

The next day, Sunday, we all relaxed. We ate breakfast, hammocked, discussed our potential plans for when we return home, and had a delicious poikee (sp), which is similar to a soup/stew concoction. We got on the road around 5:30, getting me back to Odibo at 9:30. 

Overall, the weekend was amazing and so refreshing, especially after two straight weekends in the village. 

Side note: the Kunene River runs between the border of Angola and Namibia, so I got to go to Angola when I needed to relieve myself. Although I can't officially say I have been to Angola, I can now say I have been on Angolan soil.