Sunday, October 28, 2007
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Namibia-bound!
A couple weeks ago, I received my invitation to serve in Namibia with the Peace Corps. I will be leaving on October 29 to embark on a 27 month stint in southern Africa. Here's a map showing where I'll be. Details are slow in coming, for example, I won't know exactly what part of Namibia I will be living until sometime during the first two months of training, but here's what I know thus far:
~I will be a Health Extension Volunteer in a Community Health and HIV/AIDS program, working with either a government agency (like the Ministry of Health or Ministry of Youth in a particular community), an non-profit organization or a faith-based organization.
~While English is the national language of Namibia, it is not the first language for most, so I will be learning Afrikaans and another local language (otjihereo, oshiwambo and damara-nama might all be possibilities).
~After going through a two month training in language, culture, technical skills, etc., I will officially begin my service on December 28, 2007 and be done December 28, 2009 (which means I'll be home sometime early 2010!).
~for more information, there's a Peace Corps Namibia site with a lot more detais: http://www.peacecorpswiki.com/index.php?title=Namibia
A quick trip to the downtown library provided me with a big stack of reading material, so I'm happily learning more about the history, culture and travel information for Namibia. I'll share more later.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
What my business card should read...
I recently finished reading _The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down_ by Anne Fadiman. It tells the story of one Hmong family's struggle with Western medicine as they try to treat their daughter's epilepsy, operating from an entirely different worldview, one in which the line between the spiritual realm and this world is nonexistent. Epilepsy is their culture is known as what happens when "the spirit catches you and you fall down" and is a sign that the person is more in touch with the spiritual realm. This book had been recomended to me on numerous occassions, and I finally picked it up and found myself engrossed in another culture, learning about the "Silent War" in Laos and an ethnic group that has been forced to flee.
The Hmong have a phrase, hai cuaj txub kaum txub, which means " to speak of all kinds of things." The author describes that, "it is often used at the beginning of an oral narrative as a way of reminding the listeners that the world is full of things that may not seem to be connected but actually are; that no even occurs in isolation; that you can miss a lot by sticking to the point; and that the storyteller is likely to be rather long-winded" (13).
I've always needed a phrase to explain why I sometimes feel the need to take many winding paths in explaining myself or telling a story. At Camp Poem, Jack Ridle talked about different types of story-telling personas one might have (making everyone feel most at ease by giving names to how they relate a story). Mine most accurately would be "to speak of all kinds of things."
The Hmong have a phrase, hai cuaj txub kaum txub, which means " to speak of all kinds of things." The author describes that, "it is often used at the beginning of an oral narrative as a way of reminding the listeners that the world is full of things that may not seem to be connected but actually are; that no even occurs in isolation; that you can miss a lot by sticking to the point; and that the storyteller is likely to be rather long-winded" (13).
I've always needed a phrase to explain why I sometimes feel the need to take many winding paths in explaining myself or telling a story. At Camp Poem, Jack Ridle talked about different types of story-telling personas one might have (making everyone feel most at ease by giving names to how they relate a story). Mine most accurately would be "to speak of all kinds of things."
Packing while unpacking
Since google is rapidly taking over the internet galaxy, I figured that I would switch over to blogger at the same time as I switch to gmail, that way I can manage everything from my email account.
The title of this blog comes from a Japanese proverb that we had hanging on the door to our apartment this past semester:
"We're fools whether or not we dance, so we might as well dance."
There comes a point where what people think of you really doesn't hold a lot of sway anymore; when you stop worrying about what others think about you and just go at your own pace, dance when you hear a dancing rhythm, laugh spontaneously, speak the truth and do your own thing. Who you are is complete, not rotating around opinions of others, even those you esteem and hold dear. I'm not sure how this fits in with being in community, which I also value and seek to create. I don't believe that individualism and community are mutually exclusive, though. How does one hold tightly to both? Maybe by letting community be an evolving term, growing with us as we change and move on.
Graduating means moving on and leaving a lot of friends. We are all off to do exciting things in exciting places, but we won't be together again in the unique collegiate greenhouse. This realization brings mixed emotions: happiness for future plans coming into reality; sadness that the faces around the table won't be the same; worry about having folks to talk about "big ideas" with; apprehension of leaving what is comfortable and what we've learned to do well (be students, that's who we are!); a few regrets mixed in with the overwhelming feeling of being ready. Ready for what? I don't know. I don't know the next time I"ll be in a classroom taking lecture notes in top spiral bound notebooks, but this whole learning endeavor is far from over. My bookcases filling up the perimeter of my room remind me that there is still much to learn, discover and puzzle over.
The title of this blog comes from a Japanese proverb that we had hanging on the door to our apartment this past semester:
"We're fools whether or not we dance, so we might as well dance."
There comes a point where what people think of you really doesn't hold a lot of sway anymore; when you stop worrying about what others think about you and just go at your own pace, dance when you hear a dancing rhythm, laugh spontaneously, speak the truth and do your own thing. Who you are is complete, not rotating around opinions of others, even those you esteem and hold dear. I'm not sure how this fits in with being in community, which I also value and seek to create. I don't believe that individualism and community are mutually exclusive, though. How does one hold tightly to both? Maybe by letting community be an evolving term, growing with us as we change and move on.
Graduating means moving on and leaving a lot of friends. We are all off to do exciting things in exciting places, but we won't be together again in the unique collegiate greenhouse. This realization brings mixed emotions: happiness for future plans coming into reality; sadness that the faces around the table won't be the same; worry about having folks to talk about "big ideas" with; apprehension of leaving what is comfortable and what we've learned to do well (be students, that's who we are!); a few regrets mixed in with the overwhelming feeling of being ready. Ready for what? I don't know. I don't know the next time I"ll be in a classroom taking lecture notes in top spiral bound notebooks, but this whole learning endeavor is far from over. My bookcases filling up the perimeter of my room remind me that there is still much to learn, discover and puzzle over.
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