June-September has been a full and rewarding time for me as a
volunteer. A new project in the village and a month-long visit from my
mother are the big highlights, which I will report on. After a
surprisingly cold winter, requiring long underwear and multiple
blankets at night, the heat of summer has arrived full force.
Productivity ceases during the afternoon hours, as humans and animals
alike seek solace in the shade of a tree. I find myself looking to the
horizon each morning, hoping for rain clouds, but alas, rainy season
is still months away with nary a cloud in sight.
Lutusane: Let us help each other
In July, in a 24-hour period, our community experienced the deaths of
two young people, a 24-year-old woman and a 2-year-old girl, both from
the same extended family. Their deaths were attributed to witchcraft
and God's will, respectively, even though all signs pointed AIDS.
While funerals are a routine occurrence in my community, given the
high prevalence rate of HIV/AIDS and lack of health services in rural
areas, these were the first deaths that touched me first-hand. The
baby girl was the daughter of my main counter-part for the garden
project. It was decided to combine their funerals, canceling church
services and bringing the whole community together to attend. Because
the baby's death was so abrupt, no time or money could be pulled
together for a coffin so she was buried the traditional way – wrapped
in a reed mataka (mat) with all of her clothing. It was heart breaking
to watch the old mashembeli (women) of the community tucking her into
a tiny grave. We went from one grave to the next sprinkling ashes and
singing hymns.
In the days after their deaths, women kept coming to me to talk about
their deaths. It hit home, with many women having kids similar ages.
Out of our grief, came the idea for women to start meeting to learn
about health issues. At first I thought it would focus mainly on
maternal and child health topics, but the women were adamant that in
order to take care of their children, they first needed to take care
of themselves. We decided to meet twice a month for sessions and weigh
babies at the same time. The purpose of Child Growth Monitoring
(weighing babes) is to make sure that babies are growing and healthy.
If the weight flat-lines or goes down, monthly measuring can help
catch these patterns early on, so we can see what might be causing
weight loss (diarrhea, stopping breast feeding, poor nutrition, other
illness, etc.). We pitched the idea to the community at a weekly
community meeting; it was excitedly received by the council of headmen
and women, who began clapping when Chaze and I talked about how hard
it is to be a mother and raise kids, acknowledging the important role
women play as both mothers and caregivers.
We hold sessions at the kuta (where the headmen and community gather
for meetings outside under a tree) and weigh the babies at the meat
market on an old fish scale. The meat market is not in operation right
now due to fear of foot and mouth disease, so I tell people that
instead of selling meat, we weigh babies in Mubiza! It's really quite
the sight to see. We started with ten women, but quickly grew to
thirty women and now have over 50 women registered. It's been fun to
work on a project that is not only needed by the community but also
wanted by the community. The best community projects are initiated by
the community, which has definitely been the case with this Lutusane
group. My two best friends in the village, Chaze (my neighbor who I
share meals with) and Mpambo (one of the few 20 year olds with no
babies) are my partners in crime for this project and really
understand that we do this together, it's not one translating for
another. No, we all are teachers and learners. Dinner conversations
now focus on the latest chapter we've read in our trusty Where There
is No Doctor book, as we talk about what foods are good sources of
iron, foliate and potassium!
A Trip of a Lifetime
Wednesday, my mom and I said a teary good-bye after spending a month
together – and what a month it was! I met my mom in Windhoek following
my mid-service medical exam, where we spent two nights at Penduka, a
women's TB cooperative in Katatura, the township outside of Windhoek.
During apartheid, black Namibians were forced out of their homes and
made to live in Katatura, which means "the place we do not want to
live." The ethnic groups were divided into neighborhoods as part of
the government's divide and rule strategy. We visited local markets,
graveyards of freedom fighters, museums and saw a very different part
of the capital than I had experienced before.
Next, we set off in a little Kia rental car to do a 7 days loop,
touring central Namibia. We headed south on a gravel road, navigating
around baboons, warthogs and driving on the left side of the road to
reach Sesriem, where the mountains hold back a sea of sand at the
entrance to the Namib Desert. We woke early to make the last leg of
the journey, arriving at the Soussusvlei dunes in time for sunrise.
There we sat and watched people climb the much-photographed Dune 45,
while sipping cups of coffee. The dunes change color depending on the
position of the sun, so we wanted to see the shifting shadows, casting
light on the apricot colored dunes. The wind picked up, causing a
severe sandstorm, which apparently is not common. The wind didn't stop
us from trekking over the dunes to visit Hidden Vlei, where a lake
once created an oasis in the desert. The scenery in the desert looked
pre-historic; we half-expected to see dinosaurs walking towards us!
The heat of the day, gave way to a frigid night. We even had to take
the floor mats out of the rental cars to keep us warm in my little pup
tent!
The next day, we traveled through the Naukluft Mountains to where the
desert meets the ocean, on our way to the Bavarian coastal city of
Swakopmund. We spent two nights on the coast. One day we kayaked with
a seal colony and saw dolphins nearby in Walvis Bay. It's hard to
believe how diverse Namibia can be. It would be easy to forget that
you are in Africa at all when in Swakopmund, where German architecture
dominates the landscape.
From the coast, we traveled inland, overnighting in Otjiwarongo on our
way to Etosha, Namibia's biggest national park. Along the way, we
stopped in Outjo to visit another health volunteer, where we saw our
first group of Himba women. The Himba are a nomadic group and are
recognized by how the women cover themselves in red ochre butter from
head to toe, caking it in their hair and don't wear anything on top.
Up until this point, my mom hadn't felt like she was actually in
Africa yet, but Himba women grabbing your wrists to put bracelet after
bracelet, getting ochre butter all over your arms, made it official.
Welcome to Namibia ;)
We camped right inside of Etosha at Okakuejo, one of the three rest
camps inside the park. Jackals roamed a little too close to our tent
for a peaceful nights slumber, but being able to walk to the nearby
watering hole and sit and watch a parade of animals coming to parch
their thirst made it the perfect camping spot. We sat mesmerized as
elephants lumbered to the watering hole, shortly after we arrived;
next came a whole family of giraffes, then zebras. The next morning,
we were up with the sun to drive through the park, on our self-guided
game drive. We saw more animals than we could count, having to stop
for herds of hundreds of zebras crossing in front of us. Upon leaving
the park, a long drive back to Windhoek awaited us.
Returning the rental car, we took off again the next day, only this
time with PC driving us up north. After passing Grootfontein, you
cross the "Red Line" where most of the population lives in the north.
This time, crossing the line, I was struck by how different the
northern part of the country is from the south. And the least
developed. It's too long of a drive to go from Windhoek to Caprivi, so
we stopped in Rundu to break up the trip. Rundu is on the bluffs
overlooking the Kavango River that separates Namibia from Angola. The
next day, we crossed the Caprivi Strip, seeing ostrich but no
elephants. In the short time I had been out of the region, I was
struck by how many trees now had green leaves (the result of it
heating up, no rain). Winter's definitely "ovah-ovah" (as the popular
Zambian song goes).
We spent two full weeks in the village, breaking up our time with a
weekend camping trip on the Okavango River, where we stayed in tree
houses overlooking the river. Being in the village (especially your
first week) can be pretty over stimulating, so it was nice break to
relax on the water. We went on a sundowner pontoon ride and did a
half-day mokoro (traditional dug-out canoe) trip from Poppa Falls down
the river. They even had an outdoor bathtub overlooking the river and
a swimming pool cage in the river to protect you from the crocs and
hippos!
In the village, my mom really got to experience my life as a
volunteer. She ate meals with my family, taught life-skills for grade
5 and 7 at the school, helped with my after school activities, garden
demos, sports activities, baby weighing, hygiene sessions, visiting
friends, cooking over the open fire, community meetings under the big
tree, field trips to the market in town and various Ministry offices
where I pound the pavement each week to find support for the
activities I work on, Project Hope (the young women's micro-finance
group that I work with) sessions on gender and tradition, carrying
water on her head, washing clothes by the pump, making traditional
beer, distributing soccer balls that had been donated, giving my puppy
rabies shots, drying meat on clothes lines and so many more daily life
scenes. She was able to capture a lot in pictures, which I appreciate
since I've taken so few. I felt bad at how busy we were in the
village, there really was no downtime, but such is my life here. I
think my mom was very touched seeing the way my family takes care of
me and how I've become a part of my community. Friends were over til
late every night, wanting to spend time with us.
My mom was not the only visitor we had during her time in the village.
The head of the President's Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR),
Ambassador Dybul, along with the heads of every big health
organization (CDC, USAID, PEPFAR, UNAIDS, Catholic AIDS Action) came
to my village to see the health projects that I'm working with on our
second day back in the village. For me it was neat to see those making
policy come face-to-face with the on-the-ground realities in the
village. I think it was quite eye opening, as it was their only visit
to a village (they were on a junket tour to places like Swakopmund and
Etosha!). I had interned with an AIDS organization in Washington
during the time Dybul was appointed, and was able to attend his
confirmation hearings on the hill. A full circle, indeed. As I
prepared the kids who they met with, I told them that important people
were coming to the village, but they're coming because YOU guys are
important. Their visit was brief, but they were able to tour the
garden, hear about the after-school program with orphans and talk to
the women involved in the Lutusane Group. Back in Windhoek, Ambassador
Dybul told my supervisor that Congress needs to hear more about the
kind of work I'm doing in my village. No kidding.
The following week, the U.S. Ambassador to Namibia came to visit
Mubiza, to meet with Griffin and I and see what we are doing in the
village. My dog tried to bite her – he doesn't care who's entering my
house – he's protective! She seemed pretty detached from seeing the
village, but we did our best to tell her what it's like. I told my mom
that most weeks don't contain these types of visits!!
My good friend Mpambo was so saddened by my mom leaving the village
that she visited every single night so she could spend as much time
with us as possible before she left. She told my mom that she's had a
hole in her heart ever since both her parents died, so saying good-bye
was especially difficult. Chaze loved having my mom around too
(really, we all did!), and kept saying that if she had money, she'd
come with us to Livingstone so that she could spend every last minute
with us before Linda boarded the plane!
Instead of traveling back to Windhoek, Mom and I went to Livingstone,
Zambia for four days at the end of her time here. Despite being only 2
½ hours away from Victoria Falls, it was my first time going to see
them. It was the perfect way to end our time together. We spent a day
at Victoria Falls, where we were able to climb along the edge of the
falls. During rainy season, the water volume is too high to do this. I
swam in a rock pool on the edge called the Arms of Angels, which was
glorious. Mom was a trouper to go right up to the edge, despite her
fear of heights. We also did a day-trip, crossing the rickety ferry
between Zambia to Botswana, where we went on a game-drive in Chobe
National Park and a private boat trip on the Chobe River, complete
with a picnic on the water. Chobe does not disappoint when it comes to
seeing elephants! Oh boy! We saw sooooo many animals! Even a lion
guarding a recently dead elephant! Our final full day together was
incredibly special: we took a boat out to Livingstone Island and swam
to the edge of the falls (the big, big part with the thundering rising
mist!) before diving off the edge, in this little basin right at the
brink of the falls. If we had known what we were to do, I don't think
either of us would have voluntarily done it. But diving in and
swimming to the ledge was the most exhilarating thing I think I've
ever done. The rest of the day we spent visiting a local market (where
I was delighted to find how many people understood my Silozi!) to buy
setenge cloth and lounging by the pool. The pools, rivers and ocean
had been too cold to swim when traveling in Namibia, so it was nice to
swim our hearts out in Zambia. We really are water babies ;)
There's so much more to tell, I feel like I've only skimmed the
surface. But I'll leave the stories for my mom to tell. More than
anything, I feel incredibly privledged to be able to share my
experience with my mom. We talked like magpies and laughed til we
cried. Not every part of my life is easy, and my mom was incredibly
supportive of some of the challenges that I'm facing in my work and
life. I've been inexcusably behind in responding to emails/letters
(ie. I just haven't for months now), but I do love hearing from you
and will try my best to emerge from the pit of not hitting reply.
Peace and love,
Thea
--
Thea Neal
Peace Corps Volunteer
Caprivi Region, Namibia
Cell: 081-364-2891
--
Thea Neal
Peace Corps Volunteer
Caprivi Region, Namibia
Cell: 081-364-2891
