Coming to a Close.

I realize that my already sporadic posts dwindled within the last 6 months to a year or so.  Perhaps because things became so normal, so it didn’t cross my mind to write about them.  I figured it was time to do another in honor of my service coming to an end.

I’ve been in Namibia for 26 months.  One month left and I’ll be an RPCV (returned peace corps volunteer).  Not surprisingly, I am excited and nervous and exhausted and anxious.  Mostly excited because of what I’ve set out for me during the next five months.

This term has been full of a lot of continued frustration with my learners.  Don’t get me wrong, I love them outside of the classroom, but through this experience I’ve discovered that I am not meant to be a teacher. My patience has become short over the last year and I’m tired of yelling at learners to be quiet, breaking up fights, watching little boys cry, grading their workbooks, listening to complaints about who does and who does not get to watch movies and dealing with stolen (insert school supplies here).  So, while I will of course miss the crazy brats, I will not miss being their teacher.

Luckily, this last school term has been interrupted on a few occasions by activities that took greater priority and let me miss a few days to spend it with other volunteers.  For one, I spent an entire week in Windhoek for a final medical exam to make sure I am fit and healthy (yes, I’m fine minus the 20 *gasp* pounds I’ve gained since coming to this country).  I took a day off from school to visit a section of the country that I had missed out on.  The North.  Which holds the majority of the Namibian population and is mostly Owambo.  I stayed on a traditional (yet slightly modern because of the shower and flush toilet!) homestead with another volunteer.  Ate worms (yes I enjoyed them), got drunk at the shebeen, explored the maze of China shops in Oshikango, ate mounds of Chinese food while enjoying four hours of karaoke, and spent time with good company in Ongwadiva before heading back to site.  This month also greeted me with the Lucky Star Marathon which took place in Swakopmund on the coast.  No, I didn’t run it. I enjoyed the coast. A large group of us took the overnight train from Okahandja to Swakopmund.  The train took 11 hours.  It’s maybe a four hour drive.  We kept ourselves plenty entertained, though our portable speakers were not enjoyed much by the other passengers.

And now I’m in the home stretch. Four more weeks of teaching which seems entirely do-able.  I’m handing off some of my classes to my replacement who arrived last week. I’ll be busy making the grade 6 English exam, putting in the learners’ final grades, and using class time to take class photos.  I’ve already started trying to organize my house to make packing easier.  This process has only made me feel even giddier for what’s to come: a four month vacation.

I can’t even begin to explain my excitement.  Two other volunteers (one of my fellow Caprivi volunteers who I used to live close to, and the volunteer who lives in my shopping town and hosts me almost every weekend) and I are using the money Peace Corps gives us for “readjustment” to travel.  Our tickets are booked and we are very ready to go, sometimes asking ourselves why we chose November 23rd as our final date when we could have been done by now.  We will begin by hitchhiking for the last time up to Katima Mulilo.  Afterwards we will make our way over to Malawi, set up our hammocks, and lay on a beach.  After Malawi we go to Zanzibar and then hopefully over to have a look at Kilimanjaro. We end that month of Africa travel with a flight from Nairobi to India.  We’ll travel India for a month before heading to Thailand for 3 weeks, Bali for 3 weeks, a week in Singapore, and the last two weeks in the Philippines.  And then it’s back to Chicago.  Where I’m sure I’ll be an emotional mess.

And then who knows.  I’m still trying to figure out what I am supposed to be doing.  Though the time here has made this uncertainty much easier to handle.  The fact that I’m not tied down to any one place is kind of exciting so I guess I’ll see where I end up.

beyond frustrated.

Looking at my most recent post (March 8, 2011) kind of makes me laugh, and is also kind of upsetting. I ramble on about how great my learners are and now they have turned into my biggest source of frustration. I've gone through a lot of frustration while being in Namibia. Ranging from no water to language barriers to an education system that leaves much to be desired as well as classroom management. But these days the one that makes the top of the list is classroom management. I'm going over and over in my head what was different prior to term 2 that made my classes so much easier to bare, even if they were a little out of control at times, and I haven't really come up with an easy answer.

It's mostly grade 5. More often than not I am content with grade 6 (and yet even they are worse than last term). But grade 5 has become a pack of monsters. I can't even find them cute anymore. Their lack of respect and zero desire to learn leaves me exhausted and angry at the end of the day. Perhaps it's this particular group of learners. Because hey, I taught two grade 5 classes last year and they weren't nearly as bad, and I've also received complaints from other teachers about this particular class. (Grade 5 is divided into 3 classes, 5A, 5B, and 5C. I teach English to grade 5C and computer literacy to all grade 5 classes.)

Problems range from learners constantly getting out of their seats, never bringing pens, losing their workbooks, stealing, fighting, shouting, writing in textbooks, ripping pages out of story books, not doing homework, etc. It leaves very little time for teaching when all I'm focusing on is getting them to just sit down and listen and do their work. I've tried different kinds of classroom management. I used to give rewards to groups that behaved the best and earned the most stars on their star chart, I've given punishments to learners acting out (writing, changing seats, forced to leave the classroom, and a visit to the principals office) and none of that really works. Sometimes it will help them behave for the rest of the class period but by the next day they are back to normal. I reached out for help to my superiors at school. They came to my class, had me point out the misbehaving learners, took them to their classroom as if they were going to have a talk, and proceeded to beat them. Made me feel like a really good person (note the sarcasm). Teachers claim this is the only thing that works but even that's not true. The kids might shut up completely for the remainder of the day but then they are back at it the next day. And with one learner it even made the problem worse because he returned to class and for the next few days all he did was complain about how angry he was that he was beaten and how he wasn't going to do any of his work.

So. School has not been going so well for Miss Bennett these past few weeks. I have a week long break coming in two weeks which is not soon enough and I am only hoping I will return to school feeling refreshed and ready to finish the term.

Aside from that things are going great! I am in the process of making post-PC plans. The immediate plans include World Tour 2011, which will be 3 months of traveling with two fellow PCVs. Thus far our plans include traveling up through a few countries in Africa; potentially Zambia, Malawi, Tanzania, Kenya and Ethiopia. Then proceeding by plane to India, Thailand, Bali and the Philippines. As plans get finalized I'll be sure to post.

But for now, I'm just going to dread the coming school day and hope I make it through alive.

obsession.

It's official. I am obsessed. I absolutely love my learners. Of course I loved them last year. But there's something different these days and I can't figure out what it is. Maybe I'm more comfortable in my home. Maybe their names aren't so hard to pronounce anymore (sorry Uetuarera and Uatiraije...I'll forever struggle with your names). Maybe it's just on the days when all of my classes behave (which is today). Maybe it's my new habit of drinking coffee in the afternoon. They are amazing enough for me to stand outside of the hall while they leave to go to bed just so I can wish them a goodnight. And enough for me to feel sad that they had to go to bed.

Who knows. But there's something about them. Like Rikuvera, moved here from Windhoek and his English is EXCELLENT. He is clever and always eager to show me his answers to be sure they are correct. Ikuaterua Novengi. She always has the trendiest clothes and accessories. And for a while I was thinking damn, what do her parents do?! Turns out she is part San (a group that has been highly discriminated against), lost her mother, and along with her sisters has been taken under the wing of someone with the last name Novengi while her real father works on a farm in the village of Otumborombonga. So her support is coming from Novengi, her father, and money from the government because she is considered both an OVC (orphans and vulnerable children) and San. Kaesekama is the sweetest girl. Not the most clever. But doesn't do terrible either. But she tries the hardest by far. Tjipekapora. New. Very smart. Shy in class but loves to ask me for sudoku puzzles and oh so polite. These kids are awesome. Tjindu and Kandjeo. Twins. They struggle with reading and writing but Tjindu can never seem to close his mouth. Sylvia. Can't read or speak much English but puts in a genuine effort. And despite the likelihood that she will fail again this year, she does know more words than last year and I've seen her actually read a couple (BIG improvement), which is very exciting. Riuisee. Tiny and cute. Amazing. The list goes on.

love love love.

18 months in.

I've been in Namibia for 18 months now. In the grand scheme of things that's not much time, but for the short time I've been on this planet and compared to one year ago...that is a long time. I've still got at least 9 months left and then what? Well, I do have some promising possibilities which will be discussed when they are more concrete.

Thinking about finishing my service leaves me with mixed emotions. So far this year teaching is going really well. I don't know what big change occurred that is making me enjoy being in the class room so much more. The difference is huge. Granted, I despise teaching computers to grade five. I hate it with my entire being. And I have to teach it 9 times a week. I dread that class. I yell. Force learners to leave. Tell them they drive me crazy. Use god's names in vein. It's not fun. But give me an English class and I'm all for it. So, apart from teaching those little monsters how to use a mouse and click on stuff, I'll be sad to leave these kids.

As for the bureaucratic side of the Namibian education system...also a pain in the neck. And honestly, aside from attending a few mandatory meetings, I just boycott the paperwork and files that are required of Namibian teachers yet don't contribute in any positive way. It just makes me wonder what kind of paperwork goes on in the American system. And if they are similar to the paperwork here in the slightest I feel oh so sorry for all of my past teachers. So nope, I won't be missing the paperwork. Not that I do it anyways.

So here I am. 18 months in. 9 to go. Happy.

Ok.

newfound love for learning kids how to speaking english

The second week of the new school year is now over. Have we begun with classes yet? Sadly no. Our timetable is not yet complete, though a few teachers who are eager to begin grabbed the classes they wanted and taught a little throughout the week. Which is what I did and have found that I am more excited than ever about teaching. I can only hope this doesn't wear off as the year progresses. Sure I've only assigned their seats, talked about and created class rules with them, and did one introductory lesson, but I still really enjoyed it and being with my learners. Thus far they haven't really bothered me at my house, which might be one contributing factor to me really enjoying being at school. When I am at home, I need time to myself. To not be surrounded by a million children and to just relax. Last year they didn't really allow me that by knocking on my door every 10 minutes.

Also, I am beginning the year being way more organized than how I started last year. And I also have a better idea of what the hell it is I am supposed to do. Teaching for the first time is rough. And now I have a better grasp on it. I feel more confident in the classroom.

So. I hope this newfound love keeps up. Not that I hated school last year, but I always looked forward to the weekends and sometimes school drove me crazy. Now, my favorite part of the week is actually being at work. Which is weird. My weekends are boring and I look forward to being at school.

One year left, and I have high hopes. I have plans for decreasing my school's need for volunteers. Specifically with the computer lab. And I realize this plan may not play out as perfect as I'd like. But it's still a plan. And I already have an idea of the problems that could (and probably will) occur.

To sum it up, Sarah is having a great start to the year.

food food food.

I've been thinking a lot about food lately. For a few different reasons. A desire to be healthier. Children telling me they are hungry. Watching films that highlight fine cooking (which can be painful when you're cooking on basically two hot plates and access to fresh vegetables isn't always easy to come by). And over the holiday I spent the last week and a half in Mubiza, my former village, where I enjoyed the food my Namibian family so graciously cooked for me. And I came to realize that apart from the cooking oil and sugar, I knew exactly where all of my food was coming from, which is pretty great compared to my food consumption in the U.S., and even here in my current village of Ongombombonde.

An average meal for me in Mubiza consisted of the staple maize meal (cooked into buhobe, a thick porridge you can mold into a little ball in your hand to pick up other parts of the meal), vegetables which can include tomatoes, onions, and some type of green (my favorite being sinshungwa which is a slightly bitter leafy green), and sometimes fish. The maize is grown in the region, and during the right season it's grown in my family's own field, and locally pounded. The tomatoes and onions are bought at the market and grown by the vendor's families. The leafy greens tend to be harvested straight from my family's back yard. And the fish are from the Zambezi river. Even when we eat buhobe with milk and sugar I know exactly where the milk comes from. I can see that cow every day. That's two ingredients that I can't trace to their origins without a little bit more work: oil and sugar.

Compare that to what I was eating in the U.S....well, I'd have to put a lot of effort into finding out where everything came from. And Ongombombonde. It's dryer in this part of the country, and I am further from a place that can offer me fresh vegetables. So, many times, I have to resort to canned goods. Even now, looking at my fridge and cabinets, I'm not exaclty sure what the food went through to arrive in my kitchen.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this. Only to say that Namibia has made me think a lot more about the resources I consume on a daily basis: food, water, electricity, etc. It feels good to not be so wasteful. And it makes me worried about returning to the States and old habits.

insects and dignity.

I am glad I am not an insect. Their deaths always seem so terrible. They lack dignity. This poor winged creature is constantly going in circles with his head pressed against the floor. His wings beating a million times a second and the direction they are taking him is downward. It's like this one last mad scramble not to die. Looks sad.

The other day I walked past a giant beetle. And I mean giant. It was dead. Being devoured by hundreds of ants under the beating sun. A few minutes later I walked by another giant beetle. Same kind, only alive. Unfortunately he had gotten himself flipped on his back and couldn't turn back over. He was doing that same mad scramble right before death. His legs flailing to try and get enough umph to turn over. As I walked on I couldn't get the terrible images out of my head of him dying of hunger or the sun cooking his tiny body or other insects getting to him before he finally passed away. So I turned around. I walked back to the enormous beetle and took control of the situation. I picked up a stick, helped turn him over, and watched him walk away.