Namibia Group 39 PCV: July 2015

I have now lived over a year in Khorixas and my Mom's arrival has shed the best light on my service. She arrived July 4th aroung 3PM Namibian time. Our reunion was pretty movie-like. She missed her flight from Johannesburg, SA into Windhoek, NA and used an unlawful amount of data to contact Stacy to inform me. She is such a great mom and was only concerned about me waiting at the airport without knowing she was on a different flight. With this knowledge I still arrived 4 hours before our union because I was filled with too much excitement. At the Hosea Kutako International Airport there is a guard rail about 25m from this automatic door that releases recently arrived individuals. I was filled with so many emotions - the reality that my mom was coming through that door was just too unreal. I was standing with jittery legs and a hard focus on that magical door that opened to have a peek into the other side as people walked through. Person after person came through, each not my mom. Then finally, the door opened and a sparkle came to my eyes as I saw Mom in the distance. She had not seen me and I excitedly got the folded piece of paper out of my back pocket that I had written "Mom" on and held it up against that rail. The doors opened. Our eyes caught and a buoyant laughter bursted from her lips as she saw me and my sign. I danced with joy until I could embrace her. And what an embrace! Fifteen months of no touch all in one hug. It felt like a screenplay of each day we were separated was united and filled in those few moments. Our separate memories and experiences collided into one. An explosion. One so great tears rolled down our cheeks. We moved to a different location to continue our embrace. Joy - pure joy. Then a wave of emotion hit me that Dad was not there. He would have enjoyed this and in a way he has the best seat in the house to view our adventures together.

P.S. Keep posted to read another blog about Mom & I traveling Namibia! I am writing this a week into her 3 week visit - and wow we have seen a lot!

Our First Dinner in Namibia!

First, I realized I think my last blog is the first one which I shared what I was doing here. Sorry it took a year to do so! I hope you are now aware of the struggles a health volunteer has to start a project and then face the many challenges of keeping the project alive and ultimately successful. Let's just say - it's hard. I have really learned to be flexible, face adversity and still getting better at being resilient. There is a fine line between flexibility and apathy that I constantly am crossing; it is a fine balance.

This adventure of mine is a constant psychological and sociological exploration. My last blog title was called “One Year as a Foreigner” and I want to open your minds as mine has been opened. I am sure anyone that has lived abroad has a better understanding already, but maybe this is a reminder. Khorixas is about the size of Brenham, Texas – large enough to be a town, but small enough to be aquatinted with everyone. Let's say one day an Indian lady (a small demographic in Brenham) moves into town and starts working. Without ever speaking to her, there are a multitude of thoughts or judgements on her and her character. These judgments are based largely on stereotypes on television and maybe the few Indians you know. Yet do you ever take the time to get to know her or invite her over for a nice Texan American welcome? No, you typically don't. Foreigner is not an endearing word, “invader” and “outsider” are words associated. I am trying to explain this in nice literature terms, but simply put- be nice to the outsider, invite them over or out, have an open mind and don't make judgments.

When I first arrived, I was expecting everyone to invite me over and I would become a part of a big family. Well, this didn't happen – maybe because everyone thought someone else would invite me over or that whites and blacks don't typically hang out together here or people don't really invite, you invite yourself. Whatever the reason, I felt isolated. Since then I have coped and made some friends, but true friendships worldwide are hard to find. With time, I am sure these friendships will grow and become stronger.

I currently live in a sharing society where everyone asks family, friends and strangers for money. Due to white colonizers and television, as a white female I am expected to have a lot of money. As Namibian friends have explained to me, when black Namibians see white people they see money. Because of this I get asked every day by at least five people for money. Not as many people ask me anymore because they know me and my response, “I don't have.” The combination of cultural norms of sharing and the perception that I have a lot of money was an overload of money requests. This was very overwhelming when I first arrived and is something I don't think I will ever really get used to, but I have a better understanding and acceptance of this issue. I realized that I have never really been asked for anything prior to coming here. I only gave with a gracious heart, but have become more selfish here. I am trying to find a balance of my old giving heart and a boundary of being taken advantage of.

Before you make judgements on a persons character on something that bothers you, their actions may be something from a cultural background. The human race is so diverse, let's embrace our own and respect others. Also, let's be nice to the “foreigner”.