The Best Independence Celebration - Not Even in the USA

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!

The Foreigner

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”.

Dominoes - The Namibian Way

One of my first days in Khorixas, watching a soccer match

       

2014 End of the Year Party for My School Club Learners

    

Mrs. /Gawises' 50th Birthday Party                                            My On & Off Boyfriend, Chicco

One of my latest efforts - Grassroots Soccer

One Year as The Foreigner

One Year as The Foreigner

I arrived to Namibia on March 12th 2014 and here I am one year later! I can't believe it. I actually made it. I am proud. Only 14 months until I complete my service. Now that may seem silly to say as I have actually more time left than I have completed, but I feel like it is just tomorrow that I will be going home. When I first applied for Peace Corps I thought 27 months was such a long time and wondered why it couldn’t be one year, “Isn't that long enough?”, I thought. I want to try and paint a picture for you. Most jobs in America have a defined job description, duties and colleagues to work with to reach your goals. As a health volunteer in Peace Corps, you are given an organization to work with but you are responsible for assessing the needs of the community, identifying projects to work on that are culturally and economically sustainable and find  colleagues to collaborate on the project with. This is a big task to take on in a familiar community – now picture trying this in a country a hemisphere and season different than your own. It takes just a year to build trust with people – for them to be comfortable with you and you to know who has an honest commitment and desire to better the community.

I have heard it time and time again from other volunteers, the second year is easier and when you really get in the routine of your work projects. I am into that second year, and for me it is true! After many failed projects and heartfelt attempts and ideas, I have a few projects that are consistent. I co-advise three school clubs that meet four times a week. I lead an exercise class three times a week for ladies in the community. I am assisting with a garden and chicken project that are to benefit the hospital patients and disadvantaged in the community. I also help organize any projects within the Khorixas Hospital Social Services Department. These are my main community projects and in Peace Corps I am a leader in the HIV Working Group and Volunteer Support Network. This work keeps me busy and I pray my efforts are as beneficial to others.

With just a year left, I had to plan out my vacation days so that I can visit as much of Namibia as possible before I go home. This makes the time go by even faster! The most exciting news is my mom will be visiting in just a few months (your summer & my winter)!!!!

Home is Where the Heart Is

When I started this blog a year ago, I had no clue the struggles I
would blog about. My life changed last year and will never be the same. Initially I debated posting about my Dad’s death or just getting rid of my blog in general, but I needed to keep in touch with everyone back home so I kept it. Now the blog has turned into this raw emotional public diary of my time in Africa, my struggles of being away from home and living life without Dad. (Sorry to those reading this blog with only a pure interest in the Peace Corps experience.)

Today, last year my Dad died. My heart physically aches and it feels like half of it is gone. Then I remembered the saying: “Home is where the heart is.” No wonder my heart hurts so much! My home is with my family. My father was a big part of that. Not only is my family so very many miles away, but one member is not on this Earth anymore. Heaven is just a little too far away from home for my heart to handle right now.


This morning, I spread my Dad's ashes on the top of one of the surrounding mountainous hills in Khorixas. I brought some of his ashes from USA. I liked the idea of having him all over the world and somehow being a part of my experience here. Before I left, my sister gave me this lovely book with pictures of Dad and some written memories of him. Every time I miss him, I can find some peace in this album. One of the photos is of my Dad, before I was born, barefoot on the edge of this rock in Arizona (I think) with a similar scenery as the one I currently am in. Ever since seeing this photo, I knew I had to hike a hill and spread his ashes at my new home of 2yrs.

This photo embodies the life and spirit of my father. It inspires me to stay adventurous and enjoy life. He disciplined us kids, but he also encouraged us to take life head on and have fun. It has been really hard living life without him though. Every morning I wake, every step I take, every breath I have is just a little harder with this heavy heart I have to carry around. But, I have to let go. I have to let go of my pain and let go my Dad’s life. I realized not too long ago that I didn't want to let go. I kept having excuses as why I didn't want to spread my Dad's ashes. I knew I had to do it today as it has been a year (even if it seems like just last month).

After walking an hour, I was able to spread his ashes North, East, South and West. He always emphasized the importance of knowing directions. He was full of wisdom and life lessons through his actions and words. He encouraged me to be a strong confident woman, to dream big, work hard, love always, live life and appreciate God’s blessings. I have to thank him for that and this is also the reason I must try my best to let go and live my life with the people I am surrounded by now. Otherwise I might just get caught living in the past. I cannot go without saying my dad's goodness and strength is partly attributed to my mom. They were a great team. I could go on forever about all of the special memories of Dad. Instead I ask those who knew him to take a moment and enjoy the memories they had with him and cherish them on this day.

On another perspective of “Home is Where the Heart Is”, our true homes as Christians is in Heaven. Before Dad's death, I came upon this realization on a day I was sad. I couldn't figure it out of why I wasn’t fully happy at where I was. It then hit me that we should never get too comfortable because our true home is in the perfect world of endless praising and loving God in Heaven. This is what we should strive for: living a life for God and accepting His Son as our Savior. One day I will be home with those dearest in my heart. For now, Dad, Amanda (my younger sister), Grandmother, Pop, Aunt Nora and other family and friends get to join each other in joy and laughter as they relish in all the splendors of Heaven.

Halloween (Brenham, TX)

Evening Television (Katy, TX)

Lost Prairie Lake (Palestine,TX)

Texas A&M University Graduation
(Chappell Hill, TX)

One Summer Christmas

A Few Holiday Lights in Khorixas Town

So yeah just a reminder to all, all countries in the Southern Hemisphere have opposite seasons than the north. The movie industry is very biased to those above the equator. I mean during Christmas it is always snowing or at least cold for my Texas folks. While you guys were drinking hot cocoa and bundled by the fireplace, I was sweating in my sleep. I neglected to put sunscreen one day and burned my whole body. So now that I have set the scenery for you of the hot African summer holidays, there is clarification on a few things. Santa Claus does not exist here. There is no holiday music playing. There is not the traditional Christmas festivities held in America. Some children get presents, but many don't. Some don't even get to eat on Christmas Day. Since Santa Claus has not existed here before and children are now having television, parents are now faced with the struggle of children wanting gifts from Santa Claus. Similar to The States, December becomes a time of large expense with visitors passing through. In Khorixas, most residents go to their farms or go to Swakopmund at the coast. So the town is very empty or filled with many non-residents.

So what did I do for the holidays, then? Well, I toured the southern part of Namibia. Before Group 39 departed to our sites in May we decided to have Christmas in Luderitz and it would be called “LudaChristmas”. Well, we kept our word and most of us gathered at the coastal town to celebrate. We visited a ghost town which was established because of diamonds and deserted once there were no more diamonds to be found. I am always amused at the locations which  towns are established and developed. For Luderitz, there is only sand for several hours before you reach another town. There are people bulldozing sand off the roads daily. I never thought I would see such a sight! There is a large “Luderitz” sign like the “Hollywood” sign which we took pictures in front of. We took a boat ride to an island and saw dolphins and seals on the way out and on the island penguins and flamingos! And of course we ate as much seafood as we could: oysters, fish, calamari. Mmmm:)

Dolphins!

Penguins on Halifux Island

Yeah we Peace Corp Vols are creative!

Girls Night in Keetmans!

During the trip we also had a girls night out in Keetmanshoop which is always necessary. Basically we got to play American, going to a nice bar and talking without slowing our speech or censoring any content. We were free to embrace ourselves and our culture. It was very pleasant.


I also hopped on the Gordon Van! One volunteer’s mom came to Namibia for the holiday season. I got to ride in a car with an American driver and everyone spoke English! It felt like an American family road trip. It was nice to hear the mother-daughter family laughs, talks and quarrels. It was very refreshing. I also got to eat at some nice lodges and even went on a game drive where I got to see my first zebras, giraffes, and some other horned beasts.

Game Drive with the Gordons!

Now onto the emotional side…
Despite all the fun, this past December was probably the darkest time in my life. To thrive in a land so far away and so different from my own takes a certain kind of strength. With my Dad’s unexpected death shortly before departing The Great States, the most I could emotionally prepare myself for was getting on the plane. I have encountered and overcome other challenges upon arriving here. You can never really prepare for what happens in life. My world has changed and it will never be the same again. I have been reminded that the only stable and consistent in life is God’s love. He loves me even through my most wicked thoughts and actions. He loved me even though I refused to celebrate His Son’s birth. My heart ached so much. Just when I thought I was adjusting fine, I was reminded of my greatest loves I left behind. Moments I never imagined I would miss – I did. Over the years my family had created our own traditions we all came to love and respect so much. This year I didn't have that. This was my first Christmas away, my nephew’s first Christmas, my nieces first Christmas and all of our first Christmas without that roaring voice, big smile and open arms from my Dad. I couldn't even say Merry Christmas; I might of said it once. As I noted earlier, it is not very commercialized so it was pretty easy to ignore the day. It was too much to accept. Ignorance probably wasn't the best way to handle it, but it was my natural defense mechanism. I felt like a zombie, numb to the world around me. Life presented some precious moments which allowed me to feel such as seeing animals in their natural habitat which I had never seen before and the unity and togetherness of Group 39.

2011 Christmas Tree Cutting

2013 Family Christmas Photo

SOME MOMENTS I MISSED...

Stacy's (my sister) Pregnancy

Miranda's (my niece from Stacy) Baptism

      

Lil Whittaker Family

The Murphy's (my sister) Big Move

Waylan (my brother's child) is now walking!

After my travels, I was able to have time to mourn and accept that 2015 will be the first year without my Dad. I will also miss the growth and development of some beautiful babies in the family. I still struggle, but I am learning to embrace the good and have a different perspective. My service ends in May/June 2016, so this is my full year in Khorixas, Namibia. This is the year I can make the biggest difference and most positive change. God has given me the gift of a new counterpart who has the hard work ethic of an American with the love of Jesus to help people. He is just what I needed to stay committed to my service as it can be hard to be self-motivated. He keeps me accountable for my projects, respects the theories I work from and I value his feedback and support. I do believe we will be able to shift the mindset of Khorixas, at least a good handful or two of people.

The Man I Will Forever Miss - My Dad

FaceTime with Mom, Meme, Miranda & Stacy!
This gets me through the tough times!

My New Counterpart: Simbarashe

Catholic Mother's Circle

I sit here writing this Tuesday morning, with a stomach full of cake and hot tea in my hand. These were the commands of a middle-aged friend of mine as she dropped me off at the hospital gate last night. We departed with hugs and I walked through the hospital yard with a large slice of cake, a green Sparletta crème soda in hand and a subtle smile on my face.

This past Sunday morning, I left my flat at 9am to walk 2km west to attend the Catholic Church service beginning at 9:30am. Namibia is a Christian country with Evangelical Lutheran as the prominent denomination; Khorixas has one Catholic Church, one Lutheran Church and a handful of “born-again” churches held at individuals homes. There is around 30 people in attendance, majority are women with a handful of men and children. The songs are sung a Capella by memory in Afrikaans or Khoekhoegowab (KKG) led by one of the ladies in the pews. The Bible readings are delivered by three different church members in three different languages: Afrikaans, Khoekhoegowab and English. The sermon is in English which is the main reason I attend the Catholic service instead of the Lutheran service which has the sermon in KKG and Afrikaans. This was my second appearance at the Catholic Church and was greeted by Betty, a member of the past volunteer’s project, whom invited me to a party that afternoon. I tried to clarify what the party was for, but could not communicate my question. The party was delayed until Monday, which was good for me because I almost passed out at church from heat exhaustion. I started to get cold sweats, my ears rang and slightly blacked out but I sat down and started fanning myself which prevented the fainting spell. I don’t know how the other ladies were not in the same position as I as they were wearing full length traditional dresses with quarter-length sleeves and a head wrap. I still don’t know what folk tales are believed or not, but was very nervous that if I passed out some church members might think meant that I was demon-possessed. I was praying that I would not faint as I did not want that rumor spreading around town and very thankfully my prayers were answered in my favor and I did not have to face that issue. My newest American Peace Corps Volunteer site mate, Den, was also there and walked me home. I spent the rest of the evening drinking cool water and finished Season 3 of New Girl on my laptop.  

The following day I had my first KKG tutor session. My tutor is a 15 year old native speaker that was in one of my school clubs. Students have the option to take Afrikaans or Khoekhoegowab as a language class and she is taking KKG therefore knows how to spell the language which makes it easier for me to learn seeing it written down.  Peace Corps gives me a small allowance to pay for a tutor. I am excited to finally take advantage of this opportunity. This young lady even brought me cool drink and chips. What a glorious day! I am learning the local language and received a snack. My other site mate, Jay, has not had water at his accommodation for the past couple of weeks due to lack of payment from his organization and therefore took advantage of the shower at my flat. I then left to meet Betty at her house for this unknown party and walked with one of the cleaners to her house. She is always so pleasant to greet. Today she had heartbreaking news of her best friend taking her boyfriend. Sadly this is typical drama of the town. She still held herself strongly with a solemn smile on her face as walked. She dropped me off at Betty’s house.

From there we were picked up by a friend, we stopped at the store and another house. Cool drinks, meat, a homemade cake, three older women, the male driver and I arrived at the pink house after only one engine breakdown which was physically pushed to restart again. This pink house has a beautiful view on top of a hill, with the town below and a backdrop of the sunset mirroring itself on the surrounding hills. I relaxed with a cool drink in hand as I listened to the chatter of eight ladies talking in Afrikaans and Damara (KKG) with the smell of chicken and boerwors (sausage) cooking on fire and the slight sound of gospel music in the background. This is when I finally discovered it was the Catholic Mother’s Circle end of the year party. The day was filled with so many pleasant interactions, that my heart felt like sunshine. After eating three different portions of meat and some cake, I was escorted home by the chatter of three older women in the new darkness that the sun left us in. As we cut through the yards of cement houses, we walked through a group barefoot children playing with tires on the dirt road as we passed in and out from the street lights, the peace of the night tranquility and pride that this was my home. 

My Lucky Star Marathon

Friday, Oct. 3rd
Another hike to a new place - Swakopmund. This time I have my site mate, Jay, with me which is always nice to have company on the road. If I get lost, at least I am not lost alone.

Khorixas Hike Point with Jay

So, the adventure begins in 10-seater metallic green van with us two, eight adults and three children. The metal frame and tires thunder along the road as if it was turbulence on an airplane. Sometimes the car would be surrounded by a cloud of dust with nothing to see but swirling light brown particles. I got to see a different landscape than I did before of brushy bushes and mountainous hills in the distance. This time I also got to see flat land covered in rocks and sand dunes. If you know me, I am always carrying around a water bottle. Well, I think this leads to a fear unknown to until now...the dessert. Looking out the window there was a vast of nothing - which was beautiful, but also scary. My mind could only go to the van braking down and getting stuck on by his barely traveled road...what to do?! My heart races slightly when I forget to bring my water bottle on my walks in town. So, I think I found one of my most unwanted deaths...dehydration by getting lost in the dessert. Don't worry though, none of that happened! I did get to see some flat land with rocks, then some large random boulders, and then to sandy beaches. The sand reached rather far out inland which surprised me. Close to Swakop was this small little town that reminded me of a life size Lego Town. All the buildings were very colorful with block-like architecture.
The accommodation in Swakop was an A-frame house shared among 10(?) volunteers from different groups. It was really cute actually. There was a small kitchen, dining room, and one room downstairs and then upstairs was an open space with 4 full beds. I have always been fascinated with A-frame houses since at my family's lake house there was this unoccupied A-frame house that I always mused at from across the way growing up. So we pushed the twin beds downstairs together and the three runners slept there. The majority of the PCVs were actually marathon supporters- an excuse to see the beach and major tourist town.

Saturday, Oct. 4th
My first half marathon in Africa, The Lucky Star Half Marathon! It was a cloudy, foggy day. The full marathon and marathon relay started in Walvis Bay. Julia, Alicia and I were running the half though which was an out and back course.

Yeah - We Are Ready to Run!

Girl Runnin' Trio

I have ran the Austin Half twice and am used to thousands of runners. There was less than a thousand which I should of expected for a smaller country. The race was chipped and the majority of the runners were white except for a few running teams (I believe due to the entrance fee). We ran on a paved road with the Atlantic Ocean and beautiful red sand dunes on either side of me. I was constantly thinking of my family, in my head I was running for them especially my expecting sister and my little niece on the way. My sister nicknamed her daughter pumpkin since she was due late October and my mom, sister and I dressed up as pumpkins one year for New Braunfels Wurst 5 Mile run. So, I got a shirt made with a pumpkin on the back saying "Runnin for Pumpkins in the USA" and had my sister, niece,mom and sister-in-laws initials inside the pumpkin. I didn't realize how much running races made me think of my family.

My Pumpkin Shirt

It has become a tradition to run the Blue Bell Fun Run in Brenham which I missed in March...we are three ice cream cones. I was originally inspired when my sister ran in high school. I was later inspired by mom's effort of waking up at 4/4:30 in the morning to get to work early and skipping lunch break to use the gym. I have some tough girls in the family. They were both there for my first and second half marathon to cheer me on. We had so much fun and their energy really gave me strength to finish. Well, all their love and support across the Atlantic Ocean helped push me through one more! I was even the first girl PCV across the finish line!
I thought it couldn't be better of a day, until after the race I checked my phone and discovered I was an aunt to my beautiful niece, Miranda Kay! She was born October 3rd, but with the time difference it was the 4th for me! I secretly hoped she would be born the day of my race so it could be running more so for her. Well, this little wish came true and she came healthy and little early into the world! She just so happened to be "my lucky star" in the Lucky Star Marathon.

The Ladies that Inspire Me & "My Lucky Star"

Sunday, October 5th
I had just enough time to pack and I was out the door for my hike back to Khorixas using the same green van. I enjoyed my visit to Swakopmund, but it was cold and I didn't see the sun once!
I promised that I would be more thankful for the sun upon returning home. It turned into a long, hot dusty ride home - everyone was covered in a layer of dust and my lungs felt a little polluted with dust. Khorixas is definitely my home now, and there is that feeling of comfort and pride when I return back to her.

P.S. I saw this same van just the other day broken down, getting pulled to a garage to be fixed.

Beach Fun!