I woke the earliest I have on a Christmas Day since I was a small child. However, it was a wake up call from my frequently unfaithful bowel opposed to the excitement that used to be that got me out of bed. A lot of the day seemed pretty ordinary except for a few small differences.
At home in the UK my family stock up on Shloer and alcohol, use the posh china, lay the special tablecloth and all eat together. Here I was presented with a can of Fanta and two bottled ciders. I sat watching TV with the children (wearing their new shoes and clothes) for about 10 minutes before being told to eat. Rather than posh china and smart tablecloths the special treatment was actually having china and a tablecloth. AM was with his biological family and so I sat alone, but being Christmas I insisted the children ate with me and not outside in the sand.
The meal was larger and had more variety than usual; spaghetti, rice, onions, tomato soup sauce, mayonnaise and two pieces of chicken.
For the rest of the day I walked around Ndama with the youngsters. At one point I was sent with money to buy a bottle of wine and join some people to drink it in a small metallic hut. Later I caught up with an outdoor party. Music, dancing and more wine. By 5pm my summery Christmas, wine and dodgy stomach put me to bed for around 3 hours. When I woke up again I was presented with more fizzy drinks and cider. The constantly slightly bloated, sicky feeling reminded me of Christmas at home, just lacking the compulsory family boardgames.
The young lads would 'taste' the drinks and on 'family day' - as they call boxing day here, though the idea behind the name remains about the same - one boy, Mervin, smirked and said, reminiscing about the day before and shaking his head, "Us and those beers yesterday..."
Church - 28/12/11
As much as I hate being told about someone who is a better person than myself in every way (a valid reason to question their existence in the first place I'm sure) I went to church with AM and our host father. The service started at the ungodly hour of 7am on Sunday morning.
For many years I have only been to church on Christmas day, almost to justify celebrating it. Apart from that any other references to church in the UK will be based on what I remember from being a child, so bear with me.
Rundu churches are unlike our traditional bell tower, graveyard and gargoyle covered ones in England. They range from the type you see on the Simpsons to a basic, rectangular mud hut. Ours was like the former. On arrival it was full - people were on time! A peculiar occurrence what with 'African time'. The majority of the service was prayer and hymns. As with most things here they were performed with pride and volume. Everyone, bar me, sang all the hymns loudly, in tune and often with several harmonies. Even Oh When the Saints sounded great. Being a reserved nation our songs are often quietly groaned.
There was much more standing in the service here allowing my height to add to my colour in making my religious/cultural ignorance more than apparent. When not standing we knelt. The pews were just as wooden and uncomfortable as home but with no cushion on offer - I was praying to stand again.
On the more positive side there were no crying babies or toddlers running riot. The Lord's prayer was followed by showing one another 'the sign of peace'. We shook hands with all within arms reach whilst singing about God's blessings. However, as in England there were call and reply prayers that never fail to lack enthusiasm,
All in all it was a pleasant experience but it still remains that Church is not my thing regardless of the side of the hemisphere I am on.
For many years I have only been to church on Christmas day, almost to justify celebrating it. Apart from that any other references to church in the UK will be based on what I remember from being a child, so bear with me.
Rundu churches are unlike our traditional bell tower, graveyard and gargoyle covered ones in England. They range from the type you see on the Simpsons to a basic, rectangular mud hut. Ours was like the former. On arrival it was full - people were on time! A peculiar occurrence what with 'African time'. The majority of the service was prayer and hymns. As with most things here they were performed with pride and volume. Everyone, bar me, sang all the hymns loudly, in tune and often with several harmonies. Even Oh When the Saints sounded great. Being a reserved nation our songs are often quietly groaned.
There was much more standing in the service here allowing my height to add to my colour in making my religious/cultural ignorance more than apparent. When not standing we knelt. The pews were just as wooden and uncomfortable as home but with no cushion on offer - I was praying to stand again.
On the more positive side there were no crying babies or toddlers running riot. The Lord's prayer was followed by showing one another 'the sign of peace'. We shook hands with all within arms reach whilst singing about God's blessings. However, as in England there were call and reply prayers that never fail to lack enthusiasm,
All in all it was a pleasant experience but it still remains that Church is not my thing regardless of the side of the hemisphere I am on.
General Bits & Bobs from Namibia - 10/12/11
This post is just for a few bits I want to mention which hasn't been connected with previous posts. Also it's a chance to see some photos.
This is a bush fire we drove through on our way from Windhoek to Rundu. It was caused by a car accident and spread rapidly. Photos don’t do it justice.
In my house are three dogs, these are the younger two. The room they are in is the same room that some drunken bloke often sleeps in and I have to climb over if I need to use the toilet. The kitten turned up one day and so my host family decided it was theirs. Like the dogs it had no name. My use of past tense here is relevant. I had a conversation with Shady, 11, one of my host brothers recently after not seeing the kitten for a week…
Me: How many cats do you have?
Shady: One
Me: What about the baby cat?
Shady (very nonchalant): It’s dead
Me: What happened?
Shady (still nonchalant): The dogs killed it
…so it was mauled by the dogs, not that anyone cared.
This is a poster from one of the kindergartens explaining how to get revenge on an ex-girlfriend by going to the toilet near where they are eating.
Far left is Shady, 11, one of my host brothers busy playing with my iPod. The lad in the middle is Mervin, 13, another of my brothers. In front of him is Pauline, 6, my host sister with Chris Brown on her lap. He is one of the older brother’s child and is seen playing with my diabolo (after stealing it from my room) in the other photo. The other child is one I see a lot but is not related to my family. These are some of the many children that hang around my house. They like to hijack our room requesting diabolos, my iPod or to play cards.
Washing clothes in the river. It was quite a novelty for the many others washing to see a white male doing the same.
Our article in the national paper the Namibian Sun from the fun day we held.
World Aids Day - traditional dance performance. We helped set up the shelters and chairs as well as hand out posters.
Other bits
As well as those mentioned above, since being here I have had several new experiences:
A taxi driver pulling over to be served a drink and consume it out of his window whilst taking me to work.
Several dead dogs.
Puppies being sold for N$20, less than £2.
A man getting knocked down by a taxi who then got up and walked off.
The panic in Hungry Lion (like KFC) when a babies heart stopped. There is a very limited number of ambulances in Rundu. Luckily the child came back to life after a few worrying minutes.
Having children run up to me constantly just to ask “How are you?” or shout “I’m fine” from those who haven’t quite gotten the hang of it.
Children who I don't recognise yelling my name.
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This is a bush fire we drove through on our way from Windhoek to Rundu. It was caused by a car accident and spread rapidly. Photos don’t do it justice.
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In my house are three dogs, these are the younger two. The room they are in is the same room that some drunken bloke often sleeps in and I have to climb over if I need to use the toilet. The kitten turned up one day and so my host family decided it was theirs. Like the dogs it had no name. My use of past tense here is relevant. I had a conversation with Shady, 11, one of my host brothers recently after not seeing the kitten for a week…
Shady: One
Me: What about the baby cat?
Shady (very nonchalant): It’s dead
Me: What happened?
Shady (still nonchalant): The dogs killed it
…so it was mauled by the dogs, not that anyone cared.
This is a poster from one of the kindergartens explaining how to get revenge on an ex-girlfriend by going to the toilet near where they are eating.
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Far left is Shady, 11, one of my host brothers busy playing with my iPod. The lad in the middle is Mervin, 13, another of my brothers. In front of him is Pauline, 6, my host sister with Chris Brown on her lap. He is one of the older brother’s child and is seen playing with my diabolo (after stealing it from my room) in the other photo. The other child is one I see a lot but is not related to my family. These are some of the many children that hang around my house. They like to hijack our room requesting diabolos, my iPod or to play cards.
Washing clothes in the river. It was quite a novelty for the many others washing to see a white male doing the same.
Our article in the national paper the Namibian Sun from the fun day we held.
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World Aids Day - traditional dance performance. We helped set up the shelters and chairs as well as hand out posters.
Other bits
As well as those mentioned above, since being here I have had several new experiences:
A taxi driver pulling over to be served a drink and consume it out of his window whilst taking me to work.
Several dead dogs.
Puppies being sold for N$20, less than £2.
A man getting knocked down by a taxi who then got up and walked off.
The panic in Hungry Lion (like KFC) when a babies heart stopped. There is a very limited number of ambulances in Rundu. Luckily the child came back to life after a few worrying minutes.
Having children run up to me constantly just to ask “How are you?” or shout “I’m fine” from those who haven’t quite gotten the hang of it.
Children who I don't recognise yelling my name.
Building Playgrounds - 10/12/11
Since the kindergartens closed for the summer our team has taken on several new projects. Still associated with the Mehozetu Network we have a team working on educational resources such as a teachers pack with all the ideas and more that we have bought to the kindergartens. A Special Olympics group have accepted the help from several volunteers and we are all about to hold a summer school for 13-15 year olds. The project I am working on is building playgrounds for the kindergartens and this is what I am going to talk about in this post as the title suggests.
Currently the network is having safe buildings built in all the kindergartens and a couple are changing plots. There are also a few already with functioning playgrounds and so we have limited ourselves to 8 playgrounds. Up until the week just gone we have been collecting materials and deciding what will be built. A supermarket, OK foods, donated 9 old wooden pallets which we intended to make 'shop fronts' out of for the kids to role-play with. TrenTyres and Tyre Rack (tyre places with unimaginative but practical names) have donated old tyres to us. However, most successfully a hardware store called Cola Cola Hardware agreed to generously sponsor our materials. A couple of unemployed, local, skilled labourers offered their help in building (drilling, sawing, mixing cement etc.).
We came up with a design and showed Natalie and Nelson, the couple who own Cola Cola, and they phoned around all over town getting hold of large wooden poles, paint, rods, bolts, nails, rope and more.
Part of the climbing frame in progress
Along the way we’ve had several hick ups, ones that made it look like we were going to have to give up. First apparently nowhere in town had enough wooden poles which was soon solved when we found out an order of 400 were on their way from South Africa this week. Then we overlooked the fact we’d need concrete to make the climbing frames stand. Again this was solved almost straight away when Anneke, a volunteer working with Mehozetu, contacted a builder friend, Glen, who worked out a deal for us. Most recently was when the first climbing frame was put together then we realised all the threaded rods were in a condition that the bolts could not be attached – just like every other issue it was solved within that day when my host dad showed me some tools to fix the issue.
The frame so far
Clara demonstrating how to use the frame
This past week Glen, the said unemployed locals and us (the GX playground committee) have put together 4 almost complete frames and installed them in kindergartens. It looks like the picture above. We are still to place another tyre on top of the one in the image, bury some as stepping stones as well as some smaller poles, lay down large tyres and install rope swings. Once complete the more creative types on our team will paint it.
After putting the frames together a GX volunteer, Megan, explained to Glen how great the other helpers were and how they were looking for work. Glen then offered them a job starting Monday helping with the buildings I previously mentioned - a great by-product from our work and a wonderful thank you for their incredible contribution.
Currently the network is having safe buildings built in all the kindergartens and a couple are changing plots. There are also a few already with functioning playgrounds and so we have limited ourselves to 8 playgrounds. Up until the week just gone we have been collecting materials and deciding what will be built. A supermarket, OK foods, donated 9 old wooden pallets which we intended to make 'shop fronts' out of for the kids to role-play with. TrenTyres and Tyre Rack (tyre places with unimaginative but practical names) have donated old tyres to us. However, most successfully a hardware store called Cola Cola Hardware agreed to generously sponsor our materials. A couple of unemployed, local, skilled labourers offered their help in building (drilling, sawing, mixing cement etc.).
We came up with a design and showed Natalie and Nelson, the couple who own Cola Cola, and they phoned around all over town getting hold of large wooden poles, paint, rods, bolts, nails, rope and more.
Along the way we’ve had several hick ups, ones that made it look like we were going to have to give up. First apparently nowhere in town had enough wooden poles which was soon solved when we found out an order of 400 were on their way from South Africa this week. Then we overlooked the fact we’d need concrete to make the climbing frames stand. Again this was solved almost straight away when Anneke, a volunteer working with Mehozetu, contacted a builder friend, Glen, who worked out a deal for us. Most recently was when the first climbing frame was put together then we realised all the threaded rods were in a condition that the bolts could not be attached – just like every other issue it was solved within that day when my host dad showed me some tools to fix the issue.
This past week Glen, the said unemployed locals and us (the GX playground committee) have put together 4 almost complete frames and installed them in kindergartens. It looks like the picture above. We are still to place another tyre on top of the one in the image, bury some as stepping stones as well as some smaller poles, lay down large tyres and install rope swings. Once complete the more creative types on our team will paint it.
After putting the frames together a GX volunteer, Megan, explained to Glen how great the other helpers were and how they were looking for work. Glen then offered them a job starting Monday helping with the buildings I previously mentioned - a great by-product from our work and a wonderful thank you for their incredible contribution.
Kindergarten Placement 4, Sindanno - 10/12/11
Due to little access to internet I am slightly behind on posts and so this refers to a couple of weeks ago.
The fourth and final kindergarten Ester and I worked in was Sindanno, the final one because the schools were closing for Summer. Sindanno is, in my opinion, the best kindergarten for resources. There are two classrooms with boards and posters, several offices, toilets, a kitchen, a vegetable garden and a large playground with swings, slides and climbing frames. Just the plot itself is large.
Previous GX volunteers had introduced a timetable, gardening scheme, educational songs and a few other things. Being the last week of the year we decided not to be too intense since they have had all sorts to take on from the weeks before. I bought in a team/house point system to help the teachers focus on praising the children for being good rather than just punishing those who are bad.
One of the days the teachers took the children to remove the tomato plants from the garden. At one point the teacher suddenly started shouting in her local language and all the children ran away – I stood looking on unknowingly. Eventually it became apparent that the teacher found a snake amongst the plants. A child bought a large stick for her to lift the leaves up with to reveal the snake, at which point Ester ran too. It was around 4 inches long and not poisonous however the teacher continued to whack it with the stick. After several hits she called for an even bigger stick and with it crippled the snake further. She then hooked it on the stick and took it out of the garden where she, and around 10 children, ensured it wasn't coming back by all simultaneously smacking the snake with even more sticks for about 5 minutes.
On the last day the winning house got sweets and a large meal of liver and rice was cooked for everyone. Lots of games were played and reports were handed out. Some children passed and progressed onto grade 1 where as others passed but for some unknown reason did not progress. The grades on the report cards didn't seem to determine whether they moved to grade 1 or not but having worked with the children all year the teachers knew who was ready and who wasn't.
The fourth and final kindergarten Ester and I worked in was Sindanno, the final one because the schools were closing for Summer. Sindanno is, in my opinion, the best kindergarten for resources. There are two classrooms with boards and posters, several offices, toilets, a kitchen, a vegetable garden and a large playground with swings, slides and climbing frames. Just the plot itself is large.
Previous GX volunteers had introduced a timetable, gardening scheme, educational songs and a few other things. Being the last week of the year we decided not to be too intense since they have had all sorts to take on from the weeks before. I bought in a team/house point system to help the teachers focus on praising the children for being good rather than just punishing those who are bad.
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One of the days the teachers took the children to remove the tomato plants from the garden. At one point the teacher suddenly started shouting in her local language and all the children ran away – I stood looking on unknowingly. Eventually it became apparent that the teacher found a snake amongst the plants. A child bought a large stick for her to lift the leaves up with to reveal the snake, at which point Ester ran too. It was around 4 inches long and not poisonous however the teacher continued to whack it with the stick. After several hits she called for an even bigger stick and with it crippled the snake further. She then hooked it on the stick and took it out of the garden where she, and around 10 children, ensured it wasn't coming back by all simultaneously smacking the snake with even more sticks for about 5 minutes.
On the last day the winning house got sweets and a large meal of liver and rice was cooked for everyone. Lots of games were played and reports were handed out. Some children passed and progressed onto grade 1 where as others passed but for some unknown reason did not progress. The grades on the report cards didn't seem to determine whether they moved to grade 1 or not but having worked with the children all year the teachers knew who was ready and who wasn't.
Kindergarten Placement 3, Tupandeni - 30/11/11
Our third kindergarten was one of two with the fewest resources, Tupandeni. Shade is offered by three small trees and there was no real shelter. The position of the class will slowly change with the suns position to avoid having any children in the hot sun for too long. Lessons are taken out in the sand and if it rains too much the day is called off.
In our week there we were lucky enough to have cloudy weather and so it was slightly cooler than usual. We did the usual activities with the teachers and kids that we have tried in other kindergartens. The Hokey Cokey was also introduced which the teacher asked to be written down for her to do in the future. An emphasis was also put on positive feedback, praise, instead of just telling the children off or twisting their ears.
The activity that we hadn’t done before and stood out was sand castles. Since the rain had fallen over night the sand was mouldable and so armed with plastic cups the kids got to work building. One made a house (or the floor plan at least) and her friends placed their bags in the storage room once being welcomed through the entrance and given a tour. A couple of boys built forts and used sticks to make trebuchets and acted out medieval battles. There were imaginative creations as well as very neat, practical buildings – a skill that may prove useful as many build their homes here out of mud and sticks. Ester built a six-legged turtle, the six-legged part being added after realising she had forgotten what a turtle looked like and built too many limbs. What animals look like seems to be a problem for members of the team. One, Toni, said "Wow, is that a lion?" and I had to correct her telling her it was a donkey. Another, Kiera, was drawing a pig and asked "I've forgotten what pigs look like, do they have mouths?".
Behaviour in the kindergarten varied. There was one child who could potentially cry all day for no reason and if you try to help her she would thump you. Some of the older girls showered their authority through fighting but in general they were a well behaved group. In fact the largest problem, as with a lot of the kindergartens, was eating…eating of the objects found on the floor. Among many other items nail polish, wires and glass are just some examples. The nail varnish was being sucked from the lid and when I removed it from the child’s mouth she, of course, burst into tears.
In our week there we were lucky enough to have cloudy weather and so it was slightly cooler than usual. We did the usual activities with the teachers and kids that we have tried in other kindergartens. The Hokey Cokey was also introduced which the teacher asked to be written down for her to do in the future. An emphasis was also put on positive feedback, praise, instead of just telling the children off or twisting their ears.
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The activity that we hadn’t done before and stood out was sand castles. Since the rain had fallen over night the sand was mouldable and so armed with plastic cups the kids got to work building. One made a house (or the floor plan at least) and her friends placed their bags in the storage room once being welcomed through the entrance and given a tour. A couple of boys built forts and used sticks to make trebuchets and acted out medieval battles. There were imaginative creations as well as very neat, practical buildings – a skill that may prove useful as many build their homes here out of mud and sticks. Ester built a six-legged turtle, the six-legged part being added after realising she had forgotten what a turtle looked like and built too many limbs. What animals look like seems to be a problem for members of the team. One, Toni, said "Wow, is that a lion?" and I had to correct her telling her it was a donkey. Another, Kiera, was drawing a pig and asked "I've forgotten what pigs look like, do they have mouths?".
Behaviour in the kindergarten varied. There was one child who could potentially cry all day for no reason and if you try to help her she would thump you. Some of the older girls showered their authority through fighting but in general they were a well behaved group. In fact the largest problem, as with a lot of the kindergartens, was eating…eating of the objects found on the floor. Among many other items nail polish, wires and glass are just some examples. The nail varnish was being sucked from the lid and when I removed it from the child’s mouth she, of course, burst into tears.
Kindergarten Placement 2, Pandureni - 15/11/11 [Photos to Come]
Compared to Austen, Pandureni kindergarten was far more limited in terms of resources. They had one building which is due to be knocked down since it is dangerous and a tree for shelter. Inside the building it was sandy and had no lights, only the uncovered doors and windows. No posters were on the walls. If something needed to be stuck on the wall the teacher would ask the children to spit out gum if they were chewing it to use it as blue tac. Cooking was done outside but we only saw food once all week because they ran out. There was a building with a toilet in but not to the standard you can expect in the UK.
The younger children were taught in the building and the ones due to go to primary school were kept under the shadow of the tree. Tables and chairs were provided but were stored in the teacher’s home and the children would run back and forth to collect them as well as other materials. Since one teacher was ill on our first day we took the younger children, teaching them body parts and introducing discipline, usually getting a misbehaving individual to do the activity on their own in front of the class. One occasion Ester bought a child to the front and got the rest of the kids to laugh at him – a technique I wasn’t too keen on but preferred to the usual stick melee to the head the teachers offered.
For the rest of the week we helped with the older children since we noticed they were nowhere near ready for primary school. In Namibia schools are taught in English and these kids had only ever written in the sand. When we got them to write on paper letters were sideways, upside down and reversed. Only a few could get close to writing their own names. So writing was the area focused on for the week. Also shapes were unknown, some not even the teacher knew and we are talking basics – square, rectangle, triangle and circle. So we taught the teacher and she began to teach the children.
Similar games were played with the children as were in Austen. Both kindergartens loved bulldog style games, if you remember bulldog from school days. Some just wanted to be picked up so would run at you presenting their arms, but most enjoyed the challenge of dodging us. Once out they would still enjoy just watching their friends being caught. Football is also always popular with the children, as well as a relay game where they are in two queues and must pass a ball back between their legs and the last in the queue runs to the front. Frequently a smaller child would fall backwards causing a domino effect. Running around was always well received despite the copious amounts of thorns lodging themselves in the children's feet.
At the end of the week the teachers told me they had learnt a lot and were very thankful for our help and so I hope they have taken something away to continue a great job there.
The younger children were taught in the building and the ones due to go to primary school were kept under the shadow of the tree. Tables and chairs were provided but were stored in the teacher’s home and the children would run back and forth to collect them as well as other materials. Since one teacher was ill on our first day we took the younger children, teaching them body parts and introducing discipline, usually getting a misbehaving individual to do the activity on their own in front of the class. One occasion Ester bought a child to the front and got the rest of the kids to laugh at him – a technique I wasn’t too keen on but preferred to the usual stick melee to the head the teachers offered.
For the rest of the week we helped with the older children since we noticed they were nowhere near ready for primary school. In Namibia schools are taught in English and these kids had only ever written in the sand. When we got them to write on paper letters were sideways, upside down and reversed. Only a few could get close to writing their own names. So writing was the area focused on for the week. Also shapes were unknown, some not even the teacher knew and we are talking basics – square, rectangle, triangle and circle. So we taught the teacher and she began to teach the children.
Similar games were played with the children as were in Austen. Both kindergartens loved bulldog style games, if you remember bulldog from school days. Some just wanted to be picked up so would run at you presenting their arms, but most enjoyed the challenge of dodging us. Once out they would still enjoy just watching their friends being caught. Football is also always popular with the children, as well as a relay game where they are in two queues and must pass a ball back between their legs and the last in the queue runs to the front. Frequently a smaller child would fall backwards causing a domino effect. Running around was always well received despite the copious amounts of thorns lodging themselves in the children's feet.
At the end of the week the teachers told me they had learnt a lot and were very thankful for our help and so I hope they have taken something away to continue a great job there.
Kindergarten Placement 1, Austen - 15/11/11
Our placements are with the kindergartens of the Mehozetu project. Most start at 8am and finish at 12am and can have anywhere between 40 and 150 kids.
My work partner Ester and I were placed for the first two weeks in a kindergarten called Austen. Out of the ten possible kindergartens I would put Austen in the top four. It had about 60 children. They have a couple of rooms in a church – one to take classes in and the other for cooking and storage. Resources were pretty good too, there are posters on the walls (colours, shapes, animals, numbers and alphabet); tables and chairs for both the children and the teachers; a hob oven for cooking; a couple of footballs; and plenty of paper/pens/colouring books etc. On top of this they had a three walled metal barn with concrete floor outside and a big tree, both offering plenty of shade.
On most days a good lunch was cooked for everyone. On a day where the water had gone down (usually due to rain in the area and we are now entering rainy season) no food or drink was provided. There also was no toilet so children would run off and wee in the bushes.
Each kindergarten has a black box with pre-primary starter packs including things like bean bags and puzzles. Austen had more than most in the box but the organisation of it was an issue. Teachers would hand out puzzles to each table but all the puzzles were mixed together. It is difficult enough for the kids to complete a puzzle without the pieces being mixed. The same went for other game such as a board with shapes cut into it with corresponding pieces to place in.
Our main job is to offer help to the teachers, all of which are volunteers, giving them new ideas and empowering them. Here the teachers were very willing to try new things and if we suggested an activity or even took a session they both would happily join in. This is great since once we go they will be left to their own devices. Others have said their teachers will leave or sleep for hours at a time during the day so this was brilliant news for Austen.
Most the children could read and write their names but something like the alphabet, days of the week or counting was less familiar. Sure they could sing the days of the week to the tune of Oh my Darling Clementine (or Cher Lloyd’s Swagger Jagger if you wish) but if you were to point at the word ‘Wednesday’ they were lost. This very regimental chanting carried over to all the previously mentioned. Ester and I focused on the alphabet and colours so asked the teachers to request the kindergarten kids to collect bottle caps so we could make letter counters. On the way home that day we saw lots of them already searching through the sand for the lids. We also bought some cheap coloured, plastic bangles. We introduced activities to the teachers to help the kids identify between letters and colours in ways other than just remembering a list.
Ester decided it would be nice to hold a photo day for them as most hadn't even seen a picture of themselves. All the children turned up in their cleanest attires and had their hair done smartly. With my digital camera we photographed each child, printed out the photos at a local shop and got the kids to make frames. They were all grinning, showing one another and laughing and so it was good to give them something to take home.
The first two weeks ended with the fun camp I previously blogged about where our kindergarten wore necklaces with their name and coloured beads. They performed a selection of songs that the teachers taught them.
My work partner Ester and I were placed for the first two weeks in a kindergarten called Austen. Out of the ten possible kindergartens I would put Austen in the top four. It had about 60 children. They have a couple of rooms in a church – one to take classes in and the other for cooking and storage. Resources were pretty good too, there are posters on the walls (colours, shapes, animals, numbers and alphabet); tables and chairs for both the children and the teachers; a hob oven for cooking; a couple of footballs; and plenty of paper/pens/colouring books etc. On top of this they had a three walled metal barn with concrete floor outside and a big tree, both offering plenty of shade.
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On most days a good lunch was cooked for everyone. On a day where the water had gone down (usually due to rain in the area and we are now entering rainy season) no food or drink was provided. There also was no toilet so children would run off and wee in the bushes.
Each kindergarten has a black box with pre-primary starter packs including things like bean bags and puzzles. Austen had more than most in the box but the organisation of it was an issue. Teachers would hand out puzzles to each table but all the puzzles were mixed together. It is difficult enough for the kids to complete a puzzle without the pieces being mixed. The same went for other game such as a board with shapes cut into it with corresponding pieces to place in.
Our main job is to offer help to the teachers, all of which are volunteers, giving them new ideas and empowering them. Here the teachers were very willing to try new things and if we suggested an activity or even took a session they both would happily join in. This is great since once we go they will be left to their own devices. Others have said their teachers will leave or sleep for hours at a time during the day so this was brilliant news for Austen.
Most the children could read and write their names but something like the alphabet, days of the week or counting was less familiar. Sure they could sing the days of the week to the tune of Oh my Darling Clementine (or Cher Lloyd’s Swagger Jagger if you wish) but if you were to point at the word ‘Wednesday’ they were lost. This very regimental chanting carried over to all the previously mentioned. Ester and I focused on the alphabet and colours so asked the teachers to request the kindergarten kids to collect bottle caps so we could make letter counters. On the way home that day we saw lots of them already searching through the sand for the lids. We also bought some cheap coloured, plastic bangles. We introduced activities to the teachers to help the kids identify between letters and colours in ways other than just remembering a list.
Ester decided it would be nice to hold a photo day for them as most hadn't even seen a picture of themselves. All the children turned up in their cleanest attires and had their hair done smartly. With my digital camera we photographed each child, printed out the photos at a local shop and got the kids to make frames. They were all grinning, showing one another and laughing and so it was good to give them something to take home.
The first two weeks ended with the fun camp I previously blogged about where our kindergarten wore necklaces with their name and coloured beads. They performed a selection of songs that the teachers taught them.
Mehozetu Fun Camp - 12/11/11
Rundu sports centre hosted a fun camp for the children from our kindergartens on 4th November. The GX team played a massive part, working along side the teachers, to organise the activities and run the event.
Due to start at 8am (which means arrive at 9am in Namibia) the groups of children, making up around 550 in total, began to arrive. A common way of transportation here is a 'backy'. Whenever I get a lift from my host family this is how I travel. It is essentially an open backed truck (pick up truck) and the passengers just sit on the edge of the trailer part – no belts or seats. Being groups of up to 80 kids at a time the backies they came in had a large fencing around, the kind of vehicle seen to carry sheep or pigs. Adults wouldn't be allowed to travel in these conditions in England, no doubt groups of 3 to 7 year olds.
Arriving dressed accordingly to their chosen themes, e.g. rainbow, doctors/nurses, Noah's Ark and cats, the kindergartens climbed up the arena style seating. Between each level of seating was a massive chasm, some with a drop as high as 7 feet. Shoes and bags became victim to these gaps throughout the day however the children themselves were fine (even if they did decide to follow their sandals down under the seating to get them back). Once all seated each group presented a little show – some did traditional dances, others songs. A couple did games such as a version of marco polo, an interesting choice of performance.
After all the performances had been 'watched' by the restless children they took part in the stations we put together. Parachute games, facepaint, marshmallows hanging from strings, tug of war and the one I was situated on, obstacle courses. This consisted of crawling under a net, stepping through tyres, balancing bean bags then dribbling balls around cones. Not speaking their language some parts weren’t understood. Not a single group dribbled the balls and just booted them instead. Often it resorted to me slapping bean bags on kids heads and letting them run around. Another group just wanted me to throw bean bags at them and let them chase after. However they all seemed to have fun with the activities.
One volunteer, Gareth, got so frustrated with the non-English speaking children that he started saying "Look, at the end of the day this is for your benefit and not mine..." and continued to moan about their lack of cooperation with tug of war.
After all the activities disintigrated into madness they started lunch which we had packed the night before. The day went very well and we were all relieved it was finished – I have just submitted a small article to Mike, a Mehozetu worker, to pass on to national papers so hopefully a copy of that will be appearing on here soon with photos.
[Update: Here is the link to the news article.]
Due to start at 8am (which means arrive at 9am in Namibia) the groups of children, making up around 550 in total, began to arrive. A common way of transportation here is a 'backy'. Whenever I get a lift from my host family this is how I travel. It is essentially an open backed truck (pick up truck) and the passengers just sit on the edge of the trailer part – no belts or seats. Being groups of up to 80 kids at a time the backies they came in had a large fencing around, the kind of vehicle seen to carry sheep or pigs. Adults wouldn't be allowed to travel in these conditions in England, no doubt groups of 3 to 7 year olds.
Arriving dressed accordingly to their chosen themes, e.g. rainbow, doctors/nurses, Noah's Ark and cats, the kindergartens climbed up the arena style seating. Between each level of seating was a massive chasm, some with a drop as high as 7 feet. Shoes and bags became victim to these gaps throughout the day however the children themselves were fine (even if they did decide to follow their sandals down under the seating to get them back). Once all seated each group presented a little show – some did traditional dances, others songs. A couple did games such as a version of marco polo, an interesting choice of performance.
After all the performances had been 'watched' by the restless children they took part in the stations we put together. Parachute games, facepaint, marshmallows hanging from strings, tug of war and the one I was situated on, obstacle courses. This consisted of crawling under a net, stepping through tyres, balancing bean bags then dribbling balls around cones. Not speaking their language some parts weren’t understood. Not a single group dribbled the balls and just booted them instead. Often it resorted to me slapping bean bags on kids heads and letting them run around. Another group just wanted me to throw bean bags at them and let them chase after. However they all seemed to have fun with the activities.
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One volunteer, Gareth, got so frustrated with the non-English speaking children that he started saying "Look, at the end of the day this is for your benefit and not mine..." and continued to moan about their lack of cooperation with tug of war.
After all the activities disintigrated into madness they started lunch which we had packed the night before. The day went very well and we were all relieved it was finished – I have just submitted a small article to Mike, a Mehozetu worker, to pass on to national papers so hopefully a copy of that will be appearing on here soon with photos.
[Update: Here is the link to the news article.]
Global Citizenship Day - 12/11/11
As part of the programme every Wednesday a counterpart pair must hold a 'Global Citizenship Day' (GCD) with the aim to educate the team and maybe others about big global issues. Without conferring with me, AM nominated us to take the first one giving us just a week to prepare. Not having much time to research any areas we spoke to our host family to see what issue was a problem in Rundu – poverty was chosen with the theme "Collective action to combat poverty in our surroundings".
Accommodating for 400 students and a part of the only university in Namibia, Rundu campus was the host to our 'Global Citizenship Day' (GCD). I took the morning session with the GX team defining poverty and discussing causes of it. A lot of in depth discussions took place which made my job easier as all I had to do was listen. As a final activity I got the team to choose specific parts of the morning's session that we'd want to bring up on the evening panel we had organised.
Gareth and AM represented us on the panel along with several chairpersons from societies from the university. A concept paper on the topic and theme was given to each panellist who researched the topic. The panel discussion took place in the evening and members of the university as well as the GX team were in the audience. Starting late (in Namibia it is fashionable to turn up to events, no matter how formal, around an hour late) and with the first rain and thunder/lightning of the rainy season smashing on the roof the discussion began. A lot was drowned out by rain but the majority was ok. One topic that kept arising for some strange reason was whether China was impoverished or not despite being over populated. The assumption by most panellists, who knew nothing of China, was there is no poverty in China, much to the annoyance to a particular UK volunteer with Asian roots.
Finally a social worker who we managed to talk into coming the day before gave a speech on the topic. My favourite cause of poverty she gave was along the lines of Namibian men having five girlfriends then getting them all pregnant and being unable to provide for them.
This post is just to inform you of some of the work we are doing outside of the Mehozetu Project. Since we have had a GCD on alcohol and drug abuse and we have health, crime, unemployment and several other topics to be covered.
Accommodating for 400 students and a part of the only university in Namibia, Rundu campus was the host to our 'Global Citizenship Day' (GCD). I took the morning session with the GX team defining poverty and discussing causes of it. A lot of in depth discussions took place which made my job easier as all I had to do was listen. As a final activity I got the team to choose specific parts of the morning's session that we'd want to bring up on the evening panel we had organised.
Gareth and AM represented us on the panel along with several chairpersons from societies from the university. A concept paper on the topic and theme was given to each panellist who researched the topic. The panel discussion took place in the evening and members of the university as well as the GX team were in the audience. Starting late (in Namibia it is fashionable to turn up to events, no matter how formal, around an hour late) and with the first rain and thunder/lightning of the rainy season smashing on the roof the discussion began. A lot was drowned out by rain but the majority was ok. One topic that kept arising for some strange reason was whether China was impoverished or not despite being over populated. The assumption by most panellists, who knew nothing of China, was there is no poverty in China, much to the annoyance to a particular UK volunteer with Asian roots.
Finally a social worker who we managed to talk into coming the day before gave a speech on the topic. My favourite cause of poverty she gave was along the lines of Namibian men having five girlfriends then getting them all pregnant and being unable to provide for them.
This post is just to inform you of some of the work we are doing outside of the Mehozetu Project. Since we have had a GCD on alcohol and drug abuse and we have health, crime, unemployment and several other topics to be covered.
Host Home - 01/11/11
We are living in host homes (HH) with our counterpart. The idea of a host home is that we are essentially given a temporary family for our stay and we must adapt to their way of living.
The Building we are Staying in
Initial impressions of the HH weren't great. It was the first time away from the rest of the group and so was overwhelming and scary. After having a meeting with Ngongo (the head of the house) and his wife about our volunteer/host agreements all seemed less worrying. One item discussed was household chores. Ngongo and his wife laughed at the idea of us helping with the dishes and explained "If you were girls, then yes we would want you to, but you are boys!" Namibia is looking good.
The house consists of three buildings. I will discuss two, the guest house where we are staying and the toilet building.
Bedroom
Our bedroom is small and extremely hot. Even writing this I was sweating. We have a fan and a radio and two single beds with mosquito nets. The wall does not meet the roof all the way around and the roof is corrugated metal. I have had a potentially poisonous spider by my bed the whole duration of my stay. Our room is, however, the only in the guest building that has a concrete floor, covered with a loose carpet. The other rooms are all sandy and yet to be completed. Our neighbouring room has people staying there on the floor every so often.
Our Bedroom
Dining Room
Again, concrete walls with a metal roof. The floor is sand. We are given a tiny table and bring our plastic chairs from our room through to sit on. Still, it's a roof and is safe. The stray dogs often pop their heads through the door whilst we eat.
The Dining Room
Bathroom
A separate building to all others. It has a sink, a toilet and a shower but no hot water. This is actually one of the better bathrooms here in Rundu. Others are just holes in the ground with sheets held up by sticks to cover. I have accidentally witnessed a man taking a dump else where.
The Insect Infested Shower
Residents
The house is on quite a large plot of sand with a couple of trees and a shelter where the women cook. There are always different people here and they come and go, including a dozen or so children. Ngongo has 10 children in total, 9 of them boys (good sperm) and the older ones help with his business. There are three dogs that live there. I asked Ngongo and he said they are his but they don't have names and his ownership of them is based on the fact he found them in his garden. Also one cat. One person is only seen around dinner time when he gets hungry - the rest of his time is spent at the bar. The mother doesn't speak English but we can greet each other in Afrikaans.
Initial impressions of the HH weren't great. It was the first time away from the rest of the group and so was overwhelming and scary. After having a meeting with Ngongo (the head of the house) and his wife about our volunteer/host agreements all seemed less worrying. One item discussed was household chores. Ngongo and his wife laughed at the idea of us helping with the dishes and explained "If you were girls, then yes we would want you to, but you are boys!" Namibia is looking good.
The house consists of three buildings. I will discuss two, the guest house where we are staying and the toilet building.
Bedroom
Our bedroom is small and extremely hot. Even writing this I was sweating. We have a fan and a radio and two single beds with mosquito nets. The wall does not meet the roof all the way around and the roof is corrugated metal. I have had a potentially poisonous spider by my bed the whole duration of my stay. Our room is, however, the only in the guest building that has a concrete floor, covered with a loose carpet. The other rooms are all sandy and yet to be completed. Our neighbouring room has people staying there on the floor every so often.
Dining Room
Again, concrete walls with a metal roof. The floor is sand. We are given a tiny table and bring our plastic chairs from our room through to sit on. Still, it's a roof and is safe. The stray dogs often pop their heads through the door whilst we eat.
Bathroom
A separate building to all others. It has a sink, a toilet and a shower but no hot water. This is actually one of the better bathrooms here in Rundu. Others are just holes in the ground with sheets held up by sticks to cover. I have accidentally witnessed a man taking a dump else where.
Residents
The house is on quite a large plot of sand with a couple of trees and a shelter where the women cook. There are always different people here and they come and go, including a dozen or so children. Ngongo has 10 children in total, 9 of them boys (good sperm) and the older ones help with his business. There are three dogs that live there. I asked Ngongo and he said they are his but they don't have names and his ownership of them is based on the fact he found them in his garden. Also one cat. One person is only seen around dinner time when he gets hungry - the rest of his time is spent at the bar. The mother doesn't speak English but we can greet each other in Afrikaans.
Picking Up Women Namibian Style - 01/11/11
To sum up mens' attitude towards women in Namibia I recall one comment made to me by a Namibian male: "Why don't you take [girls name]?". The important word is 'take' and this is literally a common way of thinking: women are there for the taking.
Now, I'm not trying to make out that I or the men of Britain are all perfect gentlemen. We're not. Most of us have done our fair share of insensitive chauvinistic acts. However Namibian men are repeat offenders and openly discuss it with a level of pride. Long story short I quote a volunteer who has been here for a while "Namibian men cheat."
I know this sounds like a nasty stereotype but I am yet to talk to a man here who has shown me otherwise. Having a girlfriend doesn't stop you being single; dating multiple women is a skill to flaunt; and excessively complimenting women is a sure way to get them into the sack. The sweet talk is a topic I will discuss further – the art of chatting up.
It isn't uncommon for a man to stand staring shamelessly at a women in a bar. If you want to speak to a girl then forget all social etiquette you already know. Point at the girl until she notices you then with a small hand gesture summon them over. Now, small talk still plays a part in chatting up in this culture but the talk is really kept small. Just "Hello, how are you?" and an introduction will suffice. Next step, tell them to give you their number. Tell – not ask. Maybe as she leaves request their company sometime. Company, I can only assume, is of a sexual nature, or 'being welcomed' as some have put it so nicely.
Alternatively the initial contact doesn't have to be pointing. If a friend knows a passer-by then you can just yell the strangers name. Then, of course, wave over and continue as above. What they are doing doesn't matter – a man's needs are for more important.
Once you have successfully done one of the mentioned methods move onto the next lady. Loaded with female numbers the smooth talk starts. "Beautiful lady" or "you are the one" are common phrases used in back to back phone calls to different women. "I love you" certainly lacks meaning and is just a tool for woo-ing. Admittedly this isn't unheard of in the UK either.
You won't be surprised that the multiple-person-dating isn't reciprocated by the more honest, loyal half of our species – women. This would be out of order. Double-standards at it's best.
I, myself, and what I hope is the same for most men, have never cheated and don't intend to. Still, I must praise the men of Namibia for being able to keep up with several girls at once. Keeping one happy is hard enough work in my opinion. Also the girls must be given credit for their tolerance. We have warned the Namibian guys that these tactics in the UK may attract a slap.
Now, I'm not trying to make out that I or the men of Britain are all perfect gentlemen. We're not. Most of us have done our fair share of insensitive chauvinistic acts. However Namibian men are repeat offenders and openly discuss it with a level of pride. Long story short I quote a volunteer who has been here for a while "Namibian men cheat."
I know this sounds like a nasty stereotype but I am yet to talk to a man here who has shown me otherwise. Having a girlfriend doesn't stop you being single; dating multiple women is a skill to flaunt; and excessively complimenting women is a sure way to get them into the sack. The sweet talk is a topic I will discuss further – the art of chatting up.
It isn't uncommon for a man to stand staring shamelessly at a women in a bar. If you want to speak to a girl then forget all social etiquette you already know. Point at the girl until she notices you then with a small hand gesture summon them over. Now, small talk still plays a part in chatting up in this culture but the talk is really kept small. Just "Hello, how are you?" and an introduction will suffice. Next step, tell them to give you their number. Tell – not ask. Maybe as she leaves request their company sometime. Company, I can only assume, is of a sexual nature, or 'being welcomed' as some have put it so nicely.
Alternatively the initial contact doesn't have to be pointing. If a friend knows a passer-by then you can just yell the strangers name. Then, of course, wave over and continue as above. What they are doing doesn't matter – a man's needs are for more important.
Once you have successfully done one of the mentioned methods move onto the next lady. Loaded with female numbers the smooth talk starts. "Beautiful lady" or "you are the one" are common phrases used in back to back phone calls to different women. "I love you" certainly lacks meaning and is just a tool for woo-ing. Admittedly this isn't unheard of in the UK either.
You won't be surprised that the multiple-person-dating isn't reciprocated by the more honest, loyal half of our species – women. This would be out of order. Double-standards at it's best.
I, myself, and what I hope is the same for most men, have never cheated and don't intend to. Still, I must praise the men of Namibia for being able to keep up with several girls at once. Keeping one happy is hard enough work in my opinion. Also the girls must be given credit for their tolerance. We have warned the Namibian guys that these tactics in the UK may attract a slap.
Hair Cut - 31/10/11
AM wanted a haircut. I foolishly saw this as an opportunity to fix my disaster of a hair-do previously cut by a friend who had never cut hair before. She left me with a very well defined layer near the front of my head. It looked like a toupee on top of a long fringe. Surely a Rundu salon can save it.
AM and I got a taxi to a tiny concrete building that didn't look too different to an old bunker; the type you might find by a canal that has been taken over by coke addicts as a drug den. The only difference visible from outside are the words 'Beauty Salon' painted on. Instead of a canal there was sand and inside instead of crack addicts there were men armed with clippers. Lighting was very dim and the furniture was tatty, there was a picture of Will Smith among other men with hairstyles beyond the capability of the hairdressers here. Of course a large mirror was on the wall and there was an extension cord for the shavers. Compared to most salons here (which there are many) this was nice. Others were just metal or wooden huts, one of which cleverly named 'Tacky Hair Salon'.
I told AM I wanted a trim, just a little shorter. AM explains. The barber offers to remove my stubble too at no extra cost. Why not accept a free shave? Besides most don't shave themselves here.
Covered in sweat with my hair sticking to my face I am sat down to begin. No washing, combing or touching of the hair was done. Zee, the barber, started by getting a clipper and diving straight in with no grade attached, removing chunks from my fringe. Once most my fringe has disappeared he moves on to the chin. No foam or water, just the scorching hot, blunt, unclean electric razor. The pain was comparable to that of when I got my tattoo. Sharp hot pain hit me every time the razor touched my skin. My head was flinching back on every contact as a natural reflex. Once finished, to my relief, he holds up a bottle. I asked what it was and he replied "A spirit". It stung like a bitch and smelt like a very cheap vodka.
I looked in the mirror and he asked if it was OK. Being in such poor lighting I thought it did. I paid the N$15. AM took the seat next as I waited with a sore neck. Half way through his cut Zee asked me for N$10 to buy a beer. I said no as a drunk man with razors is a bad idea.
When I got home I washed off the blood covering my neck and checked the hair in my pocket mirror. It turns out it does not look OK. Not OK by a long way. I have normal-ish hair up until my fringe where I have uneven shaved hair going back onto my head an inch or two. Some hair from further back almost covered the shipwreck of a hairstyle but not enough. I have worn a hat ever since.
In passing a few days later we popped in to say hi since AM knew them quite well. When about to leave Zee stopped AM and took all his change out of his pocket for a beer and said his next hair cut will be free.
AM and I got a taxi to a tiny concrete building that didn't look too different to an old bunker; the type you might find by a canal that has been taken over by coke addicts as a drug den. The only difference visible from outside are the words 'Beauty Salon' painted on. Instead of a canal there was sand and inside instead of crack addicts there were men armed with clippers. Lighting was very dim and the furniture was tatty, there was a picture of Will Smith among other men with hairstyles beyond the capability of the hairdressers here. Of course a large mirror was on the wall and there was an extension cord for the shavers. Compared to most salons here (which there are many) this was nice. Others were just metal or wooden huts, one of which cleverly named 'Tacky Hair Salon'.
I told AM I wanted a trim, just a little shorter. AM explains. The barber offers to remove my stubble too at no extra cost. Why not accept a free shave? Besides most don't shave themselves here.
Covered in sweat with my hair sticking to my face I am sat down to begin. No washing, combing or touching of the hair was done. Zee, the barber, started by getting a clipper and diving straight in with no grade attached, removing chunks from my fringe. Once most my fringe has disappeared he moves on to the chin. No foam or water, just the scorching hot, blunt, unclean electric razor. The pain was comparable to that of when I got my tattoo. Sharp hot pain hit me every time the razor touched my skin. My head was flinching back on every contact as a natural reflex. Once finished, to my relief, he holds up a bottle. I asked what it was and he replied "A spirit". It stung like a bitch and smelt like a very cheap vodka.
I looked in the mirror and he asked if it was OK. Being in such poor lighting I thought it did. I paid the N$15. AM took the seat next as I waited with a sore neck. Half way through his cut Zee asked me for N$10 to buy a beer. I said no as a drunk man with razors is a bad idea.
When I got home I washed off the blood covering my neck and checked the hair in my pocket mirror. It turns out it does not look OK. Not OK by a long way. I have normal-ish hair up until my fringe where I have uneven shaved hair going back onto my head an inch or two. Some hair from further back almost covered the shipwreck of a hairstyle but not enough. I have worn a hat ever since.
In passing a few days later we popped in to say hi since AM knew them quite well. When about to leave Zee stopped AM and took all his change out of his pocket for a beer and said his next hair cut will be free.
Rundu Taxis - 30/10/11
One might see a taxi in Rundu and assume the procedure is the same as of those in the UK. However, there are several differences which I feel need to be mentioned.
At home it is advantageous financially to catch a taxi with a friend or two to split the cost, rather than travel alone. In Rundu it is charged per head at a flat rate. If staying on the main roads within the town it is N$8 (8 Namibian Dollars, where £1 is approximately N$12) and doubles if you want to be dropped down a more difficult road (e.g. deep sand roads); travelling from opposite ends of town; or travelling after 22:00.
This means drivers don't have to take the shortest route – not that this stopped my taxi driving through hedges and over a dusty football pitch. No quickest routes and charging per head means the more people in the taxi the better it is for the driver; regardless of destination. Consider two people, Paul and Frank, say, who wanted to go to different destinations. Paul and Frank are unacquainted. Paul is picked up first but Frank's location is slightly out the way. The taxi will pick up Frank, drop him off, then drop Paul off maybe slightly later than initially thought. Both are charged N$8. Simple.
To get a taxi you can phone for one. By that I mean literally one. You can call the driver if you are lucky enough to have their mobile number. No taxi agencies to send out taxis for you. Alternatively, and usually more conveniently, you can just wave one down.
Not all the taxi drivers are to be trusted. My colleague Gareth somehow ended up catching an illegal taxi where the driver was drinking a beer whilst driving and tried charging him four times the usual rate. A few others on our team got into a 4-seater taxi despite there being 5 who wanted to travel. This is seen quite often. On this particular occasion the driver was pulled over by the police for carrying too many people. The driver then told the police he had no license and was charged a fine of N$1000, which he haggled down to N$300. Whether he had a license or not is not clear since apparently it is easier to claim you don't have one and take a fine rather than take points on your license.
Credit must be given to the honest taxi drivers of Rundu though since most the roads are dust or deep, loose sand. It is often hard to see due to dust clouds left by the driver in front. Also it is extremely difficult to navigate the sand tracks without sinking. In the latter case speed is key to keep momentum making a lot of taxi journeys bumpy. Also most the streets don't have names and the houses no numbers and so landmarks such as schools and pubs are used for direction.
I will leave you with a money saving tip. If you ever find yourself travelling in Rundu always claim you only have N$5 (or N$10 if travelling in a pair) and the drivers usually accept.
At home it is advantageous financially to catch a taxi with a friend or two to split the cost, rather than travel alone. In Rundu it is charged per head at a flat rate. If staying on the main roads within the town it is N$8 (8 Namibian Dollars, where £1 is approximately N$12) and doubles if you want to be dropped down a more difficult road (e.g. deep sand roads); travelling from opposite ends of town; or travelling after 22:00.
This means drivers don't have to take the shortest route – not that this stopped my taxi driving through hedges and over a dusty football pitch. No quickest routes and charging per head means the more people in the taxi the better it is for the driver; regardless of destination. Consider two people, Paul and Frank, say, who wanted to go to different destinations. Paul and Frank are unacquainted. Paul is picked up first but Frank's location is slightly out the way. The taxi will pick up Frank, drop him off, then drop Paul off maybe slightly later than initially thought. Both are charged N$8. Simple.
To get a taxi you can phone for one. By that I mean literally one. You can call the driver if you are lucky enough to have their mobile number. No taxi agencies to send out taxis for you. Alternatively, and usually more conveniently, you can just wave one down.
Not all the taxi drivers are to be trusted. My colleague Gareth somehow ended up catching an illegal taxi where the driver was drinking a beer whilst driving and tried charging him four times the usual rate. A few others on our team got into a 4-seater taxi despite there being 5 who wanted to travel. This is seen quite often. On this particular occasion the driver was pulled over by the police for carrying too many people. The driver then told the police he had no license and was charged a fine of N$1000, which he haggled down to N$300. Whether he had a license or not is not clear since apparently it is easier to claim you don't have one and take a fine rather than take points on your license.
Credit must be given to the honest taxi drivers of Rundu though since most the roads are dust or deep, loose sand. It is often hard to see due to dust clouds left by the driver in front. Also it is extremely difficult to navigate the sand tracks without sinking. In the latter case speed is key to keep momentum making a lot of taxi journeys bumpy. Also most the streets don't have names and the houses no numbers and so landmarks such as schools and pubs are used for direction.
I will leave you with a money saving tip. If you ever find yourself travelling in Rundu always claim you only have N$5 (or N$10 if travelling in a pair) and the drivers usually accept.
Dinner Time - 25/10/11
This is my first post since arriving in Rundu. Just after my previous post my counterpart had to leave the programme due to personal reasons, however, I have now been paired with a new one. He goes by AM since his name is far too difficult to pronounce (no doubt spell).
Our host home, which I will talk about in detail in a later post, provides us with a meal every evening - cooked by the women of the house (even the thought of the men cooking in Namibia is laughable). On the first night we were called to eat and we were presented with a plate of 'porridge' - a maize based sludge - and a pot of a beef stew type thing. I was offered a knife and fork but also offered to learn the way of their culture - I opted for the latter no doubt. Hands are used instead of cutlery and our teeth are our 'natural knife' AM assures me. How we should spread butter on bread I don't know.
The technique is to pick at the porridge, squidge it to make it more compact, then dip it into the stew. The dishes the stew and porridge come in are shared by all those eating. Luckily for us this is only AM and me - the children of the house are less fortunate and share between half a dozen or so, all around one pot. To eat the chunks of meat simply take with your hands and rip with your teeth, just like eating KFC (which I have had plenty of practise at). Certainly more fun than UK dining but at the same time more sticky and much less hygenic despite the bowl of water provided to splash your hands in before starting.
I have spent around 9 days in Rundu now and 8 of them I have had porridge with some sort of meat dish. Extrapolating this data shows I will almost definitely never want to see maize again after these three months. Still the meat pot varies and the food is tasty and, most imporantly, present and edible.
One evening I went into their living room and saw dinner before it was cooked. There in a tub on the floor was a cows head and trotters. Here they use all the animal, none goes to waste, something I agree with entirely. The cold water is kept in the fridge with the naked carcasses of many animals.
The only part of their way of dining I am not joining in with is the drinking of water. In one large cup (imagine a large in starbucks) the water is provided, with a smaller cup to drink from. Just one. If you wish to drink you poor the water into the smaller cup, finish it, and return the cup for the next user. I've chosen my flask instead.
So far dinner has been cow, goat, fish (I ate the eyes - apparently it's good for the brain), chicken and other unidentifiable animals.
I will soon post about the home, the climate, the kindergartens in which we work, taxis, and how to pick up women - Namibian style. Hopefully a few of these will go up this coming weekend.
Our host home, which I will talk about in detail in a later post, provides us with a meal every evening - cooked by the women of the house (even the thought of the men cooking in Namibia is laughable). On the first night we were called to eat and we were presented with a plate of 'porridge' - a maize based sludge - and a pot of a beef stew type thing. I was offered a knife and fork but also offered to learn the way of their culture - I opted for the latter no doubt. Hands are used instead of cutlery and our teeth are our 'natural knife' AM assures me. How we should spread butter on bread I don't know.
The technique is to pick at the porridge, squidge it to make it more compact, then dip it into the stew. The dishes the stew and porridge come in are shared by all those eating. Luckily for us this is only AM and me - the children of the house are less fortunate and share between half a dozen or so, all around one pot. To eat the chunks of meat simply take with your hands and rip with your teeth, just like eating KFC (which I have had plenty of practise at). Certainly more fun than UK dining but at the same time more sticky and much less hygenic despite the bowl of water provided to splash your hands in before starting.
I have spent around 9 days in Rundu now and 8 of them I have had porridge with some sort of meat dish. Extrapolating this data shows I will almost definitely never want to see maize again after these three months. Still the meat pot varies and the food is tasty and, most imporantly, present and edible.
One evening I went into their living room and saw dinner before it was cooked. There in a tub on the floor was a cows head and trotters. Here they use all the animal, none goes to waste, something I agree with entirely. The cold water is kept in the fridge with the naked carcasses of many animals.
The only part of their way of dining I am not joining in with is the drinking of water. In one large cup (imagine a large in starbucks) the water is provided, with a smaller cup to drink from. Just one. If you wish to drink you poor the water into the smaller cup, finish it, and return the cup for the next user. I've chosen my flask instead.
So far dinner has been cow, goat, fish (I ate the eyes - apparently it's good for the brain), chicken and other unidentifiable animals.
I will soon post about the home, the climate, the kindergartens in which we work, taxis, and how to pick up women - Namibian style. Hopefully a few of these will go up this coming weekend.
Arrival and Training in Windhoek - 14/10/11
With training finished and still a couple of days left in the capital, Windhoek, before travelling 7 hours to get to Rundu on Sunday, I have had a chance to find an internet cafe.
Totalling over 15 hours of travel time to get to Namibia it was a relief to step off the plane despite the blistering heat. Windhoek is where we have been staying with the Namibian volunteers. I have already seen a monkey and many, many stray dogs. The sighting of the dogs rang alarm bells and almost every UK volunteers mind went "Rabies, rabies, rabies..." but of course that was initial first-furry-animal-visual-panic.
We have now been paired off with our counterparts - the Namibian volunteer we will live with in the host homes - and our work partner, the volunteer we'll be on our placement with. My counterpart is a very curious guy, Salomon. Even when I had a shave he quizzed me about it until I offered to let him watch. He explained how he's always gone to a barber and asked if he could try and so I walked him through his first shave. Another one of his fascinations is how hairy the UK men's legs are. He plays with the hairs without touching the leg and asks "Can you feel this?". This is then repeated several times at various distances from the skin. Out of all the things he could ask about he chose this.
Other than that the Namibian volunteers quite enjoy touching the other girls hair. All of them are very friendly and lots of culture differences have been high on the conversation. Despite the diversity everyone is getting on great.
Only one minute left on the internet cafe so I am having to finish here.
Totalling over 15 hours of travel time to get to Namibia it was a relief to step off the plane despite the blistering heat. Windhoek is where we have been staying with the Namibian volunteers. I have already seen a monkey and many, many stray dogs. The sighting of the dogs rang alarm bells and almost every UK volunteers mind went "Rabies, rabies, rabies..." but of course that was initial first-furry-animal-visual-panic.
We have now been paired off with our counterparts - the Namibian volunteer we will live with in the host homes - and our work partner, the volunteer we'll be on our placement with. My counterpart is a very curious guy, Salomon. Even when I had a shave he quizzed me about it until I offered to let him watch. He explained how he's always gone to a barber and asked if he could try and so I walked him through his first shave. Another one of his fascinations is how hairy the UK men's legs are. He plays with the hairs without touching the leg and asks "Can you feel this?". This is then repeated several times at various distances from the skin. Out of all the things he could ask about he chose this.
Other than that the Namibian volunteers quite enjoy touching the other girls hair. All of them are very friendly and lots of culture differences have been high on the conversation. Despite the diversity everyone is getting on great.
Only one minute left on the internet cafe so I am having to finish here.
Departure is upon us - 09/10/11
It is finally here. Tomorrow morning I will be getting a coach to London and meeting the UK members of my team. Then on Tuesday at 21:20 I, if all goes well, will be taking off from Heathrow and eventually getting to Windhoek, Namibia's Capital, at 14:00 the next day. The last time I flew out of the country I managed to lose both my boarding pass and passport by putting them on a chair then walking off. Hopefully I have learnt from my mistakes and I will leave important items with someone more responsible - most likely a female. They are organised. I trust them.
Having Namibian dollars in my pocket and an 85 litre bag packed for 6 months the trip seems that much more real. Rehydration salts, water purification tablets, anti-malarials, diarrhoea tablets, sun cream, insect repellent, bite ease, after sun and my diabolos are all ready to travel with me the furthest south I have ever been.
This may well be the last chance in a while I have to post on my blog but I will be keeping a journal and will update it when possible. Hopefully lots of photos will be appearing.
So bring on the next 6 months!!
Having Namibian dollars in my pocket and an 85 litre bag packed for 6 months the trip seems that much more real. Rehydration salts, water purification tablets, anti-malarials, diarrhoea tablets, sun cream, insect repellent, bite ease, after sun and my diabolos are all ready to travel with me the furthest south I have ever been.
This may well be the last chance in a while I have to post on my blog but I will be keeping a journal and will update it when possible. Hopefully lots of photos will be appearing.
So bring on the next 6 months!!
GX Team Featured on Crisis Website - 01/10/2011
A member of my team has just bought to my attention an article on the Crisis webpage talking about our Global Xchange project in Newcastle. Check it out here. It may give you a better idea of what we'll be doing in the UK.
Chilton Cake Sale - 30/09/11
Yesterday and Monday I took ten minute talks in assemblies at my old school, Chilton Trinity Technology College. It was a great opportunity to raise awareness about VSO, Global Xchange and my fundraising. Hopefully some students will consider applying to the programme in a couple of years time. Also I told them about the cake sale we were holding today (Friday 30th September).
Having met with some year 11 students earlier in the week I headed to the school for the morning break. I took along some cupcakes I baked (with the help of my mother) and also received plenty of donated cakes from staff at the school. Before even putting most the cakes on display students were buying them - it's amazing how popular some colourful butter icing with shiny sprinkles are. In the first break we had already raised over £25.
At lunch another home baked cake was donated by a student and some of the others who volunteered to help headed off around the school selling cakes on trays (see pic). I found their technique very inspiring - don't ask if people want a cake, tell them they do! With the students help I could be left to do what I do best - stand around staring into space.
To get rid of the left other cakes one member of staff bought their group of students a cake each and extras.
Thanks to the generosity of the staff and students the total raised was a great £70.34 not to mention the donations some of my old teachers gave me. This pushed me over my target of £1000, and just in time.
I'd like to give a special thanks to Mrs Hollinghurst (head teacher) for being so supportive and also to those who donated cakes and/or helped me sell them. It was a great success and I barely had to do a thing so once again...
Thank you Chilton
Hopefully I will get the chance to share my experiences with the school on my arrival home.
Total raised: £1058.80
In other news, I have gotten my best Bejeweled blitz score yet - 817,650.
Having met with some year 11 students earlier in the week I headed to the school for the morning break. I took along some cupcakes I baked (with the help of my mother) and also received plenty of donated cakes from staff at the school. Before even putting most the cakes on display students were buying them - it's amazing how popular some colourful butter icing with shiny sprinkles are. In the first break we had already raised over £25.
At lunch another home baked cake was donated by a student and some of the others who volunteered to help headed off around the school selling cakes on trays (see pic). I found their technique very inspiring - don't ask if people want a cake, tell them they do! With the students help I could be left to do what I do best - stand around staring into space.
To get rid of the left other cakes one member of staff bought their group of students a cake each and extras.
Thanks to the generosity of the staff and students the total raised was a great £70.34 not to mention the donations some of my old teachers gave me. This pushed me over my target of £1000, and just in time.
I'd like to give a special thanks to Mrs Hollinghurst (head teacher) for being so supportive and also to those who donated cakes and/or helped me sell them. It was a great success and I barely had to do a thing so once again...
Hopefully I will get the chance to share my experiences with the school on my arrival home.
Total raised: £1058.80
In other news, I have gotten my best Bejeweled blitz score yet - 817,650.
Thank You to Anon - 30/09/11
I awoke to a very generous donation today and felt it deserved a special thank you. Both the giver and the amount was anonymous so I will say no more than it was an extremely pleasant surprise. It has gotten me so close to my target and with a cake sale in my old school today, Chilton Trinity Technology College, I should be even closer!
This isn't to say all the other donations aren't equally as important - without them I wouldn't be anywhere so thanks to everyone who has donated so far.
This isn't to say all the other donations aren't equally as important - without them I wouldn't be anywhere so thanks to everyone who has donated so far.
Fake Coin - 26/09/11
I was paying in offline funds today in order to pay it into VSO. To do this I was pouring my change into those great machines that count it all up and deposit it for you. One pound coin kept being reject and a member of staff had a look and discovered it was forged and showed me how she knew.
I can only assume this was some personal, malicious attack against me from some member of the public during my collection. From this day on I am dedicating any spare time to tracing this coin back to the person whose palm it came out of and I will swap it for a real pound coin. Or two 50p's, or any combination making up a pound...mark my words!
Alternatively I might just forget it is in my wallet and back into the money flow it will go. In fact I am now looking in my wallet and I have a real coin (change from my lunch) that matches the fake and I can't quite identify between the two. Oops. See the images below, can you spot the fake? Comment with your conclusions.
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Living Below The Line Complete - 26/09/11
With great relief I can say I have now finished my week living below the line. I will now say some very meaningful things about the experience as a whole.
Of course it was difficult and I was often woken by my stomach rumbling. However the budget did not include things like travelling, water, electricity - all luxuries most of us are lucky to have in this country (even if petrol is ludicrously expensive at the moment). Those in developing countries may not have the same privileges and still have to live off of a tiny amount a day. Also it was made a lot easier having supermarkets offering value goods. Plus the vast range and variety we have available to us.
The biggest motivation was definitely today, the day I get to eat what I want when I want. Again, this wouldn't be the case for people in poor communities - their tiny budget doesn't have an expiry date and so can't indulge themselves in all the left overs on the last day. Their supplies have to last without a foreseeable end.
Some less serious points I discovered are it is horrible losing any item of your weeks supply of food to mould. Also Sainsburys basics oranges are hit and miss - some are lovely, others are vile! But you get what you pay for I suppose. Badminton hits the body a lot harder when all you have eaten that day is one poached egg on toast.
I have received a few donations whilst doing this but I hope it encourages people to give a little more now I have completed it.
All in all it was an interesting test of will power, resisting temptation and also a bit of an eye opener about how fortunate I really am.
Of course it was difficult and I was often woken by my stomach rumbling. However the budget did not include things like travelling, water, electricity - all luxuries most of us are lucky to have in this country (even if petrol is ludicrously expensive at the moment). Those in developing countries may not have the same privileges and still have to live off of a tiny amount a day. Also it was made a lot easier having supermarkets offering value goods. Plus the vast range and variety we have available to us.
The biggest motivation was definitely today, the day I get to eat what I want when I want. Again, this wouldn't be the case for people in poor communities - their tiny budget doesn't have an expiry date and so can't indulge themselves in all the left overs on the last day. Their supplies have to last without a foreseeable end.
Some less serious points I discovered are it is horrible losing any item of your weeks supply of food to mould. Also Sainsburys basics oranges are hit and miss - some are lovely, others are vile! But you get what you pay for I suppose. Badminton hits the body a lot harder when all you have eaten that day is one poached egg on toast.
I have received a few donations whilst doing this but I hope it encourages people to give a little more now I have completed it.
All in all it was an interesting test of will power, resisting temptation and also a bit of an eye opener about how fortunate I really am.
Street Collection Bridgwater Highstreet - 24/09/11
10am, Bridgwater town centre and nice weather. One bucket with a VSO logo and custom made 'lid'. One sign, made up of a poster and writing, attached to a broom handle. Two GX t-shirts, one sister, one me.
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This was all that was needed (plus a very important street collection permit of course) to have a successful day of fundraising. I chose a nice narrow part of the high street so no one could escape my eye contact or ignore...
I must have said this phrase well over 100 times in the 5 hours I spent collecting. It attracted many responses. The odd firm "No" or even just "Yes" followed by walking off were a few rare rude reactions, however most people were very polite and checked their pockets for all the change they had. Lots simply tapped their pockets which I took as concrete proof that they had no money. The one that confused me the most was a gentleman who just raised his arms, looked down at himself, then looked up at me and shrugged - as if to say "Am I wearing any change?" or "Do I look like I have ANY money?".
Several people stopped to have a chat about VSO and Global Xchange and quizzed me about what I am doing. I used this as a chance to spread the word and hand out a leaflet or two. Others fancied a chat about something completely unrelated - such as one chap wanting a second opinion on whether he was in the right being frustrated at a woman who let her daughter throw litter on the floor. Of course I agreed and he went on to say being 21 I was entitled to "chase women" and "get pissed". I liked this man.
All in all most people were very friendly and offered a few silvers and pound coins. A couple of passer-bys even gave me five pound notes. So thanks to everyone who dropped into my bucket.
Total Collected: £105.46
Fundraising Progress: £576.46
Living Below The Line Day 3 - 21/09/11
So I am now on the third day of the £1 a day budget for food and drink. This is what I have consumed so far -
Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
All of this has been low quality food, without salt/pepper, any sort of sauce or even butter. So all my meals have been very bland. So much so the smell of the dog food is making me salivate...like a dog.
Not even half way through the week, I am getting very hungry and every meal is ten minutes in heaven! The waiting between meals is hell, not to mention the temptation of the rest of my families groceries lying around. Watching my mother tuck into the leftovers of their lovely looking pasta bake was just adding salt to the wound.
Anyway, only 4 days to go. Having an expiry date on this is really something to look forwards to and motivate me. Imagining if this wasn't my choice; something I had to do to survive makes me appreciate a fraction of how difficult life must be for those less fortunate.
Please help the cause I am doing this for and donate some money. Use my virtual menu to give a few pounds.
Day 1
- 1 poached egg on a slice of toast
- 3 fish fingers, 3 salad potatoes, 1 carrot
- 1 slice of bread with jam
- 2 pints of orange squash
Day 2
- 1 packet of noodles with a slice of bread
- 1 orange
- 1 tin of beans with sausages on a slice of toast
- 1 slice of bread with jam
- 2 pints of orange squash
Day 3
- 1 poached egg on a slice of bread
- 1 orange
- 1 portion of pasta with pesto
- 2 slices of bread with jam
- 2 pints of orange squash
All of this has been low quality food, without salt/pepper, any sort of sauce or even butter. So all my meals have been very bland. So much so the smell of the dog food is making me salivate...like a dog.
Not even half way through the week, I am getting very hungry and every meal is ten minutes in heaven! The waiting between meals is hell, not to mention the temptation of the rest of my families groceries lying around. Watching my mother tuck into the leftovers of their lovely looking pasta bake was just adding salt to the wound.
Anyway, only 4 days to go. Having an expiry date on this is really something to look forwards to and motivate me. Imagining if this wasn't my choice; something I had to do to survive makes me appreciate a fraction of how difficult life must be for those less fortunate.
Please help the cause I am doing this for and donate some money. Use my virtual menu to give a few pounds.
Beginning to Living Below the Line - 18/09/11
In one hour and 12 minutes my Living Below The Line challenge begins. Having £1 a day budget I headed to Sainsburys with £7 for my weeks shopping. Sainsburys was not chosen for cheapness but through familiarity - being the nearest supermarket to me throughout my life as a student. I came home with the items seen below (hover over to enlarge).
It does not look too dissimilar to my normal student-esque shop. The main difference is this is ALL I have for the week - no freebies off of other people; no lunches in Greggs; no nights out. The only extra I have left over is a whole 2p that I think I will spend on a couple of penny sweets on the 3rd/4th day as a little midway treat.
As I now have only 1 hour and 4 minutes until the week begins I must go and binge on junk food and fizzy drink until midnight.
Please show your support and sponsor me.
It does not look too dissimilar to my normal student-esque shop. The main difference is this is ALL I have for the week - no freebies off of other people; no lunches in Greggs; no nights out. The only extra I have left over is a whole 2p that I think I will spend on a couple of penny sweets on the 3rd/4th day as a little midway treat.
As I now have only 1 hour and 4 minutes until the week begins I must go and binge on junk food and fizzy drink until midnight.
Please show your support and sponsor me.
Buy Me Something - 14/09/11
As part of my below the line week I will be holding back on how much I eat and drink. I have made a virtual menu where you can 'buy' me food and drink - just click the price on the menu. Buy is in inverted commas because I don't actually get the orders...it's a donation instead of buying, say, a farewell drink for example. Or maybe you could have one less drink on your next night out?
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