A Colonized Mind

We are nearing the end of September, a reality I find difficult to wrap my mind around. Last week (after Killing the Scorpion), I taught my first lesson! Let me tell you…it was nerve racking. Some in my group are trained teachers while others naturally radiate confidence in front of the learners; I was neither of those. I fumbled over my words as I read a passage aloud, and felt my face burn when I noticed the kids laughing at my accent or blatantly not following instructions. It was a rocky beginning, and I had to remind myself “You can only go up from here.” And I did. The next day, teaching was tremendously different and I (mostly) radiated self-assurance in front of that classroom. The thing is, I am the teacher, and it would do both myself and the learners well for me not to forget this. Ever. This week my colleague, Tim, and I planned "Poetry Week" for the 7th grade class in which we explore listening, reading comprehension, writing, and figures of speech through poetry. It is actually very fun and I think the learners enjoy it as well.  I even wrote a little poem for them to do exercises with, and class participation was high. Yay! I am beginning to develop “teacher confidence” and understanding how to enunciate my words and choose my phrases so that the learners understand me. All is well in training and…training. 

Just some context for those that do not know, pre-primary to fourth grade is taught in the mother tongue and fifth grade is (theoretically) when all formal instruction switches to English – the national language of Namibia  (I think this contributed to the fifth grade class being extra difficult to teach, however I only considered this several days after my first failed lesson.) I kind of had an internal existential crisis the other day when in the midst of classroom chaos, I reminded my learners, "We speak English in this classroom!" I picked up this phrase from other (Namibian) English teachers trying to promote knowledge of the English language in their class, however I felt awful for not only making them stop speaking in their native language; I felt like the oppressor making them assimilate into a language that is not their own. For what? Because if they don't speak English then they don't have a chance at a "decent life?" What is a decent life? One filled with economic opportunity, one filled with family, one filled with love? I reassured myself that I am doing good and I am helping and I am not the enemy. 

Which brings me to the title of this post, A Colonized Mind. 

This past weekend, the northern team (comprised of the Oshikwanyama and Oshidonga language groups) traveled to the HUB for workshops Friday and Saturday. It was as if we hadn’t seen each other for years the way we greeted one another; hugs on hugs coupled with shrieks of joy. The workshops themselves were very beneficial, I picked up a few tricks and trades for the classroom.  When we were in the cross-cultural session, we discussed things that surprised us or took us aback from the past couple weeks at the schools and in the village, followed by a discussion on whether such actions where "cultural" or "personal." One of my absolute favorite trainers, Angelina, explained something to us in response to people asking, “Why does my host family call me white when I am clearly mixed (or in my case, Indian.)” “Why does my host family say white people don’t walk?” “Why do they laugh at me while I do my bucket laundry outside?” Her response? Their minds are still colonized. This may not be the case for the “born-frees” but it is ingrained in their minds that the whites are better, the whites do things differently, they are not on the same level as the blacks or the colored. Apartheid policies may be (mostly) eradicated, but its imprint is heavy in the consciouses of many, many people. It breaks my heart that one can sincerely believe that they are less than somebody due to the color of their skin. It is one thing to understand this is a reality that exists, but entirely different when you realize that people you have come to know and love hold this belief that you and “your people” are better. We, as Peace Corps, are here to break this stereotype. I hope we can achieve this, I really do.

On a brighter note, I bought water colors and a yoga mat this weekend! Yay!! It was much needed, and I’m really starting to get into a nice little routine here. It is hard for me to get rid of two things – my concept of time, and my need for alone time. Time is not  of the essence here, time is not money. And alone time? What alone time? Alone time here means someone has done something to upset you, or that you are feeling sick. I have been dancing delicately with both of these concepts, and I would like to think I’m reaching a happy medium.

I am restless, but I am fulfilled. I am uncertain, but I have faith. While I may not be eating or exercising in the way I am accustomed to, I am positive that I am, and will continue to be, where I need to be and am doing what ought to be done. We find out our permanent sites in less than two weeks (oh my god!!) and I am so excited to see where I end up for the next two years.

Instead of "Currently Listening", this week I want to share the lyrics of Colonized Mind by Prince:

Upload, the evolution principle

You see a rock on the shore and say

"It's always been there"

Download, no responsibility

Do what you want, nobody cares

Upload, the master race idea

Genetically disposed to rule the world

Download, future full of isolated

Full of isolated, boys and girls

Upload, the two party system

The lesser of two dangers,

Illusion of a choice

Download, their form of fascism

Nothing really ever changes

You never had a voice

Listen to me one time

If you look, you're sure gonna find

Throughout mankind's history

A Colonized Mind

The one in power makes law

Under which the colonized fall

Without God, it's just the blind leading the blind

Upload, a joint venture record deal

It's just another way another man can still sleep

While he's sticking you with the bill

Download, a temporary acquisition

Of fleeting fame and fortune

Nothing to leave in your will

Hey hey hey hey

Upload, a child with no father

Download, no respect for authority

Upload, a child with no mother

Download, a hard time showing love

If you look, you're sure gonna find

Throughout mankind's history

A Colonized Mind

The one in power makes law

Under which the colonized fall

Without God, it's just the blind leading the blind

Killing the Scorpion

The title of this post is not a joke; I killed a scorpion in my room this morning. I noticed something crawling on the ground next to my bed, and when I approached it, I immediately grabbed the nearest shoe and killed it. What did I do next? I turned on Florence & the Machine and had a dance party in my room, and went about my morning routine as planned. Events such as this have become normal, and it is the little things that matter anymore. The motto of my Oshikwanyama group here in Omusheshe is "little victories and big rewards." It is entirely appropriate for all facets of life. 

On September 6th, I arrived in my new village for the next four weeks; Omusheshe is a village located in the north of Namibia in the Oshana region. I am living with a host family that consists of two parents (Martha and Erastus), two older sisters named Pombili and Tuhafeni, a younger girl named Lucia (she is in grade 10 at the school where I teach), and five young kiddos (Sion, Mathias, Levi, Martha, and Agnes.) They are so kind, patient, understanding, and have welcomed me into their home with open arms and unconditional love. 

The homestead is an ephemeral beauty, for the desert sand provides a flat surface on which various trees, bushes, and cacti grow freely. Several cement block housing compounds decorated with electricity (one of which I am in) are surrounded by traditional huts, each of which has a specific purpose. The dirt road to the front of the homestead has a patch of vibrant trees with multicolored leaves both on the branches and littered on the ground; my front yard is a picturesque autumn scene. Did I mention we have chickens, goats, pigs, a dog, kitty, and now a new puppy? The sun rises vibrantly and sets peacefully; the stars accompany me to sleep. 

I am beginning to get a taste of my new style of living, and to be honest, I could not be more excited. On a normal Sunday in America, I would be doing a variety of things; patronizing coffee shops, exercising, pursing outdoor activities, going to a friends house…but would I just be sitting around with the extended family, enjoying one another’s company? Would I be napping under the tree on a blanket in the sand? Would I be listening to children’s views on the quality on education in the country and what they think would improve the system? I wonder how many more sentences will I start with, “Back home…” until I internalize that this is my home now.

I have been at Omusheshe Combined School for a week now, and it is an understatement to say I have learned a lot. The first week was nothing short of an emotional roller coaster, however I am adjusting quite well (if I do say so myself.) I had a brief moment early last week when I wanted to quit, I won't lie. But this moment passed after some deep introspection followed by reaching out to some of my fellow volunteers. Here's the deal: I am someone who tries even though I am bound to fail (just like Atticus Finch!) When one stops fearing failure, they can truly succeed. I will give everything my 100% and keep trying even after I fail, and fail, and fail some more. Something has to give eventually, however, it is essential to listen and to be kind to oneself. To be kind to your learners. Somebody has to try, and somebody has to believe. If not you, then who? If not now, then when? 

Currently Listening:

Cows, roosters, and goats outside of my window.

Sza

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Notorious B.I.G

Keziah Jones

Florence & The Machine

Chance the Rapper

Girl Talk

Beta Band

Better Late Than Never

Hello friends! The day is September 2nd, and I have successfully created my blog! Here are some posts I have written in a Word document, and I will try to keep this updated as much as possible (a little difficult without reliable internet, but we must work with what we've got.)

August 22nd, 2015

It seems a little late to beginning to my blog, but better late than never, right? I’m not sure how it is possible that I have been in Namibia for two weeks already…I have made some friendships that I am sure will last at least a lifetime, and I have began learning so much about myself, this country, and the ebbs and flows of human nature. The power of the mind is something divine, is it not?
The first week of this journey felt like a constant dream. The arrival in Namibia was anything but forgettable, for we arrived at the hostel dark on Sunday and were greeted by traditional songs and dances by our trainers (such a treat after a million hours in transit halfway across the world.)
A typical day at the hostel consisted of waking up around 6 am to shower, get ready, and have breakfast by 7:00, then we would walk to the training center and arrive by 7:15 to begin the day. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays we sing songs (in languages ranging from Afrikaans, Oshiwambo, and English.) We just started language training, and I am learning Oshikwanyama (spoken in the northern regions of Namibia.) I love it! The language teacher, Rachel, is nothing short of graceful, patient, and encouraging. I am so lucky to have her. Edina o lange Neti, Ohanda dja peni ko Amerika.
Us volunteers (well, trainees) have become increasingly close. Our Peace Corps family bond made the transition from family, friends, and familiarity to one of discovery and dedication very smooth and painless. For this, I am grateful. The hostel was honestly was one the most fun experiences of my life! Room 19 for the win!!! Us PCVs shared every meal together, and in the evenings we would color, read, or play games before and/or after dinner (Cards Against Humanity, UNO, chess, banana-grams, sardines, mafia...you name it.) We also like to exercise together; I led yoga one of the first days, went on a run, and participated in bodyweight circles, plank challenges, and double-dutch.  In our spare time we grab drinks and snacks at Rhinos and the Beergarden (they both have wifi which we bombard like a swarm of hungry bees.)
What has been the most enlightening, you ask? Well, we received a history lesson and watched a film about Namibia’s independence struggle on Friday. How did I not know that Namibia was the site of a massive genocide by the Germans until just recently? How did I not know that Namibia was under colonial rule from South Africa until 1990?! This country has slipped under my radar, but I now know I am supposed to be here. This is lot of work to be done, a lot to be learned, a lot of healing to be had.
We took a group trip to the capital today, Windhoek, and visited some historical sites and graveyards involved with the struggle. “Their blood waters our freedom.” The graveyard was powerful…the grave stones were alive with grief, and the dust from the sand felt like unrested souls inviting us to pay respect to the lives lost for freedom. I saw un-named gravestones numbered up to the 2000’s. The price of freedom is never cheap, never easy, but always necessary; how dare we forget this fact in face of our privilege.
On a lighter note, can we talk about the sky? The morning sky is completely cloudless as the sun lazily begins its course of beating down on every man, woman, and child. The sunset…oh my Buddha the sunset. The perfectly blended blues, pinks, and purples coupled with the round orange sun could ease even the most restless of souls. The starry nights provide a glimpse into the cosmos, and we can even catch the Milky Way (when we are lucky.)
“Be like the moon, no qualities of your own, just reflect the sun.”A lovely piece of advice gifted to me by a friend shortly before my departure. I could write pages and pages (which I have in my journal), but for now, I will close with what I have been listening to as of late. Peace and love, y’all.

Cold War Kids – Evil Friends
Max Frost- Low High Low
Fleetwood Mac – Rumours
tUnE-yArDs – Bird-Brains
Snarky Puppy – Family Dinner
MF Doom- Doom Collection
Led Zeppelin – Led Zeppelin (self-titled album)
Pink Floyd – The Dark Side of the Moon
D’Angelo – Black Messiah

30/8/15

            Friends! How I miss you so much! So far my “blog” is a Microsoft Word Document, but I can’t wait until I am actually writing to an audience. I hope writing doesn’t become too difficult with the onset of viewers, but I will try to tell the story of my journey to the best of my ability. Something of noteable mention…I turned off the autocorrect and spell check from Word. I realize this is ballsy but seems only appropriate as I begin to delve into my study of Oshikwanyama, a Bantu language in the “Oshiwambo” language family. My teachers and family praise my ability to pick up the language quickly, and for this I am grateful and even more motivated.

            Saturday, yesterday, was cultural cooking day! I can’t even describe the experience of cooking over open fires, preparing food, socializing, and enjoying this activity with my 50 fellow trainees, our teachers and trainers, host families, and children. We slaughtered two goats and ten chickens, I did not participate in the killing (although I forced myself to watch), but I plucked the feathers of a chicken with one of my dear friends, Maggie. During the first goat slaughter, I could not hold back tears, the empath in me took over. Next, I watched the two chickens and began to remind myself about the importance of knowing where your food comes from, taking responsibility for the food (and lives) you consume, and participating in every facet of life. With the help of a few close friends, I changed my mindset from one of sadness and guilt to one of gratitude, acceptance, and participation.

            Three weeks have passed in this beautiful and brave country, and I still feel as if I just got here. I have much anticipation for the trials and frustrations ahead of me, yet these anticipations fuel the adrenaline of the present. Every moment of peace, friendship, and opportunity is felt fully for I do not know if or when it will be my last. Some fears of isolation, paranoia, or fear itself, seem to be reinforced by some of our training that is meant to foment caution and awareness. I can already feel the differences in culture (particularly when it comes to the way males and females interact) and I am receiving it with open arms and eyes.

            Book club, meditation, long walks, staring at the sky; the things that bring me the greatest joy currently. I am still in a housing situation with electricity and running water, and I am curious and excited to see how I will adjust without. We move to the north on Saturday, and I am moving to the “Wambo” region of Namibia and we will be moving in with a new host family. My current host family is beyond amazing and I am so lucky and so grateful to be with them (I’m pretty sure they love me too!) The mother is quite the celebrity in the community, for she began her own cooking/catering/lunchbox business and has some serious talent, she takes orders and brings lunch to our training sometimes too. Nacky, my “brother”, and I go on walks in the evening and chat about life. He is a quintessential example that age is just a number and we are at least a majority a product of our environments (I mean that in a complimentary way.) I did my laundry in with buckets (one for soap/softner and the other for rinsing) and cleaned my room and a little of the house today. Chores are relaxing, I’m down. I cooked two pizzas earlier this week for the family and they loved it. I like the locals, and I make friends with the taxi drivers. I get proposed to a lot (its normal here) and the best one went something like, “But…me and you would make babies that are like coffee with milk. Coffee with milk sweet babies!” HAHAHA. Well, kudos for making me laugh so hard that whiskey came out of my nose.  Due to a shortage of time, I’m over and out.

Currently listening:

Nneka

Bob Marley

Drake

Dave Matthews Band

The Spikedrivers