After an interesting journey (see note below), the Northern contingent of WorldTeach volunteers arrived in Ondangwa, one of Namibia's relatively sizeable towns. A short briefing about our placements from a regional director of the Ministry of Education followed, and as our group was examining a map of our sites, my principal, Tate Shapaka, entered the building. I tried to contain my excitement, and my efforts to remain composed resulted in a disappointingly awkward introduction. Oh well. I tossed my bags into the bed of Shapaka's bakkie (pickup truck), hopped in the front seat, and we headed off. We first stopped for KFC (the only American fast food chain I have encountered in Namibia, and it just so happens to be considered somewhat of a luxury) and for gas. While we were filling up a youngster hawking presumably bootleg cds approached my passenger side window. I assertively but uncomfortably declined his offer. In stark contrast, when Shapaka caught sight of the youth he gestured for the kid to scram, put his truck into gear, and said, "No! Go to school!" I immediately knew that I was a fan of my principal.
The ride to Oshikunde School was long and largely on rough dirt roads. The trip was made even more intriuging by my conversation with my new boss, during which I discovered I should expect to often hear the word "oshilumbo", which means white person, and that my living arrangements included neither power nor running water. I would eventually learn from my Head of Department at school that this meant we were "living the African way", something which I found oddly invigorating. All the same, I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get by.
As we pulled into the school grounds our vehicle was greeted by large groups of learners peering in, following our route, smiling, and waving. I was here, and I was flippin' pumped. Caught up in the moment I requested that my principal introduce me to as many of my colleagues as possible despite the quickly approaching darkness. I enthusiastically met many of my fellow staff members, and as the sun set and I entered my new home, I realized that my flashlight was buried deep within one of my two large bags. No worries, I thought, I'll use my cell phone for light as I unpack until I find my flashlight. Unfortunately my cell phone died not two minutes after I locked my front door behind me. I was forced to employ various electronic devices (ipod, nook ereader) for any amount of light until I at long last yanked my flashlight from under a pile of underwear. Success! By my newly found light source I set my watch alarm an hour before I would need to wake up just in case I had unknowlingly changed time zones on my day's journey, and went to sleep.
*A note concerning the approximately seven hour drive from Windhoek to Ondangwa:
A cd with perhaps five tracks of traditional African music progresses through the phases of being beautiful, to charming, to quaint, to borderline irritating, right before it is accepted as a necessity when it is learned that it's being played at maximum volume so that your driver manages to stay awake behind the wheel.
No comments:
Post a Comment