Snake tails.

So, yesterday afternoon I was lying on my bed working out a maddeningly mundane physics problem. By chance, I glanced up to see about two feet of a snake disappear behind my craft/recycling/”junk I should probably get rid of” pile. I hopped up and ran outside, stuttering “enoka…. enoka,” an amusing combination of the Rukwangali words “snake” and “thirsty” that my brain put together in the confusion. In any case, I got the attention of my host sister and grandmother.

My grandmother (the champion snake killer on my homestead) crept back inside with me, wielding a hoe handle. We poked around a bit, only managing to frighten the snake under my bed. My sister called Mr. Kandjimi, a fellow teacher. A few minutes later, he arrived, toting a shotgun. In the end, he ended up just scaring the snake out of my house, which I was happy about. It was about three feet long, yellow-ish brown, and not aggressive. I think it was just a common house snake, nothing to really worry about.

Still, I proceeded with caution. I tucked my mosquito net in all the way around, not just at the corners. I carefully looked inside my hut and let my eyes adjust a little before entering. I showered inside, rather than in my reed-walled shower area, which is worryingly close to the area where the snake disappeared. But, I figured if yesterday was my first time seeing a snake in my house in the eighteen months I’ve lived here, my chances were good it would also be my last.

Today, when I came home from school, my first stop was my kitchen hut, to reheat some left over quiche in the oven. I took a baking sheet out of my oven, went to the fridge, and then walked back across my hut to put it in the oven. This time, as I opened the oven door, I felt a mist on my arm.

My brain struggled to compute what was happening. It couldn’t fathom why it was apparently raining inside while the sun was shining outside. But, my snake experience yesterday, in combination with a particularly hair-raising story from my PCV friends, Tim and Lindsey, led me to a different assumption rather quickly. Was it a Mozambique spitting cobra?

Now, I know their venom can cause blindness if it gets in your eyes, so the last thing I wanted to do was look around for the source of the spray. Unfortunately, I didn’t have to look far… I rapidly scanned the ceiling area in front of me – and there, about two feet away, perched in the space between my roof and wall was a reared and spitting cobra. Needless to say, I hightailed it out of there, this time managing to remember the correct word for snake. And even the word for spitting!

Again, Mr. Kandjimi was called, along with my principal and a few learners. The snake had found a clever hiding spot on the inside of my wall, underneath a piece of fabric I’d hung up for decoration. With some poking, his head emerged, and was consequently held in place with a stick and chopped off with a machete. As the previous owner of a pet snake, and having handled several of them before, I’m not generally afraid of them… but I have to say, going eye to eye with a spitting cobra scared the crap out of me. I’m glad he’s gone.

And now… my careful search of my hut upon entering includes the ceiling. And I will sleep with my net tucked in to an extreme degree. I’ve cleared my walls of hiding places, as much as I can. And, I’m getting a cat, to help with any rodent issues.

Winter is coming, thank goodness.

A request.

This is Frans. 

Last year, he was in my 7^th grade English class. He is a model student, well behaved and attentive. He was one of my most frequent library visitors, and I measured an increase of 3 reading levels during last school year. He was promoted to grade 8 without hesitation.

Unfortunately, the government of Namibia only pays for primary education. His family cannot afford to send him to secondary school, so I’m asking for your help. For approximately 60 USD, Frans can attend a local secondary school for the year, stay in the hostel (with all meals provided) and purchase a school uniform. Anyone interested can contact me at: steph.sestito@gmail.com. Thanks in advance!

Livingstone in photos!

Hey everyone! I'm a bit behind on holiday blogging, so expect more posts soon. Since I already have these photos on my computer though, I just wanted to give you a look at what I've been up to so far: 

We had the great opportunity to peruse a local market in Livingstone and have a meal there! Fairly similar to Namibian cuisine, and pretty tasty!

A close up of our food!  

We also got to take a sunset cruise on the Zambezi river, where we saw this little guy chilling on the bank.

And, of course, we met several hippo pods!

My fellow PCVs and I enjoying the cruise!

And then, just to add some adrenaline to the equation, Andre and I conquered the bridge swing and bungee jump!

Bridge swing, Vic Falls

Bungee jump - 111 meters, Vic Falls

All in all, a fantastic adventure. I'll try to catch you up on what's going on in Malawi soon :) 

Merry Christmas!

welcoming the holidays.

Holidays away from home have the potential to be awful. Thankfully, my Thanksgiving this year was not.

I had a lot of baking to get done, so right after school I started on some chocolate chip cookies for our Grade 7 farewell party the following day. A few of my favorite (I’ll admit it, I have favorites…) learners dropped by to help. We had a great time interpreting my recipe, practicing fractions as we doubled it, and (of course) taste testing!

Then the secretary from my school came over for a previously promised muffin lesson, so we whipped up a batch of blueberry muffins, and I also showed her how to work my gas oven (she just bought one recently).

In the midst of this, I was also making a Thanksgiving family favorite of mine – Challah. This Jewish recipe was especially perfect given that Thanksgiving coincided with the first day of Chanukah this year – something that won’t happen again in our lifetime!

Later in the afternoon my friend and fellow PCV, Bonnie, came over for the night and we made a delicious chocolate pie to share with my host family. Unfortunately, we didn’t cook the filling quite enough, so it ended up more like chocolate pudding. Fortunately – it was still delicious!

The original plan was for Bonnie and I to eat traditional food with my family, but they ended up not cooking that night, so we instead went back into my kitchen and whipped up some steamed broccoli and roasted potatoes. That might not sound like much… but to two vegetable starved PCVs, it was perfect!

So there you have it, Thanksgiving was a success!

On a different note, today is the last day of school! I’ve made it through my first year of teaching, and my English learners have all made a lot of progress. It’s time to celebrate by taking a new adventure… first stop, Victoria Falls! I’ll be heading that way this weekend, looking forward to spending time in new places, meeting new people, and trying new things (like maybe bungee jumping?). I’ll try to post updates where I can, but don’t expect much for the next few weeks. (Not that you would, given my sporadic posting history…. :/ sorry!)

Without resolution.

Hello blog readers.

I would start this post off with an obligatory apology, as always, but it turns out I actually have a reason this time for the long gap. Actually, two reasons.

You see, first I was traveling. I actually was pretty busy. Certainly didn’t have to time to sit down and write anything well thought out.

And the other reason is… I usually wait to write until I’m in a good mental place, and have the inspiration to package together any frustrations with a message of encouragement that somehow brings resolution to the way I’m feeling.

And, to be honest, that hasn’t happened in a while.

During PST (pre-service training) we covered the “Volunteer Life Cycle” about 57.2 times. They beat that horse to death. So, naturally, and like most of my fellow volunteers, I tuned it out.

However, I was recently going through some of the immense tower of papers, manuals, and other ecologically disastrous Peace Corps materials, and I came across a chart that detailed some of the expected issues at certain intervals during service.

Here’s what I saw:

Month	Issues
11-15	-Mid-Service crisis -Doubt about program, role, self, government -Various failures over time

Check, check and check. 

And for some reason, although it pains me to admit I’m experiencing emotions that PC basically mandated me to, this made me feel…validated.

Don’t get me wrong; I love my life here in Namibia. But, I do struggle from time to time with a feeling of futility. I also wrestle with my ongoing adjustment to living in a new culture.

Even before an offhand comment and some serendipitous radio programming prompted me to pursue a life in the Peace Corps, I’ve always been fascinated by learning about different cultures. I liked it so much that, after a short trip to Haiti in 2010, I inserted myself into my local Haitian community. I went to a Haitian church and started learning to speak Haitian Creole. I had lunch with my pastor and his family every Sunday, fried plantains and fish and rice. I loved it. Actually, when I told my PC recruiter about all of these things, it kind of threw her for a loop. She asked why, and the only answer I could offer was, I wanted to know as much about Haitian culture as I could.

So, when I came to Namibia I was looking for that type of an experience. Immersing myself in a new language, eating new food, living in different conditions… I assumed I would take all this in stride and learn to embrace a culture different from my own, and do it with some ease.

Parts of it are easy. The surface stuff, the tip of the iceberg. The way I dress, the food I eat, being respectful and deferent to elders. But now I’m getting down to the parts of the culture that lie below the surface, and it’s hard. I’m being faced with difficult questions like: is it okay for me to think that parts of another culture are “wrong”? Is that possible? Because, I’m obviously biased, my moral definitions of right and wrong are formed from my cultural perspective. But does that matter?

It’s easy to debate these anthropological topics at arms-length, in a classroom, academically. But I’m here. And these aren’t high-order thinking, hypothetical questions anymore. They’re real. And they’re about people that I know.

So… that’s where I am right now. Muddled and messy and confused about life. No resolution to offer at the moment. And yet, here I am. 

SOMA guest blog!

Hey guys! So, as you know I'm currently in Senegal attending a malaria boot camp through Stomp Out Malaria in Africa. I'm having a great time and I had the opportunity to write about it for Stomp's website. Check it out!

http://stompoutmalaria.org/boot-camp-day-2-its-a-movement/

How I get from here to there...

Today’s nam milestones –

            received my third bee sting
            saw a second dog be hit by a car
            coaxed my fifty-seventh baby into thinking white people are cool
            was hit on obnoxiously for the millionth time

Pretty full day, huh?

And now, I’d like to delve into a topic I’ve been saving for a rainy day…. transportation.

Transportation in Namibia can be…challenging.

First, everything happens on African time. Not that it’s always a bad thing. If you can get yourself adjusted to it, African time can really work in your favor. But to the stereo-typical American brain, it’s inconceivable that a 65 km trip should take 2.5 hours. And yes, sometimes that happens.

Next, there aren’t that many people in Namibia. About 2 million, actually. And not many of them have cars. Unlike some other volunteer organizations, Peace Corps does not allow volunteers to drive vehicles. So, sometimes we have to creative…

Here are our options – public transport (usually a combi, a van-type vehicle) or hitch-hiking (or, as we refer to it here – hiking). Now, both have their merits. As this is a public blog, I will refrain from supporting either whole-heartedly…rather I will attempt to amuse you with anecdotal tales of both types.

How I get to Rundu (my shopping town) from my village: 

- Walk to the road

- Find a shady spot, and watch the horizon for matua (cars)

- Whenever one meanders by, flag it down using a variety of moves (my personal go-to is the "dribbling the basketball")
- When a car/combi does pull over, discuss where I'm going, and how much money I have

- Hop in and go! 

But, as simple as that sounds, there are always complications. To sort some of those things out…here is the glorious first edition of my Rules for Nam Transport!

Rule # 1: Leave early. You never know what’s going to happen between point A and point B. Examples: your combi/public transport car may take anywhere between 30 minutes and 2 hours to fill up. You may receive a ride from a friendly man who needs to make a “quick stop” and end up chatting with his wife over tea for a few hours. There are always stops to be made, errands to be run, and plenty of cows, goats, and donkeys on the road. As an estimate, take the number of kilometers, multiply it by one million, and you should be pretty close.

Rule # 2: Always bring a book, an ipod, or some other form of amusement. When hiking, you never know how long you’ll be on the side of the road. If possible, bring a friend and invent new dance routines to help get the attention of passing cars. Also, always wear sunscreen (that’s for you, Amanda!). Especially if you’re as pale as I am.

 Rule # 3: Pay attention to your surroundings. This rule is especially important when you; a) live in a village, b) have no sense of direction, or c) both. I’m not too proud to admit that I have, on three occasions, accidentally passed my village. But really, let me break it down. In the 65 km between my shopping town and my village, here’s what you will find – cows. goats. donkeys. small children. huts. trees. and the occasional shebeen (bar). After a while, it all starts to look the same. So rule 3.1 – don’t get too engrossed in your book, 3.2 – don’t have such awesome conversations you forget to look for your landmarks, and 3.3 – don’t SMS excessively. :)

Rule # 4: There is always more space. I’m not sure if this counts as a rule, or more of a principle… but either way, when you’re traveling in Namibia, it’s very true! I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in a vehicle and thought to myself “there is no possible way another person could fit in here,” and less than two minutes later the driver has decided to prove me wrong. I usually end up making a game out of it and keeping a running total as we pick up/drop off passengers. I think my personal record is 24 on one bakkie (pick up truck), cab and bed included. Obviously, I was abiding by PC rules and riding in the cab. But yes, it happened.

Rule # 5: Enjoy yourself. It can be difficult. Sometimes you’ve spent all day walking around grocery shopping and sweating constantly and you just want to be done. But while transportation is a challenge, it’s also an adventure. Greet the people in your vehicle. Try to impress them with your language skills. Play with the small children. Count the cows. And if all else fails, conjure up some super sweet background music and imagine that you’re in a movie.

So there you have it... five simple rules to keep you sane while you get around in Namibia. Now come visit me and try them out! :)