Friday, February 15, 2013

a non-cohesive update on life

Okay…so I’ve been waiting for my random thoughts to magically organize themselves into a cohesive blog post for a few weeks now. Unfortunately that hasn’t happened. So, instead…here are some rambling, rabbit trail musings! :)

1) Murphy’s Law of Rainy Season Urination – No matter how long it’s been since you emptied your bladder, when it starts pouring, you WILL need to pee. Badly. And you’ll end up in an internal wrestling match over whether or not to get soaked on your way to the latrine, or endure the torture or staying inside and listening to the (normally beautiful but currently awful) sound of rain hitting your thatched roof. Every. Single. Time.

2) Meetings in Namibia can be… overwhelming. I’m not even sure that’s the right word. My beginning of term staff meeting began at 1:00pm, just after school let out, and I got home at 6:00pm. Let’s just say, surviving a meeting can take some considerable strategic planning.

The Sestito Guide to Nam Meeting Survival

step 1 – Have a good morning. Do whatever you need to do to put yourself in             a good mood. Listen to happy music, treat yourself to some American goodies (like Starbucks via!)… anything that will give you positive energy. Trust me, you’ll need it.

step 2 – Eat before the meeting, even if you’re not hungry yet. By the middle, you’ll be starving.

step 3 – Prepare a mental list of things to think about once you zone out.

step 4 – Always begin the meeting with your water bottle less than full. At some point, you’ll want to stretch your legs… and filling it up will be a good             excuse.

step 5 – smile! :)

3) Shitenges, a traditional cloth in my region are amazing. I always have one with me now. Always. Somehow a piece of fabric, about two yards long, has become an integral accessory to everyday life. I’m keeping a running list of all the ways to use them I’ve come across.

- As clothing. Most women in the village wear them as a wrapped skirt. I’ve also used mine as a beach cover-up, shawl, and dress.

- As shade. While walking in the sun, draping a shitenge over your head is surprisingly helpful. Also, if the sun is shining into the car, you can use it as an instant window shade. :)

- As a shower curtain.

- As a quick dry towel.

- To carry laundry, or other various items

- To carry babies (I thought they deserved their own bullet point…)

- To cushion your head when carrying heavy containers of water

- To lay on the ground when sitting outside.
And, did I mention they come in all sorts of awesome patterns, and cost approximately $2.35 USD?

4) Teaching is challenging, rewarding, frustrating, exciting, and hard work. Most of the best and worst moments I’ve had in the past month have been in the classroom. But, I’m getting there. I’m starting to develop some good routines. I’ beginning to get better at planning good lessons (that are at the appropriate level for my learners, and take the right amount of time). I’m doing my best to learn all of their names. And I’m starting to be relaxed and confident enough in the classroom to have fun while I teach.

5) I cannot get over how beautiful the sky is here. Whether it’s raining, sunny, morning, dusk, or evening… it’s always mind blowing-ly gorgeous. Neither photos nor words do it justice. Come and see.

Okay…..that’s all for now. Much love to everyone! 

Monday, February 4, 2013

A walk in the {theme} park


Peace Corps service is like a rollercoaster.

Okay, maybe this analogy is as dead as the proverbial horse… but I think it still has merit. The application process is about as close as you can get to waiting in line for the newest thrill at Six Flags. You’re standing there, awkwardly stuck between other hopeful faces, not sure when you’ll get to your destination, if you’ll get the seat in the front car as you so desperately desire, or if you’ll finally get to the front of the line only to find that you’re too short, or the park is closing, or someone threw up all over the tracks and the ride is shut down.

Then, your invitation comes. You accept, and suddenly you’re strapped in, legs dangling, clutching the handles and combating a rush of second thoughts. Is it worth it? What if this is the ride that changes everything? Should you call it all off?

But, eventually you decide that you didn’t wait in line for 3 hours (or 9-12 months…) to get to the front and then quit. So you go for it. You lurch forward and begin your long, clickety-clackety journey up the big hill – otherwise known as Pre-Service Training. PST is full of strange time-warping powers, anticipation of the “real ride”, getting to a place where you can see the view around you, and steeling your stomach for all the butterflies that promise to react to the coming drop. You make it to swearing in – that is, the top of the first big hill. You’re sure it’s all warm fuzziness and dopamine from here on out.

And it is.

And it isn’t.

Because this nearly ends the metaphor. The truth is, the actual ride that is Peace Corps Service does offer a lot of heart stopping, stomach dropping, butterfly fluttering moments. But a lot of days… you feel stuck on the tracks. Like you’re not going anywhere. So you call maintenance (cleverly disguised as fellow PCVs, friends and family) and get moving again. It can take a while, but it’ll happen.

And last of all, just like a roller coaster... I have a feeling that it will be over much to soon. And that I will look back on this amazing ride and know that it was worth the time and the price it cost to get here.