Winter in Africa (not exactly what you would think)

Well, it is winter here in Namibia and I'm freezing my butt off. And although my butt could probably stand to lose a little bit, I am not enjoying it. I started off my day on Friday by washing my hair, which only happens about every 5 days or so. (Some of you may think that's gross, but honestly my hair has never been healthier.) Anywho, I left my flat around 7 that morning and started walking to town. Within maybe 10 minutes, my hair was frozen. Like individual strands were now icicles attached to my head. My Nini always told me to never leave the house with wet hair and I, now at 25 years old, will begin taking her advice. I will make sure I wash my hair at night and let it dry in front of the heater before I make that mistake again. At night, I sleep with a heater pointed at me on high and 4 blankets. I don't sit in my living room unless the heater is on. I have actually started wearing pants to sleep. Yes friends, you heard that right, I am wearing pants. Sometimes even socks. And I absolutely hate it.  I am now glad that I made room in my suitcase for my onesie, fake uggs, North Face, and Nini's quilt. To everyone that asked me why I was packing sweaters to go to Africa, you have your answer. I mean in another volunteer's site, it is actually snowing several days a week. Who would have thought? 

My cozy bed

Anyways, now that I have explained what winter feels like to me and my bitterness towards it. I should probably tell you about my weekend so far. 

On Friday after work, I went to the local pizzeria and got my usual Friday night pizza. I have started making this a routine for a few reasons. One, I want to have a place where people expect to see me and start to know my order. It's always been a dream of mine to have a place like Cheers. Big aspirations, I know. Two, I happen to like the pizza here. They don't use marinara and I can get chicken and mushrooms. And three, I like to treat myself for making it another week. So after I picked up my pizza, I went home where I was greeted adorably by Miley. (For those of you that don't know, I adopted a cat a few weeks ago from the SPCA) She was meowing and running to get in my lap. It's nice to have someone to come home to. Then I put on my onesie and ate my pizza while watching several terrible movies. It's not unlike a Friday night I would have back in the states and that's very comforting to me. 

Just two gals being pals

On Saturday, I was invited over to the other volunteers house for brunch. They made some great omelettes and hash browns and politely listened to me vent about Peace Corps, work, stuff back home, etc. They also helped to enlighten me about some of the finer points I was not aware of about my site. Like apparently it is known as "Stab City" in other parts of Namibia. Here I was thinking I lived in a nice little town and really I should have been practicing my shanking skills in case the scenario arose that I needed them. To be honest, I haven't seen any of that violence myself yet. But that is probably because I do not go out at night and have not been to a bar yet. Now I am thankful for my hermit tendencies, because I haven't been stabbed yet. 

After brunch, I went to run a few errands. Like picking up some cat litter for Miley and going in search of a pill container. You know, like one of those that has the days of the week and little compartments for each? Because I have about 8 pills I am taking everyday- thyroid, vitamins, asthma, doxy for malaria, etc- I wanted to get something to help me keep track of everything. I thought this would be a fairly simple task, since there is a pharmacy and large grocery store right next to my flat. But neither had anything close. The shopping attendant did suggest a large metal makeup case to keep all the bottles in, but I was not going to go that far. I don't want to look like some sort of crazy person or mob man. I just wanted to keep all my pills organized like the 75 year old I feel like. 

When I gave up and admitted defeat in my quest, I went over to my co worker's soccer game. It was mid afternoon and the sun was still out, but again I was not prepared for the cold. Very quickly I was shivering and regretting my decision to not bring a warmer jacket. But I made it through his game and enjoyed it, other than the cold. It was nice to be at an event and get to see a sport I enjoy played a little differently. Plus I think he appreciated me coming, since they really only had about 5-6 drunk guys watching them. After that, I went back home and curled up with Miley to watch more Mad Men. 

Today, I'm going to take it pretty easy. I already did a bit of grocery shopping and had my standard chocolate dipped ice cream cone from Hungry Lion. So my day is off to a solid start. I'll do a little cleaning later and then maybe make some food. The menu for the week includes tacos, chickpea bruschetta, fried rice, and omelettes. I'm going to try to eat a bit healthier, but refer to my weakness a few lines up if that doesn't work out. My goal for this week is to try to find some funding for my project and to also find out where I am supposed to be putting my trash. I still have no idea, so that's a little bit of an issue. 

My living room and hermit hole

My supervisor also mentioned taking me on a vacation for 5 or so days in the next couple of weeks. I hope she tells me more about that this week, since I'm so ready to travel and see more of Namibia. Luckily, this would be Peace Corps approved, since it's with my supervisor and we would be doing some work stuff while sipping on fruity beverages. But I'm sure I can give you the full rundown once that actually occurs. 

Until next time kids!

How I feel about the cold

My mainstay meal

While being on a budget and having limited options for ingredients, it's sometimes hard to come up with a meal that really satisfies my hunger and need for deliciousness. But shortly after coming to site, I've found a meal that I have weekly. It's easy to make, relatively healthy, and quite affordable. So I'll share the recipe here for other volunteers and people back in the states looking to try something new.

Ingredients:
1 can of whole chickpeas (mine are in brine, but water would be better)
1 can of plain mushrooms (again, in brine.)
Fresh garlic (mine is from a container, which is diced finely)
1/2 of a yellow onion
Lemon
Olive oil
Dijon mustard
Salt and pepper

Start by draining the chickpeas and mushrooms. Then, chop the onion into thin slices. If the mushrooms are not sliced, cut them into bite size pieces. Add the chickpeas, mushrooms, and onion to a bowl. Add garlic, lemon juice, salt, pepper, and dijon mustard to taste. (I usually end up using about 2 tablespoons of garlic and dijon mustard.) Then, drizzle over olive oil and mix to combine. It should be the consistency of like a bruschetta topping. I then toast some bread and do a light smear of cream cheese. I spoon the mixture on top and eat it like bruschetta.

A little tip- the mixture gets so much better if you refrigerate it for a few days to let the flavors combine.

It usually makes about 4-5 servings and can easily be doubled for a larger output. You can also add other ingredients you like- tomatoes, bell peppers, squash, etc. And depending on the seasoning you use, you can change the whole dish up taste wise.

The finished product

A woman in a man's world

Today, I am going to expand upon my experiences as a female in Peace Corps Namibia. I want to state right off the bat that I do not wish to generalize and my experiences are my own. But I hope this can be revealing for anyone else experiencing the same difficulties. 

In the states, I would say I very rarely experienced unwanted male attention. Although there may be occasional issues of a too forward man in a bar, it was not a daily occurrence at all. And if you are in a bar, you expect something like that may happen. As a female in Namibia, I have experienced a long list of situations that I would never have tolerated back in the states or even expected. On a daily basis, I experience some form of male attention that makes me uncomfortable. 

My inaugural experience was in the first week I arrived in Namibia. On the first Sunday, we were all encouraged to go to a church service to introduce ourselves to the community and begin building relationships. I chose to go to the church right behind our training center, mostly because it is the closest. When I arrived at the church, I saw a familiar face outside. It was a young man who performed in the youth choir that greeted us our first night. He immediately came over to me and followed me into the church. I sat next to another volunteer and he followed into the pew beside me. He was friendly and cheerful, so I welcomed having a Namibian to explain the Afrikaans service to me. Throughout the church service, he began scooting closer and closer to me. This is when I initially started getting uncomfortable, because I have personal space issues. But I just told myself to relax, this is a different culture and I don't know what boundaries they expect yet. A few times during the service, he reached over and would make me clap my hands or explain what was going on very close to my ear. Again, I was a bit uncomfortable, but I just tried to distance myself and kept scooting over to get some of the space I felt I needed. By the end of the service, I was in a completely different side of the pew than where I started, and there he was right next to me. It was obvious that trying to buffer his approach was not working. When it was time to exit the church, he touched my shoulder and my radar went to red alert. It just felt less friendly and more intimate, something in my gut told me it was not ok. As we stood and walked out of the church, I tried to let him pass. But he stayed behind me. Right there in a crowd of church goers, he grabbed my ass 3 times. I looked back at him, not wanting to cause a scene by yelling, and he just smiled at me. I then stood to the side firmly and waited for him to pass. I had no idea how to react. I felt violated, but mostly I was just shocked. After leaving church, I explained to the other volunteers what had happened. I was deeply uncomfortable. I may have been prepared for such a thing to occur in a bar (although it still would have left me uncomfortable) but I never would have expected to be groped so publicly and in a church! Is no place sacred? I wasn't prepared for the feelings of vulnerability I had afterwards. And at a time that was very emotional to begin with, it really made me question if I had the strength to deal with this type of attention from men around me. 

Life is not a piece of (cheese)cake

Since then, I experience cat calling on a daily basis. If I happen to be in a bar, even when surrounded by male volunteers, men accost me with their words and sometimes their hands. No amount of saying, "I'm not interested" or resting bitch face seems to deter them. Unfortunately, ignoring them is just seen as "playing hard to get". As one of my Namibian trainers said, the mentality is "I see you, I like you, we go to bed." 

I can come up with a list of excuses, but none seem to completely work. Here is how some of those conversations go.

1. If I say I have a boyfriend, they say that's ok because I can have 2. 
2. If I say I have a boyfriend/husband back in the states, they say he's not here so it doesn't count.
3. If I say I have a Namibian boyfriend/husband that lives in another town, they say I need one in this town. 
4. If I say that I have a boyfriend/husband in the same place as me, they say they are better than him and can give me more.
5. If I say that I am just here to work, they say that I must have fun too. 
6. If I tell them they are too old/too young/too tall/too short/too anything, they say that I must relax and forget about those things. 
7. If I say maybe another time, they ask when and do not forget. 
8. If I say them I will find another girl for them, they say they only want me because I am the "white American".
9. If I say that I am leaving the country soon, they say it doesn't matter and we can just enjoy the night.
10. If I just say no, they keep trying until I eventually leave. 

This experience of feeling so vulnerable as a female has been alarming, and unlike anything I have experienced in the past. Although I heard of small warnings and anecdotes during the interview process and on blogs about females experiencing unwanted attention, I didn't prepare myself for how that would actually impact me. I try to just keep my head down as I'm walking home and not engage when I hear someone shout at me. I don't go out at night, because I know there is a strong chance I will encounter some drunk guy and it could turn into a dangerous situation. I don't feel comfortable wearing shorts or a skirt, even when they're relatively long, because I fear that will draw more attention to me. I always feel like I am on guard, because today might be the day that ignoring them won't work and the situation goes too far. To feel like I am hiding myself and always in protection mode is exhausting and overwhelming. I know I need to develop a stronger skin and get some mechanism that works for me to thwart their advances, but until then I have to cope with these feelings. 

I know it's not personal and some Namibian women experience this everyday of their lives. My hope, is that over my 2 years here I can develop an understanding with the men I work with and explain or show them how it feels to suffer through this as a female. Maybe then, I can start a change in how they personally approach women. I don't expect to overhaul how men treat women in Namibia as a whole. But I hope that sharing my experiences with a few men may start a change with them individually. I will continue to share my experiences on this blog and maybe by the end, I can share how some of these men have changed? Here's to hoping!

Some things I have learned about myself along the way

When many of my friends pointed out before I left the states that I would come back a different person, I thought they were being ridiculous. How could I change so drastically, when I already felt like I had a good idea of who I was? One of my funniest friends, Daniel, even joked that he wanted to have one pre-Africa lunch and one post-Africa lunch with me. He said because the things we joke about in the pre-lunch will be something that "post-Africa Pinnell" just wouldn't find funny. (I think my humor is one of the things left unchanged so far.) But, I have noticed some things about myself that have either changed or were just previously undiscovered. With being just about 4 months in, here is my list so far.

1. I am not as strong or independent as I thought I was. Now that's not to say that I'm needy or a basket case, because most of the time I'm not. But I'm not sure if I could have ever been really prepared for the struggles and challenges I have been met with so far. Prior to coming here, I would have told you that I am one of the strongest people I know and I really don't "need" anyone. That, I have found out, is just not true. I need support to get through this and I need to find my inner strength more than ever before. 

2. I am a product of America. Before coming here, I would have said that although I enjoy materialistic things, they do not define me. Unfortunately, I am finding that was just not true. The clothes I wore, the car I drove, the places I went all made up a big part of who I thought I was. When those things have been stripped away, I am left trying to figure out how to represent myself to people. And fortunately I am discovering that in Namibia, it doesn't matter what I have. People just want to get to know me for who I am. So instead of figuring out how to represent myself, I just need to focus on being myself. 

3. I am not as outgoing as I need to be. I consider myself a social person, but at the same time, I don't open up to people easily and usually let them make the first move as far as friendship goes. If I stay this way, I will be a sad and lonely person at the end of this experience. I need to reach out to people and be the first person to make a move. Like Patrick said, I need to go 90% of the way and let the other person come 10%. I am finding that to be very true here and I need to work on that. 

Not so sure about my new friend over here

4. I have no idea how to manage money. Living on a really small budget is hard. I have to be careful with every expenditure I have. Just because I'm having a bad day, doesn't mean I can go to Hungry Lion and eat all the fried chicken. If I have cash in my hand, I spend it. And I've gotta stop doing that because eventually, it's going to leave me in a bad situation where I'm eating pasta with ketchup for every meal like some other volunteers. 

5. To be cliche, I have figured out who my true friends are. When you say goodbye to people in the states and make those promises of keeping in touch, you really mean it at the time. But when you're roughly 7,000 miles away and living a slightly alternative lifestyle, those promises fail miserably. Whether it is me or them, some of my friendships have busted because of that. And that is ok, because some friendships are not meant to last a lifetime. But the people that really care about me and that I care about, we both make the effort to keep the relationship going. 

6. I can't drink like I'm in college anymore. My body, with the alcohol intolerance that it has, will not allow it anymore. I have made a fool of myself on more than one occasion during PST and I've gotta cut that out. A few drinks and I'll be fine. But I need to re-learn my limits and keep it classy. Ron Burgundy wouldn't want it any other way. 

7. That being said, I'm not really ready to "grow up" completely. I am not ready for marriage or kids right now. I don't want to be settled down, living in one place for the rest of my life. And for goodness sake, I still love Disney movies. Maybe at the end of this those first 2 things will change, but for now I am willing to say that I'm just not ready to settle down yet and that's ok. However, Disney movies will always be an important part of my life. That will never change. 

8. I value the comfy things in life. Whether it is a fuzzy blanket, a great pair of socks, or a good hug I want things that make me feel at ease. The little things can change my mood and make me feel alright when I'm having a bad day. Things that are making life uncomfortable like clingy clothes, skeezy dudes, and the corporate ladder, can just get out. Basically, bitch don't kill my vibe.

9. I am starting to figure out what I am good at and what I am not so good at. Which in turn, is leading me to really consider what I want to do with my career. Some things I know for sure: I will be going to some form of graduate school, I want to work with children, I need structure and spontaneity, and I do not follow the rules very well. So where does that leave me? Well, I'm not quite to that conclusion yet. But I'll keep you posted. 

If only everyday was this fun

10. I have learned to let go. Whether it is of drama, annoyances, stress, etc I have learned to put it aside. Now I have not perfected that and things do still weigh on me, but I try to let the little things go. Rather than spending all of my time absorbed in something trivial, I try to absorb what is around me instead. I want to be present and soak up every moment I have. So I will continue to perfect this practice, because it makes me a happier person. 

I am sure there are many things I have yet to discover, but I hope to record them here when I do. At the very least, it will be a nice journal to look back on in several years to see how I have changed. Hopefully, it won't be as embarassing as looking back on my old Myspace. (Why did I throw up so many gang signs in pictures and who told me that bleaching my hair until almost blond was a good idea?!? Eish...)

Blindfolded before site reveal

Why I never thought I would miss Okahandja, but I do.

Okahandja was the home of our pre-service training and consequently, what kind of feels like home to me in Namibia. Our whole group of 31 people began the PC journey here and it will probably shape our service somewhat. When we first arrived in country, we were whisked away on a charter bus to Okahandja. At the time, I had no idea what to expect or imagine for my living situation or training experience for the next 2 months. When we arrived at the training center, we were greeted by two lines of singing and dancing Namibians. Talk about surreal, I am stepping off of a bus in Africa and people are singing to me in a language I don't understand. I cried. They were not sad tears, but tears of being overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the beauty of the little bit of country I had seen so far. Overwhelmed by the emotions of those around me. And overwhelmed that I was experiencing something so incredibly foreign to me, yet insanely inspiring.

Next we were dividing into our summer camp sytle rooms, complete with bunk beds and mosquito nets. Shay, Steffie, Alex, and Catherine were my wonderful roommates who put up with me saying the first night, "I hope you guys are ok with my booty shorts, because I just can't deal with pants in bed." (My American friends will now be laughing at how true that statement is.) Side note: These girls were amazing and I often wish I could do that first week over so I could have expressed that more.  We stayed in this summer camp life for about a week. We had a little cabana/patio where we would congregate each night, ate all of our meals together, and reluctantly shared a communal bathroom where hot water was sometimes scarce. But it was perfect. At night, we would hang around talking, listening to music, playing Cards Against Humanity, reading, journaling, you name it. This is where we started to bond and this is where we started to become a family. We also went to class everyday, even when deliriously tired from the jetlag, but at the time that was less important.

My language group and our adorable Tannie

Soon, we were transitioned into the homestay phase of training. We were paired with our families and suddenly, I was experiencing a life I had not experienced before. I now had a mother, sister, and 6 host brothers all living in a 2 bedroom house. I was not prepared for this life, but I am now so thankful that I experienced it. Things started off rocky at first, mostly because I preferred being in my room crying as opposed to being a family member. But soon I got over myself and became the big sister I should have been. Louda is now my mom and it feels weird calling her by any other name. Charnay is my sister and I still call her once a week to make sure she doesn't have a boyfriend and is doing her homework. Creswyn is my little brother and the poor thing misses me so much he keeps threatening to come and live with me. Because of Jason, I will forever know the Spongebob theme song. These guys are my family now. Whether it was watching Indian soapies at night, going on our little walks, or them horrifyingly watching me cook, it was a delight to be welcomed into their home and hearts. Veddersdal always has a room open for me now and I hope to cash in on that soon. Plus I have the kids for August break, so I will have fun putting off my "biological clock" with that little vacation.

Mom and Charnay at American Cultural Day

My home in Okahandja

In addition to homestay and training, we also got to know Okahandja on our own terms. Without fail, I went to Spar at least once a day. Usually for apple juice and a pie in the mornings, then asking the ladies to make me my own special chicken salad sandwich for lunch. Although they started joking with me at the end about not having it, they always came through. In the evenings, we would usually congregate at our favorite bar Li-Janis. Lina and Jan took such good care of us, sometimes in my case a little too good. Ahhh, it was the best of times and it was the worst of times. Without fail, on Thursdays and Fridays there would be trainees there. I think we were their main business source, as I know at least, that they got a fair share of my American money. But it was nice to just sit around the picnic tables, hopefully with music coming out of a portable speaker, and de-stress with the only other 30 people who knew what I was experiencing. Plus the kumbi rides were pretty hilarious after one of the rowdy nights. On the weekends, we started congregating at Spur. Although completely racist and a chain, it did serve a damn fine burger. So when I would be hungry from not eating my home food for several days (Sorry Mom, I just couldn't do more brown gravy), I would indulge in a massive burger with mushroom sauce. We would all sit around either eating, using the wifi, or some combination of both. Multi-tasking at its finest.

One of our nights at Li-Janis

Other fun memories include: Shoving 8 people into a hatchback taxi so we could make it Vdal by curfew. Gail's host dog following her into Spur and then eating a steak under the table. Not knowing if we were being stared at in Rhino's because we were Americans or because I just found out they had Coke floats and squealed a little. Escaping to forbidden shabeens. Playing the never-ending game of Marry, Fuck, Kill and the surprising answers. Having Alex's "boyfriend" drive us home and listening to Ed Sheeran for the millionth time. The time my secret vodka was busted and I had to communicate to a creeper to get a refill. My first time seeing and hearing a goat be butchered, on a table that I think we later used in class. Skipping Tannie's Afrikaans class because I had senioritis and she couldn't say no to me. Every morning where we would try to sing and fail miserably, so Rachel would cut us off. Remsey popping out of a tent at the Herrero Coronation, just when we had given up looking for him. Any dance-off where Phil is included. That time I was put into a headlock and fell asleep like that. Every single morning at the bus stop. Movie night and slushies. The freakin expo where I learned how to dance like a Namibian and run away from our denim-clad security officer. Singing the Namibian national anthem while mostly intoxicated. Sitting in the sun, just absorbing it like the pale face I am. Every time Mama Rosa spoke, because she has a presence. Maureen stealing cups, sometimes when they still have ice in them. Walking into a room where a lady just gave birth or is still kind of in the process of giving birth. Playing barefoot soccer with the local kids my first week. Uptown Funk still being a thing. Remix to Ignition will always being a thing. Jan knowing my drink order and starting it when he saw my face come through the door. Trying to figure out how to talk to Alex without a phone. My kids making fun of how I saw "Asseblief". Allison when she would say "Scone Ass".

And a million more...  (which hopefully I will keep adding as I think of them.)

Hanging with my best booze buddies

How many people can you shove in a bakkie?

How did I get here?

When I initially applied for the Peace Corps, almost a year and a half ago, I did it because I needed a change. I hated the work I was doing and did not have a clear path to get to the career I wanted to have. Although I had a few close friends, I didn't have anything tying me down to where I was. I had always dreamed of going to Africa and working in some sort of non-profit. But at the time that's all it was, a dream. I never thought I would actually do it. Even after applying to the Peace Corps, I never thought I would make it all the way through. I knew it was a very competitive process and frankly I wasn't confident that I was at the same level of other applicants. Self-confidence is sometimes a foreign concept to me. But I did it, I filled out my application and clicked that submit button. 

The night I submitted my application

Then, several months later I was invited for an interview. Going into the interview, I was excited and nervous. But I thought as most interviews work, that I would complete the interview and then it would take several weeks to hear back. But little did I know. My recruiter nominated me right there at the end of the interview. He felt I was a strong enough candidate to be moved onto the next step. When I found out, I was shaking. Again, I never thought I would get even this far. I called my sister crying, because it finally felt a little real. I did a happy dance with my friends and went out to celebrate. Then months went by, where I completed medical paperwork and security clearances. It wasn't official yet, I still had to be reviewed by a placement officer to see if I was a candidate they wanted to invite to actually serve. Finally, I got the email from the placement officer. She wanted to invite me, but because of my health history, she had to work to find a suitable post. This went on for a few short weeks, until finally she sent me the invitation for Namibia. I was ecstatic, but still it didn't feel completely real. Even after accepting the invitation, I still had about 8 months before I would actually depart. Which at the time, felt like an eternity. 

I never thought I would be here

I didn't know what would change in 8 months and if by the time April came around, that I would still want to leave. When I would think about really leaving, it would become overwhelming. So I entered denial a little bit. I got a new apartment, job, and boyfriend in short order. And although I would talk about leaving and how I couldn't wait for it to happen, I had doubts in my mind. Although I consider myself a strong person when it comes to some things, I do let anxiety interfere with my life. So imagining leaving everything I have ever known and everyone I love to go to a foreign country for 2 years, was too much to process at times. It was positively terrifying. But with every doubt that would enter my mind- immense joy, excitement, and pride would also come. I was getting a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something I had always talked about. And although I was terrified, I knew it was something I at least had to try. So, I started preparing my life to leave. I said tearful goodbyes to my friends, packed everything I could into 2 suitcases, and left to see my sister one more time. 

My official invitation

Now I'm going to be honest, I had a breakdown just days before I left. I started panicking, every time I would think about actually being that far away from my comfort zone it felt like I was suffocating. To be completely transparent, I even told my sister I wasn't going to go anymore. I had decided that it was too hard and I just couldn't get on that plane. But I dried my tear soaked face and I went to staging/orientation anyways. And even though everything inside of me made me want to bolt, I kept pushing forward. Through tears and rapid breathing, I got on the plane. And after a long trip, I arrived. Now at times, did I want to get right back on a plane home? Yes, absolutely. But I kept pushing. I just told myself that if I could just make it another day, then I could go home. And even though the 3rd night in homestay I had a panic attack and packed my bags to leave, I kept pushing. I couldn't make the call and really give up yet. A day turned into a few days, then that turned into a week, then suddenly it was the end of training and I was getting ready to depart to my site. Now I didn't get through this by myself, when I was having weak moments others around me helped. They listened to me, they understood all of the feelings I had, and they helped me to find my strength. It wasn't all doom and gloom, I would have days and moments where I didn't want to be anywhere else but here. I had moments where I was absolutely positive this is exactly where I should be and exactly what I should be doing. Is that 24/7? Absolutely not. But here I am anyways.

I still have doubts, I still have moments where I just want to be at home with my friends and sister. I have moments where I am completely positive that I am going to call headquarters and ET (early-terminate). But I keep pushing and I try to not let my anxiety steal my chance. When I see the change that Peace Corps volunteers can make in the community or the impact it has on individuals, I know that I am in the right place. I know that I have to do this. Yes, 2 years still seems like forever to me. But in the span of my lifetime, it's not that long. And I can use these 2 years to help others, to actually make a difference. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and if I didn't try my hardest to make it through this, I think it would be a regret I would have for the rest of my life. So every day, I am going to try to push past the fear and the sadness. Every day, I am going to try to find the light and joy in my situation. And eventually, I hope the fear and sadness will just drift away- days will turn into weeks which turn into months, and it will suddenly be the end of my 2 years here. Maybe at that time, I won't want to leave? Who knows what will happen? What I do know, is that I am supposed to be here right now. And every day I am here, is a blessing and an opportunity to make a difference. It is a chance to participate in something bigger than myself. However long that is for, I am thankful.  

How upset can I be when this is my view?

My experience, so far

Where to begin, where to begin...

Because I'm starting this blog a little late, there is so much that I feel like I should fill you in on. First of all, I'm in Namibia. I know, huge shocker based on the title of this blog. But just in case you did not know, I thought I should state that from the beginning. If you were looking for my adventure blog from Botswana, you are in the wrong place. 

Group 41 has arrived in Namibia

Secondly, I am an official Peace Corps Volunteer. Just about 2 weeks ago, I had the pleasure of being sworn in and becoming an official member of the Peace Corps. To say it's been a long journey to get to this point, would be an understatement. But that's for another post and another time. For now, I want to celebrate the fact that I am official- like can put this on my resume, change my facebook status, official. Hold your applause people, because that just means the start of a lengthy adventure with its fair share of challenges. I know that a lot of volunteers would like to present the story that our time in PC is something of a twentysomething, travel junkie's dream board. But in reality, that's only on like Tuesdays and every other weekend. The rest of the time, we are living a fairly normal life. Or at least as normal as possible for being in a foreign country, learning a new culture, and trying to change the world through one tiny human at a time, can be. 

So what is normal for me, you ask? Well I am now living in an adorable town in southern Namibia. I cannot reveal the exact location to you, because our denim-clad Safety and Security Officer would probably call me and ask if I wanted stalkers. But if you are one of my personal friends, all like 27 of you, then you already know which town that is and can now Google all the facts. My housing is more than I could have dreamed of. When you move to Africa and have no idea where you will be living, like me, you probably assume a hut. And some of my other volunteers do, in fact, live in huts. I am not one of those people though. I have a 2 bedroom flat on government property, with all the modern amenities of the states. I would like to say that the 2nd bedroom will be turned into my crafting room or a shoe closet, but in October I will get an Education volunteer as a roommate. Until then, I will keep my fingers crossed that they are not a total creeper... But seriously, I am thankful that I will get someone to share this experience with and binge watch New Girl with me. 

#nofilterneeded

Now for the reason I am actually here, after all it's not like I came here for a vacation. I am working at a non-profit in town, previously known as Orange Babies. Recently that organization has decided to move into new projects and depart from ours, so I am working with my supervisor on a new name and new mission statement for our organization. Speaking of my supervisor, she is so driven and motivated to make change in her community, that I am in awe of her. Because that organization is pulling out, my supervisor will lose her salary and all established funding for her project. But rather than shut her doors and go home to watch soapies, she has decided to continue without a salary or formal funding. She knows the people in her community still need her help, so she is going to continue to provide that to them. Now this could be a really difficult time to get involved in an organization, but I am welcoming the challenge. Without a major company dictating our activities, we can really create programs that the community needs. Whether that is helping women learn business skills through computer classes, working on a nutrition program for children, or starting a recycling project, we have the freedom to go into any subject area we would like. And thankfully, my supervisor is letting me spearhead that exploration of projects. Now I am sure that will lead to its own set of challenges- like not having a formal structure to my project, or having many, many failed ideas- but for now, I am embracing it. I welcome the freedom to create my own unique experience here. 

Let's see, you now know a bit about my home and my project. I should probably fill you in on my social activities and eating habits. That is the next logical place to go, right? Well let's see, I could probably spend 8 hours typing about food. So I will start with my social life and save food for another post. My social life is stellar, I mean I'm like the biggest thing to hit this town since Hungry Lion. I have total celebrity status, it's like people are fainting over me... Just kidding! My social life is a little lackluster right now, but that's no reason to eat a pint of Ben&Jerry's. (Kidding again, I never need a reason to eat a whole pint.) But don't worry about me, I am slowly making friends. My supervisor took me to a dance last week, where I clumsily learned how to Langarm. It was not as smooth as my twerking abilities, so I'm going to start taking dance lessons from her instructor. I also went to my counterpart's nephew's 21st birthday party last week. Yes, Namibians did get that from America because the drinking age is basically non-existent here, but legally 18. It was a big event, like wedding tent and hookahs everywhere. But I really enjoyed myself and was thankful for the invitation! Also this week, two of my student's and my supervisor's son invited me to the church's youth group. Although it was after my grandma bedtime of 8:00, I went. Now I won't completely describe the night,because that would probably overwhelm you, like it did me, but let's just say that church is on another level here! Next time, I will make sure to carb load and stretch before such an event, because you need energy for the way they praise here. Whew, just thinking about it now makes me tired again. 

Other than that, I am trying to keep in touch with my fellow volunteers. (Shout out to Group 41!) Thankfully, we all have really cheap phones that allow us to send brief, like 140 character, messages to express our deepest emotions and fears. It actually hasn't been all that serious lately, other than what seems like the entire staff quitting at headquarters. It's rare to find a group of people that are so progressive and driven, with just as many quirks as me, that I feel like that has been the biggest blessing of my experience so far. Getting to meet each of them and share this adventure together is a delight. They are now the most awesome, yet sometimes dysfunctional, family I could hope for! So a special thanks to them for supporting me, both emotionally like when I'm homesick, and physically like when I'm less than sober. 

I almost forgot, it is 4th of July! So even though I'm not back at home drinking Jack Daniels and singing Toby Keith, know that I am making it my mission for the day to celebrate in my own little way. It is time for me to put on my American flag bikini and get some of this African sun on my skin. Classy!

Until next time y'all!

Here I am, in all my glory

PS- Please ignore any spelling or grammar errors this blog may contain. Since learning Afrikaans, I've basically lost my English.