Day 27

Things are changing. There are fewer and fewer means of measuring days left to us. In the States and our first couple of weeks, time was the measure. Days went quickly, then slowly, then quickly again. Locals use temperature to measure days, having hot days, very hot days, and days with “weather”, where clouds, wind, and occasional rain segment the hours. I used to refer to classes attended, sessions sat in, and trainings endured. But all these measures have lost their utility.

Time is no more a resource than the heat, and we spend most of each day avoiding them both. My observation is that cultural norms have blended with a simple resource issue to create this thing we call “Africa time”. Without cars, getting anywhere on time is a difficult task. Depending on weather, who you are walking with, your mood, and who you meet, it can take anywhere from ten minutes to hours to cross town. How can anyone honestly expect a timely arrival under such circumstances?

Weather is a favorite gripe and conversation moderator. Whether you’re greeting a stranger, filling silence in an awkward conversation, or recalling the day’s events with a friend, the weather will be mentioned. The heat is both a way of life and a curse. Here in Omaruru we tolerate our environment as a child tolerates the play pen; occasionally fussing, but mostly trying to find entertainment with whatever can be found.

Flexibility is no doubt a requirement here. Plans change daily and promises lack romantic connotations of fulfillment. Because of this work has less glamour. The challenge is continuing on in the morning, not making it through the day. The challenge is trying not to anticipate what may happen, despite written timelines and verbal assurances.

Without these key utilities to measure days, this past week has gone by not quickly or slowly, not hot or dry, not busily or laid back; rather these days have just gone by. Perhaps a measure will present itself, some adjective that could contrast one day from the next. For now, all I have are stories.

I got home about 18h00. The afternoon sun mixes with small quantities of dust diluted in the air, causing a paling effect that both dull and simplify the view. I walked through the house, dropping my things on my bed, and proceed to the front porch with a book. On the front stoop I relax on the short wall in between two pillars. A rough breeze attempts to cool our town, but the radiant heat from the ground and buildings puts up a hideous fight. Three roosters, one adult and two babies walk by, thrusting their heads forward with each step they take, stopping every three or four steps to either peck the ground, cast a suspicious glance at me, or let out a bellowing “Koook-a-dooo-a-doooooo!” Trees across the street play with each other in the wind, mocked by the cacti that stand like English bobbies, unflinching even when taunted.

After reading a couple of chapters, I go next door to take a shower. The shower has cold water only, but when taking a shower in the evening the hot of the day and the warmth of the pipes make this minor fact inconsequential. The small house the shower is located in is just twenty steps from the back door, and has an external entrance. A single pipe (no shower head) drops water from two feet above my six foot body, both relaxing and cooling every part of me. Refreshed, I stop to say “hi” to the dogs and rooster on the way in. They hide in the safe shadows of small bushes, looking at me hopefully as if I was about to either make it rain or give them food.

Back on the front stoop now, I have witnessed large thick clouds combine to blot out more and more of the blue. The nearly inaudible sounds of distant thunder bring memories of rain just last Sunday, but it’s the small rainbow that can be seen nearby that brings hope of rain tonight. It’s raining on the other side of town. One solitary cloud decided to rejoin the ground, but was unable to convince its neighbors to come along. Rain can be smelt on the wind now. Every time it rains it seems like it’s the first time.

I’ll be wrapping up the day by watching Mr. Bean on TV, having a quiet dinner with the family, and reading a bit more Stephen King. A tidy end to a Saturday.

This morning we all met at camp. All 58 of us got up early so that we could be stuck with another needle and share stories from the pseudo home front. It was amazing how diverse our situations were. Some bath in buckets with cold water (Matt) while others have in-home hot water showers (most of us Omaruru guys). We have been split into four cities, three of them outside of town, and the fourth right here. Only us IT and TRC volunteers are staying here, and we’re very happy about it.

The story of the day was from Myrial. Once her host father left for a week the partying began. She was convinced to go with her host mother and a strange guy (who had been drinking and making verbal sexual advances on her) to a dance club in the location. She convinced them to stop at another host family’s house on the chance that they may be able to help her. After some swerving down the street, it became clear to Myrial that she was in a bad spot. It was PCT Chris that saved the day, telling the drunk couple that there was no way Myrial was going with them to the dance. She has since been placed in a new family, actually the home of Dameon (our favorite Namibian youth) and Celina (a true African super-mom), so everyone is happy.

Many of the discussions centered around chores. Most of the men found that they were not expected to do anything, while many of the women were asked to do a bit more than their fair share. Some men were admonished for doing dishes, while others were welcomed to cook and clean. I have to admit that I’ve been pretty lazy here, and intend to help out more tonight. I helped with dinner last night, but wasn’t really of much use.

After our morning sessions, we were set free. Having already got my hour of Internet time early this morning, I didn’t need to stick around. Jay and I went with his host father to Omaruru primary school to look at some broken computers. The school was very nice (Namibian for saying it was previously a white-only school) and Catholic. The archaic IBM computers actually ran, and we found that the original software was already installed. Good old DOS, Word 4, and logo will make for some entertainment for learners next year. What was most startling to me at the school was the health display. One entire corner of a main room was dedicated to AIDS information. This included pamphlets on how to put a condom on, how feminine contraception worked, urgings to “stay faithful” to one person, and use the ABC’s (Abstinence, Be careful, Condomize). Imagine such a display in a Catholic school in the States! Here no one debates the ethics of contraception. AIDS is destroying these people, and all means of fighting it are being employed. There are currently 120 million Africans with AIDS, including children. We learned that in some towns AIDS is so stigmatized that doctors tell patients they have TB (tuberculoses), but neglect to mention AIDS. While TB is a common problem among AIDS inflicted people here, the cause is the AIDS. We also learned that the highest risk factor for women is being married. Both men and women often have extra-marital sexual relationships, but continue to have unprotected sex with each other. Women often have no choice as they are financially dependent and culturally expected to do as they are told. Meanwhile orphanages overflow with youth who are left without family. It’s a sad situation. I wonder if the odd family structures here are the result of youth being shuttled to distant relatives as parents either leave to find work or die of AIDS. I doubt there is a single household in this entire town that has just two parents and kids only from that partnership.

After that our language group met to watch an Afrikaans movie. This ended up being “The Gods Must Be Crazy” which is not Afrikaans, but is African and funny. We were only able to get through half of it though; most of us were nodding off, wishing we were either on a soft bed or enjoying a meal. We all left earlier than expected.

Tomorrow I go to a Catholic church in the location with my host mother. I’m looking forward to seeing the location (which I haven’t yet) and other parts of town. I also wonder how this church will differ from ones in the states. After that, who knows.