A State of Mind

Life in the fast lane, which is full of potholes

2011-02-25T07:07:00.007-06:00

Earlier this term, one Thursday night while sitting at my computer trying to bang out some lesson plans before a weekend in Rehoboth, I got an sms from one of the teachers at the local junior secondary school that said simply "Hi."

I suppose I should detour this story for a moment, before it even begins, and explain why this is significant. The community where I live in southern Namibia, if not exactly Westernized, could at least be described accurately as being very Western-conscious; I daresay probably more so than a lot of our neighboring communities, thanks to the dual influence of American media and American volunteers. In addition to the two Peace Corps Volunteers who proceeded me in the community, the schools here have had a handful of World Teach volunteers over the past couple of years, so most people are accustomed to encountering real flesh-and-blood Americans. They know, for example, that Americans like things to start on time, and they know that Americans do not generally like to beat around the bush.

Knowing these things, however, does not change the fact that, just as Americans are inherently American, Namibians are inherently Namibian. My colleagues are usually willing to be direct with me, unless it is in regards to something Very Important and Serious, in which case their Namibian upbringings kick in and they go back to being...well, Namibian.

In Namibia, you greet first and ask questions later. How formal you need to be can vary depending on the situation and who's involved; for example, with the older gentleman who drives the only combi in town, it is usually necessary for me to exchange quite a few pleasantries, inquiries after family members, and comments on the weather before I can ask him if he has a seat for me to go to Rehoboth this weekend. (Assuming I want a positive answer, of course.) On the other hand, when I can't get the fax machine to work, my school's secretary will allow "Good morning, how are you, can you please help me get this f***ing fax machine to work," to suffice.

But as I said, things that are Very Important and Serious tend to cause people to jump to the highest echelon of formality, in which you greet first, await a regreeting (which is officially a word, starting now now), and only then begin the exchange of pleasantries that will proceed the actual reason you initiated the conversation in the first place.

The good integrated Peace Corps Volunteer in me appreciates the gesture of respect. But mostly? It just drives me nuts.

So here we go, the beginning of a Very Important and Serious conversation. "Hi, what's up?" "It's fine, and with you?" (BTW, this is a retelling of the story in American English, as opposed to Text Namlish.) "Good, just busy." "Are you very busy these days?" "Yes, very busy with the school. And you?" "Yes, the school and the library, there is a lot of work." "Yes, a lot of work." "Anyway, I just wanted to know how it was with you." "It's good." "Good to hear. Are you busy now?" "Yes, I'm trying to get some work done before I go to Rehoboth." (Work that this not-really-a-conversation is keeping me from.) "Oh, are you going to Rehoboth for the weekend?" "Yes." "Enjoy it." "I will." "Say, I wanted to talk to you about something." "Okay, well we can talk about it, but only on Monday because I am busy now." "So you're too busy to talk today." "Yes." "Oh, I just wondered if you were busy." "Yes, but I think I'll have time to talk on Monday." "Yes, Monday. That will be fine." "Okay then, talk to you Monday." "Yes, we will talk on Monday. You must enjoy your weekend." "Will do." "And I will talk to you on Monday." "Ok." "Okay see you then."

Thank God MTC gives me 100 SMSes per day.

So come to find out, once I finally got him to actually state his inquiry, the thing that he wanted to talk to me about but I was too busy (in addition to being fine and very busy and what), was co-teaching a basic computer class for adults in the community. To which I immediately agreed, in spite of a) being way out of practice at teaching adults, b) never having taught computers to anyone of any age or any technological skill level, and c) not having any of the relevant vocabulary to teach a computer class in Afrikaans. What could possibly go wrong, right?

Fortunately, this story doesn't end in disaster - if anything, I think it proves just how much faith my community members have in me (or how much they'll let me get away with because I'm American), and how quickly good ideas spread. The first day of class (which was Valentine's Day) we had about 10 students show up - eight adults and two of my Grade 7 learners. My co-teacher was late, our students were mostly on time, and so there I am, standing alone in front of a group of people, most of whom I know only tangentally, and all of whom are paying good money to sit there and have me teach them computers.

I thought I was going to throw up.

But actually, it went pretty great, for a first day. Turns out that Microsoft Paint is fun for all ages. Cool, I figured, we'll go at this one week at a time, work out the bugs, if it goes well maybe we'll have another class next term. Giving computer classes is something I'd previously thought about doing as a secondary project, since not all of the learners at the junior secondary school take computers and neither of the primary schools offer it either. Integrating ICT into primary and secondary projects...check.

The next day at school the rest of Grade 7 and most of Grade 6 came and asked if they could sign up for computer class. And all of a sudden what was supposed to be one class, twice a week has turned into two ten-person classes twice per week, plus prep and the inevitable post-class line of students with questions. I've already got parents sending notes to school with their children asking me to please pre-register them for next term's class, and the ones who got in for this term want to know if there will be another class for them to take in the winter. I went to explain the registration procedure to Grade 7 (come talk to me and be sure I write your name down before you leave - super fancy and complicated, I know) and my colleague took several minutes to extol the value of beginning computer classes in primary school.

Holy crap. If I'd known people were going to jump on the bandwagon like this, I'd have tried to start earlier.

To be sure, it's challenging. For one thing, neither I nor my co-teacher speak an adequate amount of Afrikaans to teach this class to the non-English speaking portion of the community. (For both of us, Afrikaans is a fourth language.) Fortunately, we've found that our more English-proficient learners are willing to help the less-English proficient when neither instructor can figure out how to explain "Click and drag to find your name, then press start" in Afrikaans. With the primary school kids, I have had no language issue, but they are used to my English; we'll see how he fares this week when I'm away on a workshop. We also have one student who we're pretty sure is functionally illiterate and are trying to figure out how to conduct the course in a way which will benefit him without boring everyone else. And of course, there's the problem that we're both balancing our regular teaching jobs, compensatory teaching, and other after-school clubs and activities with this class. Oh, and we're trying to get Telecom Namibia to lay cables so that we can get internet in the computer lab, and my school is starting to get on my case about acquiring some computers of our own...

Time flies when you're working hard! Can't believe it's the end of February already. So much for my plan to teach fractions this term.

Resolving to do better in 2011

2011-02-05T03:33:00.003-06:00

To those of you who still check this blog for updates on how I'm doing in Namibia, I'm sorry that it hasn't been a better (read: more frequent) story. I'm resolving to do better in 2011.

Those of you who have kept up with me through alternate means of communication (i.e. Facebook or my mom) during the past 18 months know that this experience has had way more than its fair share of ups and downs. In pre-service training, they show us this PowerPoint about the cycle of ups and downs of Peace Corps life. I remember being freaked out by it at the time, but honestly, the real thing is so much more intense. Waking up every morning, even this far into service, I still never know what kind of day it's going to be.

Though my second year technically began back in October, the commencement of the new school year in January feels much more like a new chapter in my service than my group's "Vol-iversary" as marked on my calendar did. And this year has started...not so much with a bang, but with a rush. I am already swamped with responsibilities, not only at school, but also for those secondary projects that all seem to have materialized at once - Camp GLOW 2011, for which I'm on the planning board, and an adult basic computer class that I'm co-teaching with a colleague at my village's secondary school. I am really excited to be working on both projects - being a part of Camp GLOW was a dream of mine before my service even started - but my free time for the rest of this term has already gone completely out the window and it's only Week 3...

You can check out my Flickr site for some photos I uploaded on my recent trip to the U.S.; hopefully in the next couple of weeks I'll have the opportunity to upload the photos of my other December trip to Zambia and Zimbabwe as well.

Until next time, which I hope will be soon!

At long last, the silence lifts!

2010-09-25T07:18:00.002-05:00

Let me just start by saying this: I am still here, and things are better.

I have come a long way since the exercise in awfulness that was Term 1. A LONG way. I am no longer actively thinking about quitting every five minutes. I have some degree of control over my classroom the majority of the time. There is actually evidence, both qualitative and quantitative, that my learners are actually learning things* and that it might possibly be related to something I'm doing. It is a much more exciting and rewarding feeling to be here now that I'm able to bathe, eat and sleep on a regular basis, to say nothing of actually relaxing.

Second term was challenging in a completely different way than first term, in that instead of having a million little problems every day, I had a handful of really big, serious problems that would last a few weeks before finally being resolved. Things like sporadic attendance of learners ultimately resulting in kids dropping out of school. Things like borderline learner-learner sexual harassment. Things like kids losing parents and spiraling into very real and very serious depression. Things like learners excising their anger about issues at home through random acts of violence against classmates. They tell us about these things in PST - out of school youth and gender roles and relations and the effects of HIV/AIDS and domestic violence - but the fact is that helping kids to deal with all this heavy stuff is a completely different ballgame.

A lot of volunteers say that you spend the majority of your first year, if not the whole thing, just trying to figure out which way is up. It's so true. There are so many mornings when I wake up, go through the motions of starting the day, and find myself wishing that I'd known something or other back in February, that I'd thought to ask a certain question back in PST, that I had prepared myself in a completely different way for this experience. I feel remorse for not working harder to start certain projects earlier, even as I know that it just wasn't possible, because the one year and change that I have remaining doesn't seem like nearly enough time to accomplish...well, anything. I spend my tough days now thinking about how I'm going to explain what often seems like an utter lack of activity to everyone and their brother when I go home for Christmas and Adrien's wedding in December.

I know I'm not doing nothing. I had fantastic improvement in most of my classes between first and second terms - 9 kids in Grade 5 English alone improved to the next letter grade, and half the kids showed improvement in math. I'm hoping to at least see continued improvement this term, even if not quite as impressive. The work this term, at least in math, is substantially easier - moving from the horrors of fractions and decimals to topics like measuring, basic geometry and telling time. I'm trying to push the Grade 5s to read more, the Grade 7s to think a little bit harder and the Grade 6s to just get it together. We'll see what happens.

*Actually this is only true in two of the three grades I teach, but I'll take it.

This is not the duty I signed up for, sir.

2010-05-05T13:04:00.003-05:00

There are a lot of reasons that I've been neglecting this blog for almost five months now. The fact that affordable, computer-based internet only exists from 1-5 AM is a major one. But the biggest reason that I haven't done a better job of chronicling my Namibian life for everyone to read up to this point is, quite simply, for that very reason.

They say that the toughest part of Peace Corps service is the first three months at site. And they're not wrong; the first three months was a total roller coaster ride. But for as difficult as the first three months were, I found that I was usually able to stay positive by reminding myself that coming in at the end of the term was tough, that getting technical training at our Reconnect conference in January would help me to fix all the mistakes I knew I was making but didn't know exactly how to rectify.

And then the end of the term passed. Spending December break on the road with my friends renewed me. Reconnect gave me tons of great resources, tips and ideas I wished I'd had when I started teaching in October. I was so ready to go back to school in January, to start over with new classes where I was in control and where I was certain to be able to accomplish something, however small. Term 1, I was certain, would be better than Term 3.

I was so wrong. I have never, in my entire life, been more miserable than I have been for the last four months.

I honestly cannot say much about my days of teaching this term; every single one of them is no more than a blur of yelling and frustration and self-loathing. When I am in class, I am an ogre, and I hate myself for it. When I am out of class...well, I'm never really out of class. When the bell (mercifully) rings every day at 1 PM, I know that I have about half an hour to get home, prepare and eat my lunch, and get back to work. I teach 37 periods per week (out of 39), for four different promotional classes and two non-promotional subjects, which means that I spend approximately 90% of my waking hours devoted to lesson preparation and various school-related tasks.

Seriously. I've stopped bathing every day because I know that the time I spend in the tub is time out of my lesson preparations, which in turn is time out of my already-light sleeping schedule. The only dreams I have anymore involve all my learners and colleagues being in my house, in my bedroom, in the middle of the night asking me to do things - mark papers and teach classes and coach netball and make photocopies. Any time that I take to do things to relax inevitably ends up with me feeling guilty about not spending that time preparing for classes and stressing even more about how I'm going to fit it all in.

Walks around my community? Social visits to my host family? Playing with my neighbor kids? Having learners over for cooldrinks and conversations? Forget it. Integrating requires far more energy than I've got to give. I'm putting my all into survival.

This is not how it's supposed to be. At all times, I am distinctly aware that something is seriously wrong here, that giving all I've got to an endeavor that's giving me nothing but heartbreak in return is no way to live. And yet every time I think that I need to demand that something changes, I immediately start worrying about the domino effect that I'm going to have. If I ask to reduce my teaching load, we'll have to recombine Grades 6 and 7, and the kids will suffer. If I ask someone to take time to help me with Afrikaans or to help me learn more about the community, that's time that person doesn't have to spend on something important. Other people have real problems of their own and don't need to be bothered with stuff I should be able to handle on my own.

This is something I've known about myself as long as I can remember: when given the option, I always elect to suffer in relative silence rather than telling people how I feel, until I reach a breaking point. That point was Week 8 - the middle of the term - when I spent an entire week sobbing uncontrollably on the phone with one of the VSN representatives. It was kind of awful and liberating at the same time. As much as I hate talking about my problems, it was really nice to have someone validate how overwhelmed and frustrated and angry and isolated I was feeling.

I know that I have to ask for things to change, and I know that no matter how much I know it's acceptable and normal, I'm still going to feel guilty. But I've also realized that, especially as a teacher, that suffering in silence simply isn't an option. As much as I try to keep things bottled up, I'm kind of like that flask I inherited from Milan and Pat...shiny, but noticeably leaky. My constant state of exhaustion gives me a short fuse. Grade Whatever disrespects me during first period, which upsets me even more because I can't think straight. I start the next class in a funk from how badly the first class went, which just magnifies the problems that invariably crop up during the following class. And so on. And so forth. For eight periods per day, five days per week, fifteen weeks per term.

Right now I'm at my last night of IST (in-service training) in Windhoek. Although the ten days with my friends has been a great way to push aside some of the frustrations from this term (especially the last two weeks of exams and marking and report card-writing), I'm honestly not leaving with a significantly more positive outlook than I had before. I feel more confident about taking steps to do something about the things that are bothering me, but I also feel incredibly stupid for letting things go like this for so long before speaking up and daunted by how much back-tracking I'm going to have to do now.

Even as I write this, I'm having second thoughts about whether I want to put this out there, where it's ultimately going to serve as a reminder of a rocky first quarter I'd much rather forget. I've been avoiding my journal like the plague since October for that very reason - if I don't write it down, I can pretend it's not happening. I guess my hope is that admitting, in a semi-permanent format, that I've hit (or am damn close to) rock bottom will make it easier for me to hold onto the conviction that I do have to do something.

So there you have it, the best explanation I've got for my prolonged silence. Hopefully next time I'll have something more positive to say.

"It's simply amazing, the treasures one finds in one's attic."

2010-01-23T18:29:00.004-06:00

So I moved out of the family's house and into my own flat last weekend, and spent most of Saturday and Sunday cleaning and attempting to organize the place. Here's what I found:

1 flask, which was apparently left for Milan by Pat due to a leak. I may be so classy as to repair it with duct tape.
1 pair men's briefs, found folded in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.
1 unused tampon, still in wrapper, also found in the cabinet under the kitchen sink.
5 keys (and counting), none of which actually unlock any of the locks in the house.

Don't get me wrong: homestay was a great experience for me and I really enjoyed my time staying with the family. That being said...having all that space all to myself is just glorious. I come home after non-stop days at school to peace and quiet (well, relative peace and quiet - there's usually some noise at the hostel across the yard). I can leave my stuff all over the place and nobody cares. I get to cook my own meals, which was admittedly a somewhat terrifying prospect at first. (Having perishable food items to mix it up a little will be welcome.) I've finally got a decent-sized workspace (as opposed to no workspace).

I promise I'll try to post some pictures of the place when I get back to The Farm.

Internet! Pictures!

2009-12-21T04:30:00.007-06:00

In lieu of actually having anything interesting to say, I'll let my pictures do most of the talking for me. More posted (including some from PST and Swearing In) on my Flickr site.

This is where I live. Well, not literally - this is the road between my house and the school. The clouds were particularly spectacular when I took this picture, but the sky is always this big.

This is my library. There is a family of lizards living in the closet in the corner. I am letting them stay for now because they eat the bugs. We actually have a lot more books than you can see in the picture - I'm in the middle of reorganizing the stock and had about 1/4 of them off the shelves when I took this picture.
The smaller bookshelves under the windows will eventually hold our non-fiction books...assuming I can ever finish organizing, recording and contact paper-ing all the books...

Lake Oanob, site of our end-of-year staff party. (It was a braai, of course.)

Your Headquarters for Namibian Election News

2009-11-29T18:18:00.004-06:00

OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS THE ELECTIONS WERE TERRIBLE AND VIOLENT. THERE WERE BURNING COUCHES AND TEAR GAS EVERYWHERE. THINGS ARE SO BAD IN NAMIBIA THAT BOTSWANA, ZAMBIA AND SOUTH AFRICA ALSO COLLAPSED AND THE ONLY PLACE THE PEACE CORPS COULD EVACUATE US TO WAS ZIMBABWE. I'M IN HARARE NOW.

Haha, just kidding. So far. There's still a whole week until results get announced! Literally anything could happen!

I spent the election weekend braving the mean streets of Windhoek, and even in the capital, the evidence that this was the country in the throes of an election was limited. After spending Saturday morning watching election coverage on NBC (who didn't have any sweet maps or holographic reporters, btw), I had kind of hoped to get a passing glance at a polling station as we drove around town making turns. And I did, it just wasn't at all like on TV: no lines, few signs, and only a handful of security personnel here and there. All of the lampposts on Independence Avenue and Mugabe Street were adorned with campaign posters (and also Christmas lights); I saw billboards for SWAPO (no surprise there), RDP and Congress of Democrats (CoD), whose claim to fame is that they are the only “zebra party” (i.e. the only party who alternated men and women on their National Assembly list).

Since NBC's coverage of the election wasn't terribly exciting (even if I hadn't been spoiled by the last U.S. presidential election, I suspect I would still say that), I spent a fair chunk of the weekend reading election news and analysis, mostly on allAfrica.com, which is a pretty fantastic site.

Here are links to a couple of articles I really enjoyed:

“The Pathology of Power and Paranoia”: I read this article and immediately wished I was back in class at Madison. (Actually, that's kind of how I've felt for the last couple of weeks as election coverage has heated up. Sometimes I really miss critical thinking...or even regular thinking...) A fantastic look at how the political machine works in this country – and furthermore, why it works the way it does.

“After SWAPO-RDP Tension, We Need to Work on Tolerance”: Amazing article by Gwen Lister (editor of The Namibian, who has recently taken a lot of flak for publishing articles critical of SWAPO) that I think is every bit as applicable to American politics as to Namibian.

“Worst Case Scenario About Tribalism and Race”: This article provides a lot of insight into just why the formation of opposition parties in Namibia has been so slow and why their success has been so limited up to this point.

There are also a couple of more news-oriented reports up about the climate at the polling stations and about NBC's election coverage that are well worth reading. Enjoy! And tell me what you think!

I am probably not Rachel, but I am DEFINITELY not Milan

2009-11-29T18:15:00.000-06:00

My poor NamFam is in the midst of an identity crisis, except the identity that is giving them grief is mine.

It all started way back in September, when I first arrived at The Farm for site visit. The previous American volunteer teacher at the primary school was a young lady by the name of Rachel (if you are an adult) or Miss S. (if you are a child), and for most of that week, that was how most people – even those to whom I had been personally introduced – addressed me. I have seen pictures of Rachel that were taken during her stay here; that we are both young, white females is as far as our physical resemblance goes. However, given that I literally stepped into her NamLife, I can understand why there was some confusion. It took me about 3 days before I got used to responding to “Rachel!” or “Miss S!”, but once I did, I quickly fell into a pattern of acknowledging the speaker, correcting them with the appropriate form of my name, and moving on. No need to harp on it or get upset, they will figure it out eventually.

The ability of my community members to recall my actual name has improved significantly since I moved back to The Farm for good. I think that to some extent, it helps that the learners in my class address me simply as “Miss” or “Teacher” - whether this is normal or a practical adjustment to avoid having to recall precisely which teacher I am, I'm not entirely certain, but hey, the shoe fits.

(Actually, very recently my learners have started to address me as “Juffrou,” which is the Afrikaans word for “Miss,” a move that I think started out as part of a ploy to confuse me by making requests in Afrikaans instead of English. I have deliberately avoided letting the learners find out exactly how much Afrikaans I understand because the looks of terror and confusion on their faces when I respond to the comments they think I can't understand is more awesome than you can possibly imagine.)

In the last week we've had a slight setback, name-wise. (Town-wide exam-induced brain drain? I don't know.) “Rachel, come eat!” Auntie Tina has been yelling from the kitchen. “Rachel's not here, but can I have dinner?” I reply. “Rachel, can you take pictures at the award ceremony on Saturday?” “Yes I can, but I'm Liz, not Rachel.” As I cross the school yard to my classroom, one learner will inevitably call out to me “Good morning Miss S!” And then, “Ouch!” (as they are hit by one of their peers who probably made the same mistake yesterday) “ay, sorry, Miss Wise!”

...and then, there was this weekend. My family drove up to Windhoek on Friday after school, since we were having Milan's going away party that evening, stopping along the way to collect American and Namibian friends in Rehoboth. At the house, we all pitched in to make a huge dinner (really, it was unofficial Hardap Thanksgiving), and as I was helping one of the other Volunteers chop vegetables for the salad (American salad, not NamSalad – no mayonnaise here), my aunt looks at me from across the counter and says to my face, “Milan, bring that here.”
I was less than thrilled. And my degree of thrilled-ness did not increase when, during the course of the evening, two other family members – both of whom were completely sober – also called me Milan, also while looking directly at my face.

Um, let's compare. Milan: 6'3” (ballpark estimate). Half Nepali. Wears glasses. MALE. Liz: 5'7”. Unmistakeably white (albeit with a sweet farmer tan). No glasses, visible scars, peg leg, or any other real distinguishing features. FEMALE.

They can call me Rachel until the cows come home, and I will correct them (more or less) politely. If they call me Rachel, there is an outside chance that they are calling me by the correct name. But people, please. I AM NOT MILAN.

I have joked that I should just wear a name tag around town, but I'm not sure what more I can do to impress upon people that although I am not Rachel, I am a female. Discard all my pants in favor of skirts? Trade in my Keens for heels? Start wearing makeup and styling my hair again? Suggestions welcome.

T-Day 2009

2009-11-26T18:11:00.001-06:00

Happy Danks-giving everyone! (And happy birthday to Jennifer!) Please enjoy a couple of new blog posts (two from today, one from last week) as well as a handful of new pictures on my Flickr site (the link is in the left sidebar) from our school's merit awards last weekend.

SMS from Tracey: So, dare I ask? What are you Nam-thankful for?

My freakin' awesome host family. Life with them is hardly ever boring, and when it is, it's okay, because frankly I need the downtime to recuperate.
The Dirty 30.
Nescafe, which makes it possible for me to actually start work at 7 AM five mornings a week.
Afternoon naps, which make it possible for me to actually stay awake until 9:30 PM.
Fantastic care packages from home!
Lorenzo's Wife.
Exams, which provide me with a much needed break from Grade 5 (and they from me, I suspect). I have a much better attitude about some of those kids when I don't have to see them for 3 hours every day...
The prevalence of carbohydrates in the Namibian diet. Mmm, roosterbrood...
Electricity, indoor plumbing, and hot water.

Election Eve 2009

2009-11-26T18:07:00.001-06:00

As I'm sure you are all aware, because it has undoubtedly been all over the major U.S. newspapers, tomorrow the first day of voting for the 2009 presidential and parliamentary elections here in Namibia. So far, no indication that the country is going to go up in flames, through the combination of elections and my association, but fear not, there's still time.

(Kidding. Sort of. You've all seen the evidence.)

As you may remember, this election is really significant for two reasons. One, this is the first election wherein the “Born Frees” - Namibians born after independence in 1990 – are eligible to vote, and there's a lot of speculation about how the youth voice will (or will not, jury's still out) change the face of government in Namibia, which hasn't changed much in 19 years. (This not a criticism, it's a fact; there are quite a few ministers and MPs who have been serving in the government since independence.) Two, this is the first election where parties other than the ruling party, SWAPO (South West African People's Organization), are predicted to make any kind of substantial showing at the polls. RDP, which is the primary opposition party, apparently did very well the U.S. overseas voting (which I think was mostly embassy and consular personnel), and it'll be interesting to see if that victory will boost the party in the polls here or if it'll just drive SWAPO supporters out in greater force.

I would say that the time leading up to this year's elections has been a really interesting time to be living in Namibia, but of course, election preparation has been in full swing (not quite as full as the 2008 U.S. elections, certainly, but at least Nam-full) since I first arrived here back in late August. I don't really know a Namibia that isn't busy gearing up to elect their entire government, but the Namibia that I do know is hugely focused on this event. Every other commercial on TV is for something election related; back in September it was for voter registration, in late September it was to announce the election dates, and since then it's been reminders to a) get out and vote, and b) do it without having any sort of rioting. The latest ad, which came out about a week ago, is this easy-listening type song playing over images of various Namibian landscapes and people dressed in green, blue and red (the colors of the Namibian flag, also the SWAPO colors), I personally think it's a little hokey, but nobody asked me.

Since moving to The Farm, I've been getting most of my information about the elections (and everything else for that matter) from NBC (that's Namibian Broadcasting Company), given that we lack newspapers and radio coverage out here. It's a less-than-ideal situation. Although NBC isn't a state-run channel, to say that it's completely independent journalism would also be something of a stretch. There's a definite bias towards SWAPO, but their coverage of other parties has been fair, if not extensive. I've also been reading The Namibian sporadically on my cell phone; they had a series recently where they profiled the different parties' platforms on various issues. It was kind of like hearing party platforms in the U.S.; everyone's in favor of things that are generally good for society, against things that are generally bad for society, and nobody has any tangible plans to maximize the good and minimize the bad.

There have been two SWAPO rallies in recent weeks in the field across the river from my house, both of which were pretty well attended – I'd say at least 100 people at each, which in a town of 1500 is pretty substantial – and pretty tame as well. (I actually didn't even realize the first one was a political event until I heard people cheering “Viva SWAPO!”) I'm under the impression that the majority of my community supports, or at least accepts, the SWAPO government, although we do have some fairly vocal critics around town as well. Even when I was living in Okahandja, though, I didn't find the political campaigning to be particularly aggressive, in stark contrast to the lead-up to elections in the U.S. I have heard reports that RDP supporters have been attacked and rallies broken up, often violently, up north in the Oumsati region (which is where the current president is from), which is really upsetting and kind of scary for my fellow Volunteers serving there.

Stay tuned for more election news!

Gems from Grade 5

2009-11-18T18:03:00.000-06:00

Assignment: After reading Shel Silverstein's poem “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout,” complete a dialogue between Sarah and her father.

On this assignment, about half the learners just copied lines from the poem into their dialogue (guess we're working on that in next year's English classes), but those who actually tried to write something semi-original got reasonably creative. Oh, and by the way – in Afrikaans, “stout” means “naughty,” which the learners thought was very fitting.

Sarah: No, I will not take the garbage out.
Mr. Stout: Fine, let it be then, let the whole world [drown] in garbage!
- female learner

Sarah: Dad, I will not take the garbage out.
Mr. Stout: You must take the garbage out or I will beat you with the broom.
- female learner

Sarah: No, I will not do it.
Mr. Stout: Sarah [,] you must take the garbage out, or I will banish you!
- male learner
(I think he meant “I will punish you,” though I guess “banish” works too.)

Mr. Stout: Sarah, you must take the garbage out.
Sarah: No, I will not. You take it out.
Mr. Stout: No, I am not your kid! You must take it out!
- female learner

Assignment: Read the passage (about a ceremony to bring rain) and answer the questions that follow.

Question: How do you know the ceremony was successful?
Answer: Because I read the paragraph.

This Namibian Life

2009-11-09T18:06:00.002-06:00

Friday
While rummaging in the refrigerator for milk on Friday morning, I stumbled upon a sheep head, feet, and various innards in a plastic bowl. By this point, finding sheep heads places other than attached to sheep is not really unusual; I would venture to guess that at any given time, the proportion of Namibian refrigerators that contain at least one sheep head is probably pretty high. The procedure for dealing with such discoveries past one's first month in Namibia is straightforward: move the sheep head, along with the accompanying receptacle for catching sheep-head drippings, out of your way and continue your search for more familiar food products.

What was unusual was the question that my 73-year-old host aunt, Auntie Tina, posed to me at lunch that afternoon. “Liz,” she asked me, “are you game for smiley tonight?”

“Am I game for smiley tonight?” Am I game for smiley tonight? As I sat there, with my entire family looking expectantly at me, two questions entered my mind. Who or what is smiley, and where did Auntie Tina learn to use “game” as a verb?

And then Sai, my 13-year-old host brother, pointed to the bowl of sheep parts, now sitting on the counter next to the sink, and an entirely different question popped into my head. Am I game for smiley tonight?

Oh boy.

I was torn between my desire to be open to new experiences and my lack of desire to eat a sheep's head (or feet, or intestines), and so I took a moment to try and formulate an appropriate answer, all eyes still on me. Okay. On the one hand, this family is by now very much accustomed to having Americans come to stay – I'm the third Peace Corps Volunteer at The Farm – but even taking that fact into consideration, it still seems rude to vocalize my gut reaction to the proposed menu. What do I do? How do I walk the fine line between being culturally sensitive and not finding a boiled sheep head staring up at me during dinner tonight?

An eternity later, I managed to come up with what I felt was a pretty diplomatic response. “Okay,” I told them, “I think it's important for me to try new things while I'm here. So yes, I am game for smiley. But you all have to promise me one thing: that you won't tell me what part of the sheep I'm eating until I've decided whether I like it or not.” They agreed that this was fair, and I, somewhat laboriously, finished my non-sheep-based lunch while trying not to listen to Sai's description of the various intestines that would be a part of the evening meal.

Friday Night
It's about time they introduced an elaborate murder plotline to Lorenzo's Wife. And here I was thinking that the heyday of soap operas ended when Passions got canceled. (Isn't that the one where the one lady – Marlena, I think was her name? - was a serial killer, but for some reason nobody in town could figure it out? And with the witches? And those two brothers who never knew which of them was the father of someone's baby?)

I am not going to lie to you, there are many weekdays where knowing that I have a new episode of Lorenzo's Wife waiting for me is the only thing that gets me through the day. When I'm short on patience with my learners, it's nice to be able to picture myself at home, parked in front of the television in my sweatpants, enjoying the mindlessness of Mexican telenovelas rebroadcast in English by the fine people of the Namibian Broadcasting Company. Maybe throw in a glass of South African boxed wine just for good measure. Is it sad that this is my happy place? Maybe a little.

On Friday, though, I could not muster up my usual enthusiasm for the Oscar-worthy (or maybe Desi-worthy?) acting, compelling dialogue (it's like something George Lucas wrote), or subtle camera work that defines the show. Because I knew that when the credits rolled at 8 PM, I would have to go into the kitchen and eat dinner with the family, and that dinner would contain things that I still was not entirely convinced were edible.

Time had no consideration for my concerns, however, and the end of Isabella's antics, Laura's deciet and Natty's naivete rolled around as it always does. Fortunately for me, our guests for the weekend – Manie's cousins from Windhoek – hadn't arrived yet, and so I still had time to reflect on my life prior to when I ate a sheep's head (or feet, or intestines). Unfortunately for me, I was starving, as I usually am by the time we sit down for dinner just after 8 PM, and I found myself deeply regretting my failure to smuggle a couple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into my room. You know, just in case.

The family showed up around 9, and we sat down to dinner shortly thereafter. Sai said grace. We passed around the roosterbrood. (If a more delicious bread product exists on this earth, I don't want to know about it.) We passed around the potatoes. And then there was the afall, head and all. I scooped myself a small, bony portion and passed the dish on. Bite of potato. Bite of roosterbrood. Sip of wine. And then there was nothing left to do but try the sheep.

This would be a much more interesting story if it ended with some sort of superlative, but it doesn't. That sheep part (which I learned the next day was the foot) was not the worst thing I ever ate, but it was far from the most delicious thing. There wasn't any distinctive taste to the meat itself, beyond the spices in which Auntie Tina had prepared it. It was a little chewy, but not offensively so. Really, the biggest issue that I had with it was that for the amount of work it took to get the meat off the bones, it just wasn't really worth it.

They asked me how it was. “It's good,” I replied, trying to sound neutral. I think that not looking like I wanted to die helped my credibility, but it was clear that they expected me to elaborate. “I mean, I like the spices on the meat. The texture is fine. It's just weird for me to think about where it came from, since we don't eat these parts of the animal in the United States. That's all. It's a psychological thing.”

Apparently that was satisfactory, because nobody made any jokes about me needing to have a second helping, or said anything when I ate three pieces of roosterbrood.

Saturday
I don't know why I thought that after Friday's dinner, the sheep-centered portion of my weekend would be over. As it turned out, Friday was only the beginning.

We got up at 6 AM on Saturday, drank about a gallon of coffee each (except Sai, obviously), and jumped in the bakkie to go out to the farm. This is not to be confused with The Farm where I live, which is “the farm” for people from the city (such as it were). For those of us who actually live on The Farm, there is an entirely different level of farm 20 km away, the level of farm where there are actually (live) sheep and goats, and in our case, cows. (The cows belong to Manie's sister, Ousie, who – if what I have heard is accurate – got them as part of a legal settlement.)

Sai had told me on Friday that we were going to “move sheep,” which at the time I did not understand at all, but then again I don't understand Sai 80% of the time, even when he's speaking English. And that's not because his English is bad – it's quite good, really – it's because he's 13 and regularly says things that make little to no sense. Manie explained it in a way that I could actually understand: because the main road (such as it were) to all the area farms (lowercase farms) cuts right past their farm, in the past they've had trouble with animals getting stolen. So we were literally going out to the farm (lowercase) to move the sheep, goats and cows to another part of the farm where they'd be more secure.

This was my second trip out to this part of the farm – we went mid-week when I was here for site visit back in September – and it was pretty much the same as the first time. Manie talked to the farmhands, Sai chased some goats, and I watched sheep got stuck in the fence.

(Question from Mom: Are sheep in fact the dumb and generally irredeemable creatures portrayed in Bellweather [my second-favorite Connie Willis novel] or just mildly retarded as in Babe? Answer: These sheep can barely muster the collective intelligence to get out of their pen when we open the gate and chase them out, let alone to storm Management and eat Romantic Bride Barbie. Connie Willis gave the species WAY too much credit. And they are certainly not smart enough to come up with a secret password.)

So we chased the sheep and their slightly-more-intelligent goat cousins out of the pen, jumped back in the truck and drove out to the main farm. Truly, I have no idea how the animals managed to find us there that afternoon – the evidence is strongly against them being able to figure out the way – but find us they did.

The main farm consists of a couple of small outbuildings – storage sheds, a cold room, and a few others that I don't know the function of – and the farmhouse itself, which though small could comfortably sleep at least 10 people. When we got there, Manie's cousin Boetie and a few other guys (who may work at the farm, I'm not certain) were already working on carving up the first of approximately a dozen sheep we would slaughter that day.

I use the term “we” loosely; I myself did not do any slaughtering. Honestly, what I mostly did was make coffee (according to the precise Nescafe to sugar to milk ratio specified by each family member) and record the weights of each sheep carcass. It's not that I was completely horrified by the whole process; on the contrary, it was actually much less shocking than I originally thought I'd find it. It was more that these people have all been doing this sort of thing for years now – most for longer than I've been alive – and they really have it down to a science.
The guys would go out to the sheep pen and bring an animal into the main yard. One or two people would hold down the sheep while a someone else cut the neck; this is important, because those things do an awful lot of writhing around while they are being disposed of. (And in some cases, even after they've been disposed of, we had a few that were still doing quite a bit of moving on the table.) After the skin was removed (Namibian sheep aren't woolly), the carcass would be hung on a frame and its guts would be removed before weighing. (I did help out with this portion by weighing, recording and tagging all the carcasses.) Once weighed, the rest of the butchering would be done before the carcass was moved to the cold room and the whole process started over with a new animal.

Meanwhile, there was another table where the rest of the family worked with the guts. In my opinion, this was the worst part of the process, since it entailed removing the contents of the stomach and intestines so that those parts could eventually be cooked and eaten. We probably filled at least 5 wheelbarrows with partially- and fully-digested material. It smelled like a manure factory, which is more or less what it was, and at one point fairly early on, when Auntie Tina was working with some or another intestine, she accidentally squirted its contents all over me. Gross.

After I came back from washing up, Mariana advised me not to fall in love with a Baster because if I do, I will have to prove to my future mother-in-law that I know how to properly butcher a sheep. Good to know.

Lunch consisted of a variety of grilled intestines, along with – thank goodness – ribs and leftover roosterbrood from the night before. I will say that coated in braai spices and cooked to crispiness, sheep innards are not so bad; of the four different internal organs I sampled, there was only one (an intestine, but that's as specific as I can be) that I would flat out decline to eat again. Too chewy.

By the time we left the farm just before 4 PM I was exhausted, and I hadn't even done that much (beyond making 9000 cups of coffee). Auntie Tina and I got dropped off at our house, where I went straight to my room for a shower and a nap, while everyone else went to Ousie's dad's house to slaughter 2 goats. Because apparently there hadn't been enough slaughtering already.

Sunday
On Sunday morning I awoke (at 7:30, thank you Namibia for destroying my ability to sleep in) to find the whole family in our kitchen butchering a whole goat carcass on the table.

I got my coffee and excused myself to go watch CNN. There's only so many dead farm animals a gal can take in one weekend.

The Beginning of Everything Else

2009-10-28T19:14:00.001-05:00

Last week was my first week at site. I am not going to lie to you, it was terrible. I didn't cry every day (just most of them), but I did think about quitting every day. Usually multiple times. When the dog started barking at 5:30 AM, I would wake up and think about quitting. When my alarm went off at 6:05 AM, I would think about quitting. While I was drinking my coffee and eating my Weet-Bix, I would think about quitting. While people prayed six times a day*, I would close my eyes and fold my hands and think about quitting.

But most of all, I thought about quitting every time I yelled at my fifth grade class, which is pretty much all I did that first week.

I am 95% certain that all the problems I have with my fifth graders stem from the fact that they have spent this entire year being taught by a succession of relief teachers and foreign volunteers, for some of whom bribery was a key component of the classroom management strategy. They are perplexed as to why I do not bring them candy every day or let them watch movies and play games in every class. I am perplexed as to why they do not know the multiplication tables or how to use high-frequency verbs (like “go” or “do”) correctly in the past tense**.

Mercifully, I do not have any students with serious behavior problems, although sometimes I wonder if that might not be preferable. If I had a class of 23 students, with one or two on the extreme end of the misbehavior spectrum, I could (at least in theory) deal primarily with those one or two students, secure in the knowledge that the others wouldn't significantly compound my discipline problems. But I don't have one or two bad apples out of a bunch, I have 23 students who all have a tendency towards moderate misbehavior – and en masse, the effect is overwhelming. They chatter all through class, even when I tell them to be quiet. They steal their classmates' pencils, not because they don't have their own, just because they can. They smack each other with rulers in retribution. They tattle – oh my word, do they tattle.

The ruler-smackers tattle on the pencil-stealers, the pencil-stealers tattle on the ruler-smackers, and the students sitting in the immediate vicinity tattle on both the ruler-smacker and the pencil-stealer for making noise. They yell at each other in Afrikaans (or sometimes in Khoekhoegowab) and then tattle on one another not only for being loud and mean, but also for not speaking English. They tattle on one another for things that happen in the schoolyard during breaks (which have the potential to be issues that demand an appeal to authority, but in practice rarely are), for things that happen in other classes, and for transgressions that occurred months before I even arrived in Namibia. They tattle for things that aren't even tattleable offenses; today I had a girl tattle multiple times on a classmate for mispronouncing the name “Joel” in an English exercise. (And yes, I've checked – there is no permutation of “Joel” in Afrikaans that could possibly construed as inappropriate for classroom use.)

I have tried everything I know how to do, plus some things I read on the internet. Last week, my approach to tattling was to try and infuse reason into the situation by asking the tattler if the offense they wished to report was really damaging their well-being in class. (As in, oh, Johannes is speaking Khoekhoe? Given that you do not understand Khoekhoe, is that really distracting you from doing your work?) I do not know what on Earth made me believe that fifth graders would respond to reason. The Mefloquine must be destroying my brain much more rapidly than originally predicted.

Luckily, my mom came to the rescue with this website about elementary classroom management, and with the exception of the mysterious “Joel” incident this afternoon, the outrageous tattling has more or less come to a halt this week. My new approach involves responding to anything that does not really merit a response (“Teacher, he is writing with a pen!”) by saying “Thank you for letting me know,” and then moving on with whatever I was doing before the interruption occurred. For offenses that I have already responded to a thousand times before (such as pencil-stealing and ruler-smacking, recently expanded to include gum-chewing), I refer them to the posted classroom rules and their prohibitions against these actions. (Rules No. 4, 5, and 8, for the record, and that's actually how I respond. “Teacher, Lusin hit me with a ruler!” “Lusin, Rule 5.”) Tattles that may reveal more serious underlying problems (“Teacher, he was teasing me during break!”) get follow up questions.

Unfortunately, getting control of the tattling situation is only the tip of the iceberg. Monday and Tuesday of this week were good days, according to my new, significantly lower standards for what constitutes a “good day” in the fifth grade, but today they demanded a game as soon as they walked in the door for second period. I said, “We must do our work first,” and I think that was where I lost the battle. They consented to work on the Afrikaans assignments Manie gave them to complete in his absence (he had to be in Mariental today) after I pointed out that all of us, including me, would get in trouble if they did not do their work (one girl said “Yes, you will be beaten.”), but my refusal to devote four periods of English and maths to games? Unthinkable!

(Have I mentioned that Grade 5 has to write a national exam in English and maths in 3 weeks, the results of which will be submitted to the World Bank [or something like that] for their use in reassessing educational funding for Namibia? Or that a failing grade in English – even if the student passes all other subjects – is enough to hold that student back a year?)

I admit that before last week, I did not believe in self-doubt as part of this experience. Even when things sucked in training, as they sometimes did, the possibility that I might not ultimately succeed and thrive in this environment...well, it wasn't a possibility. The challenges that I faced in PST were ones that required me to work harder at things I was already vaguely aware of how to do – study harder, ask more questions, reflect more on the situations in which I found myself. I never had to reinvent the wheel during training, which is partially a credit to how Peace Corps training is set up. They give you more wheels than you know what to do with, more than you could possibly use in just eight weeks.

And now I'm here, and I'm an old clunker sitting on cinder blocks in a trailer park. I'm not just dealing with a lack of wheels here, I have so many problems I hardly know where to start. During PST, I looked at the Volunteers who had gone before me – not just here, and not just the ones I know, but all of them in all the countries in all the world – and said, “Well, if they could do it, I can too.” And now that I'm here, all I can think is “What the f...how did they do this, and how am I to be expected to do it? Are you people completely insane? WHAT AM I DOING HERE?” It's not a good feeling, and I truly believe that my stubbornness is the primary – some days, the sole – reason that I am still here right now.

But dammit, I am determined that I will not be driven out of the Peace Corps, after over a year of waiting, by a bunch of fifth graders. No freakin' way. Either they've got to get better, or I do. And thus far, they haven't proven themselves to be a safe bet. So back to work I go.

*Before you even ask: yes, we are a public school, and yes, this is cool with everyone involved. I am aware of the existence of no less than six churches here at The Farm (pop. 1500), and would not be entirely surprised to find that there are more of them lurking around.

**Reminder: Namibian schools are mother-tongue (or prevailing-area-tongue) medium for Grades 1-4, with English taught as a second language throughout. Beginning in Grade 5, the medium of instruction for all subjects switches to English and students study the mother-tongue in much the same way that students in the U.S. study English in school. But it's not totally a language problem; my kids don't know that “five times five is twenty-five,” but they don't know that “5 x 5 = 25” either.

This is the Beginning

2009-10-19T19:11:00.003-05:00

Congratulations Peace Corps Namibia Group 30 (aka The Dirty Thirty). We did it!

(I promise more pictures and a real update later this week - I am exhausted after the first day of school!)

Open Letters

2009-10-09T19:17:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. President,

Congratulations on receiving the Nobel Peace Prize. It would be fitting if you were to use the momentum from this honor to push for increased funding for the Peace Corps...just sayin'.

Sincerely,
Liz Wise
(Who is seven days away from becoming a real Peace Corps Volunteer!)

Dear Karen, Ryan and Tara,

Thank you for the fantastic care package! I loved the photos and letters, and I'm really excited to work on the friendship bracelets with the kids in my community.

Lots of love,
Liz

Dear Random Namibian Person Who Keeps SMSing Me,

Here's what I propose: you stop sending me 40 text messages per day, and I will tell all the women in my training class to stop giving your number to creepy men in Okahandja. Sound like a fair trade?

No Love,
Liz

Dear Women of Peace Corps/Namibia,

Until the conditions set in the previous letter are fulfilled, please feel free to contact me if you're in need of a fake phone number to give out to creepy men in your local area.

Solidarity, sisters.

- Liz, Group 30

Updated Address!

2009-10-06T19:42:00.001-05:00

Here's my new address, to which you can start sending mail as soon as you want to! (It probably won't get there any sooner than I will!) If there's something on it's way to me at the Peace Corps office address, it's still got 3.5 weeks to get here; letters that arrive there for me after I swear in will be forwarded to me, packages I'll be able to pick up.

Elizabeth Wise, PCV
PO Box 4562
Rehoboth
Namibia

If you are thinking of sending me a package at my new address, I would encourage you to do so no later than the first week of November to ensure that it gets to me intact and in a timely manner. All of our mail comes in via Johannesburg, and service from to Windhoek tends to slow down around the holidays, making packages left sitting in offices or shipping centers more likely to be tampered with. Letters don't run the same risk, and will be every bit as much appreciated!

Things I'd love to receive if you're thinking of sending a package: books, single-serving drink mix packets (the water at The Farm is safe to drink, but hardly tasty), any candy that won't melt, books, magazines (news, entertainment, whatever), movies/music (even better if they can be copied to share)...did I mention books?

Hoezit?

2009-10-06T19:26:00.004-05:00

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Integration and inactivity are the enemies of regular blog updates. I'm not sure that I can claim to have hit that first mark just yet – although I am using little meaningless Afrikaans phrases such as “Izit?” (which is not quite the Afrikaans equivalent of “yanni” or “mumkin,” but is equally devoid of any real communicative function) like a pro – but the level of activity that would even be remotely interesting to people not part of PC/Namibia Group 30 has basically come to a complete halt.

To illustrate: the highlight of last week was when my friend Nikki got not one, not two, but THREE GIGANTIC care packages ON THE SAME DAY, and one of them contained boxed hummus mix. (And also Larbars, which are probably the most delicious bar-food product ever created by man.) And we went to her house and ate said hummus with carrots and she gave me a box of it to take home with me and it was ridiculously exciting.

Rest assured that with swearing in and the move to site on the horizon (just 10 days!), I am sure that I will have some good stories to share over the next few weeks. In the meantime, enjoy some brief updates from life here in Namibia...

...and then there were 32

Group 30 had some sad news the week after site visit, when one of our members announced her decision to return to the United States. We have really felt Amy's absence over the past two weeks and will continue to do so as we wrap up training and prepare for swearing in. Amy, thanks for being my travel buddy and co-dishwasher extraordinaire, and know that you are loved and missed very much here in Okahandja! I will think of of you every time I eat KFC...or hot browns, if those make an appearance in Namibian cuisine during the next two years.

...just wait 5 minutes.

The more time I spend here in Namibia, the more I am convinced that it is kind of like what the Midwest would be like if the Midwest relocated to Africa; this is particularly apparent when it comes to the weather. Much like in the places where I grew up, the weather in Namibia is rather unpredictable, and it is difficult for Namibians to agree on what "typical" weather for any given season looks like. For example, I had initially been given to understand that the rainy season began in November and lasted throughout the southern hemisphere summer. Not so; the first week back from site visit it rained almost every day and was gloomy and overcast whenever rain wasn't falling. And thus the tune changed. "Oh yeah," the Namibians told us, "it's totally normal for it to start raining in late September. Hope you brought an umbrella."

And with that note, we had a week of blue skies and warm breezes, followed by one of the most spectacular thunderstorms I've ever seen in my life. Since then, the skies have been clear, but now it's the temperature that's starting to get a little screwy: mornings are back to being a little chilly, but the afternoons are ridiculously hot, especially with 40 or so of us sitting, sweltering, around the main hall at the Kukuri Center all afternoon. We've now got the same trainers who assured us on the 90F days in September that it wouldn't get much hotter than this telling us "just wait until November," as we refill our water bottles for the eighteenth time and fold our handouts into fans. "But wait," they qualify, "you're going to Hardap, never mind, don't worry. It doesn't get that hot there." "No," counters the person from Hardap region, "it is much hotter in Hardap than it is in Owamboland." "Uh-uh, no way. You have never lived in the north in the summer. Oh my word!" And so on, and so forth. (Or as they would say, "And what, what, what.")

...wait, really?

I very much appreciate everyone who emailed or Facebook messaged me about the Afrikaans rant I posted after site visit; I'm happy to report that Afrikaans and I are in a much better place now than we were two weeks ago. (Although I do have to say that my mid-training language proficiency exam was NOT a fun experience – I cried afterwords, which I only mention because I'm really proud that I didn't cry during the test – but I ended up doing pretty well [Intermediate Low on the ACTFL scale, if that means anything to you] on it, and upon review of the tape, it wasn't nearly as bad as I'd built it up to be in my head.) There are definitely some very ridiculous aspects of the language, and of the particular language-learning process that my fellow trainees and I are currently undergoing, that have become very apparent to me recently.

The first is just how unattractive a language Afrikaans is when spoken by non-native speakers. (And even occasionally by native or near-native speakers.) Like its cousins, German and Dutch, Afrikaans uses the gutteral "g" – the one that sounds like you are hacking up a lung – in many of its organic words. This is not a pleasant sound, but it is exponentially more unpleasant in words where it appears more than once. The word "smile," for example, is "glimlag" in Afrikaans, which actually sounds something like "[hack]limla[hack]." Similarly, "happy" is rendered as "gelukkig," or rather, "[hack]lukki[hack]." This particular word makes "Happy Birthday," a song that when translated already suffers from having way too many syllables squeezed into not nearly enough space, one of the most cacophanous tunes ever. (Though to be fair, our Afrikaans class' vocal shortcomings don't help much. Lauren, I'm sorry that we subjected you to that on your special day. Twice.)

Sometimes – and by sometimes, I mean almost every day – the other languages call us out on not being hardcore, on account of Afrikaans' many resemblances to English. To some extent, they are correct. We do not have noun classes, or concords, and we definitely do not have any clicks. (Can I get a hallelujah?) However, in spite of the knowledge that we do have it easier than a lot of the other language groups, we in Afrikaans do not like it when people remind us of this. It's like talking smack about your own family; you can do it, but you better not catch anyone else doing it or there will be hell to pay. After last week's lesson on vocabulary in the home, though, I think we collectively need to reconsider this attitude.

J.J.: [referring to a dining room] Hoe naam ons dit? (What do we call this?)
Me: [shrugs] Ek ken nie. 'n Eet-kamer. (I don't know. An eat-room.)
J.J.: Ja! Dit is die eetkamer! (Yes! This is the dining room!)

Johanna: [referring to a wardrobe] Wat is dit? (What is this?)
Dasha: Dit is 'n kas. (That is a cabinet.)
Johanna: Nie, dit is nie 'n kas nie. (No, this is not a cabinet.)
Dasha: Dit is 'n...hang-kas. (That is a..."hang"-cabinet.)
Johanna: Ja! Dit is 'n hangkas! (Yes! That is a wardrobe!)

...huh?

Truly, the language-learning process does not stop when we're dismissed from Afrikaans class every day at 1 PM (after FOUR HOURS), because even though we're walking out into an environment where English is the medium of communication...well, let's not forget that this is Namibia. I'd heard tell of the linguistic phenomenon that is Namlish prior to my arrival in the Land of the Brave, but Namlish is so much more than English spoken by non-native (often multilingual) speakers. So, so much more. Namlish is literally what you would see if you could put Namibia into a little room and observe it through a one-way mirror for about a week. This language, such as it were, is so fitting for what life here is like, it's unbelievable.

"Izit?" (which literally means "Is it so?" – like I said, it doesn't really serve much actual purpose in a sentence) is really just the tip of the iceberg. My latest favorite Namlish turn of phrase is the tendency to end every utterance with "nay?" Remember Alyson Hannigan's character from American Pie, who ended every sentence with rising intonation, such that it always sounded like she was asking a question? It's kind of like that. Ma and I had an exchange on Sunday afternoon as she and Pa were leaving to go to her brother's house for a while:

Ma: Liz, you must lock the door.
Me: Okay, Ma.
Ma: Adriaan [my 16-year-old host brother] will be home later, nay?
Me: Are you asking me if he'll be home later, or are you telling me that he'll be home later?
Ma: Yes.

AND THAT'S THE OTHER THING. This happens to me EVERY SINGLE DAY, and every time it happens around other Americans, they say "You brought this upon yourself. You should know by now not to make this a choice." It happens in language class, too; we will ask "Is this a verb or a noun?" and J.J. and/or Johanna will say "Yes." And it's not necessarily that they mean to confirm that the second thing you said is true. Evidently, there exists a belief in Namibia that "yes" is a valid answer even when the question isn't one that those of us who speak American English (or any other English, I suspect) would typically think to answer in the affirmative or negative.

...and that, kids, is the story of The Goat.

(So this isn't my story, but it's way, way too good not to share. Though it was better when Shannon told it with facial expressions.)

Here in Namibia, we like to eat meat. A lot of meat. Preferably one to two different varieties of meat at each meal. And we don't just like to eat meat, we like to eat fresh meat. Liz, you may ask, what do you mean by "fresh meat?" Well, ladies and gentlemen, what I mean to say is that the more recently our meat was running around on its two to four legs, the better.

So on Sunday afternoon, when after a weekend at the farm (not my The Farm), my friend Shannon's family decided they wanted some fresh meat for dinner that evening, naturally they determined that the best course of action would be to tie up a goat, throw it in the trunk of their car, and bring it back to Okahandja to slaughter and prepare on the braai. In order to have a proper braai, however, there are always certain preparations that need to be made, and so the family was not immediately ready to slaughter the goat upon arriving home. No problem, they have a big house; they decided to corral the goat in a small room in the house until killin' time.

Of course, it wasn't that straightforward. If it had been, you wouldn't be reading this story. What happened was they – for whatever reason – had some difficulty persuading the goat to go calmly and quietly to await its fate (who'd have thought it?), and the goat got loose and started running around the house. Which was a problem, because a) having a goat running around your house is a recepie for disaster, of some sort, and b) Shannon's twin four-year-old host brothers were terrified of this goat. (I'm not clear on whether they are terrified of goats in general, or just the ones that get loose in their house.) So upon seeing this terrified goat running through their house, the brothers make a beeline for their bedroom to hide under their blankets until the goat is recaptured. Except that the goat has the same idea and runs into the room after these little boys, and so when they peek out from their hiding place to see if it's safe to emerge, what do they see? The goat. They scream, the goat screams and runs from the room, and the chase continues.

They did eventually catch the goat. And Shannon said it was delicious.

(Also on the subject of food, my friend Julie's family recently butchered a whole warthog on their kitchen table, and she made a video of it to share with everyone in training. The music track she selected was "Hakuna Matata." It is one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Check it out here.)

...I guess there are things going on here, after all.

Also, I'd just like to share the fact that I'm posting this FROM MY OWN COMPUTER. Huzzah! And thanks, John!

For my Michigan people...

2009-09-22T06:27:00.001-05:00

Namibia feels you on the hand thing. (This is my friend Julie demonstrating.)

En op daardie plaas, hy het 'n skaap...E-I-E-I-O

2009-09-22T06:26:00.000-05:00

Saturday, September 19, 2009

I just got back from a week-long visit to my permanent site, which for the purpose of this blog will henceforth be known as The Farm. Everyone in Namibia has a farm (or if they don't, then someone they are related to does). This has thus far been a source of great amusement for me, because people will talk about sending their children “to the farm,” which in Namibia literally means that the children go to stay on the farm, as opposed to that the children are being discretely euthanized.

If you would have told me about The Farm before I moved to Namibia, I would have wondered how anyone could possibly live in such a place. There are maybe 1 500 people there, and the only stores in town are little tuck shops that sell bread and soap and cold drinks and not much else. To get to the nearest major road, you have to drive 50 kilometers down a dirt and gravel road, the last 20K of which is not so much a “gravel road” as “a bunch of dirt and gravel that people happen to drive on.” In a few months, when the rain starts, many of the depressions along said road will become rivers, and leaving town will become an infinitely more complicated matter.

Now that I've been there, I cannot wait to go back. My host family is terrific. My students are energetic; a little rowdy, but loveable, especially my fifth graders. My school and community are full of possibilities.

The school itself is quite small – just under 150 learners (which is what we call students here) from pre-primary (kindergarten) to Grade 7, and five teachers plus the principal, Manie, who also serves as a teacher for some of the upper primary (Grades 5-7) subjects. My poor fifth graders, who will be my main responsibility when I return in October, have not had a permanent teacher this entire year, and I think they're feeling (understandably) neglected and a little wary of yet another new face in the front of their classroom. I worked with their English and math classes this week, as well as with arts and library for all the upper primary learners. (Thank goodness I spent so long working at DCM.)

When I wasn't in the classroom, I spent a lot of the week getting to know the community; not just in The Farm itself, but also a number of people in Windhoek with local roots. I met quite a bit of Manie's extended family in Windhoek and The Farm, attended a party for the pastor's wife's 70th birthday on Saturday night (2 hours of speeches, toasts, and songs in Afrikaans), and visited the actual farm (the part with cows et al.) on Tuesday afternoon. And spent a ridiculous amount of time playing Uno and Hangman with my thirteen-year-old host brother.

I had kind of realized this before, but the drive down to The Farm last weekend confirmed my suspicion that Namibia is ridiculously beautiful. Seriously. From here to Windhoek, it's mountains to the east and savannahs to the west; there's one point on the B1 where the road cuts through the rock and as you reach the crest of the hill it's all right there, framed like a picture. About 30K south of Windhoek, the mountains begin to trail off further to the west, and suddenly it's just flat, and the contrast is unbelievable. It's savannah exactly the way you imagine it should look, the tall yellow grass and the stunted trees and the brown scrub. And it just goes on forever, until it hits the sky, which is about a thousand times bigger here. The stars are like nothing I've ever seen before, even better than I remember them being in the Wadi Rum or Mt. Sinai, and when the moon is full it's so bright you could read a book outside in the middle of the night.

Thank you to everyone who has written to me offering up resources for my students; once I've figured out what our most pressing needs are, I will definitely let you know.

Afrikaans, ek sal jou byt!

2009-09-22T06:25:00.000-05:00

Monday, September 21, 2009

(“Afrikaans, I will bite you!”)

Afrikaans and I are not friends right now. Not even a little bit.

It all started at site visit. Or rather, it did not start at site visit, because exchanging greetings and basic introductions was the extent of the Afrikaans that I spoke the whole week. And even that was pretty one-sided, since most of those conversations went something like this:

Me: Goeiemiddag, hoe gaan dit met u? (Good afternoon, how are you?)
Afrikaans-speaking person: Oh my word! You speak Afrikaans! [To everyone else within earshot] She speaks Afrikaans! Wow! [To Milan, the other PCV] Milan, why is her Afrikaans so much better than yours? Why don't you ever speak Afrikaans?
Milan: [Thinks about pushing me in front of a speeding combi; lucky for me there aren't many of those on The Farm.]
Me: Nie, ek praat net 'n bietjie Afrikaans. (No, I only speak a little bit of Afrikaans.)

That's a problem, but it's not my biggest problem. The real issue, as I am continually having to point out to the many well-intentioned Afrikaans-speaking people in my life, is that my current working vocabulary consists of perhaps 150-200 words, a good chunk of which are non-content words. And unfortunately, when one's vocabulary is that limited, discerning meaning is unbelievably freaking difficult, even with the assistance of non-verbal cues. When my host mom tells me “Go to the cabinet and get me the salt,” I hear “Go to the...and get me...”. I know that she is not asking for carrots or water or milk or onions or a spoon, but that still leaves approximately 5624 things in that kitchen that she could be asking for, the terms for which I do not know.

Don't even get me started on how frustrating it is to have people use the “repeat slower and louder” approach when I don't catch what they say the first time. Or the second time. Or the thirty-fifth time. There are literally not words to describe the humiliation. Choosing how to spend my evenings is agonizing: do I hole up in my room all evening and risk everyone thinking that I'm rude, or brave the kitchen or living room and leave everyone convinced that I'm an idiot, an object of ridicule, even?

Do you understand what's going on? As long as you have no follow up questions then yes. Yes, I do.

Our mid-PST language proficiency exam is on Friday, and I am actually not that worried about it. Those 150-200 words that I know, I know like the back of my hand. I can greet any person I might meet, formally or informally and in a temporally appropriate manner. I can tell you who I am and why I'm here and where I stay and for how long. I can ask if this bus is going to Rehoboth or where the principal's office is. I can tell you that I have danced, am dancing, and will dance. But it's the things that I don't know, and the limited amount of time I have to learn even a portion of those things, that worry me. Today in class they asked us to draw up a list of the things we want to review for the exam, and a list of things we want to learn – the second list was three times longer than the first, and could easily have gone on further.

I've got four weeks. Better get back to studying.

Ek sal woon in...

2009-09-10T06:24:00.000-05:00

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

I got my first choice site!! Yay!!

I am going to be teaching upper primary English (grades 5-7) at a small, rural school in the Hardap region, about 80K from Rehoboth and 100K from Mariental. I will be the first Peace Corps Volunteer to serve at this school, though there is an education Volunteer from Group 27 who lives in the village and teaches at another school there. (Maybe the secondary school? I don't know for sure.) I am really excited for the challenge of being the first to work at this school, though I admit that I'm glad I'll have another Volunteer there to help me out for the first few weeks at site...especially after Raymond (our Safety and Security Coordinator) scared the pants off us during our transportation safety session.

My school is quite small – just under 150 learners (leerlinge) and only 6 teachers (onderwysers), according to the site profile the Peace Corps gave me – and like many other rural schools in Namibia, it has a student hostel (koshuis) where many of the learners will live during the school year. After a few weeks living with a host family in the community, I will move into a one-bedroom flat on the school compound (skoolterrain) where I will have running water and electricity. My principal (skoolhoof), who I'll meet on Friday, has worked with Peace Corps Volunteers before (including the guy from Group 27 who precedes me in the village), and all of the Education staff have mentioned that he's a great mentor. Awesome! Possible secondary projects include working on the school library (biblioteek - whether improving it or developing it from scratch, I'm not certain) and working on community projects related to HIV/AIDS education.

There are two other Volunteers from my group in the same region – Debbie (ICT) and Steve (Secondary Science Ed.). I believe we'll all be using Mariental as our banking/shopping/postal town; even though Rehoboth is technically closer to me, I'll go the extra 20K if it means I can meet up with friends for a day. I've been told that I may also be able to use my school's mailing address, but that's something I'll find out for sure next week during site visit. Another Volunteer, Tracey (Secondary Math Ed.), is in the southern part of the Khomas region (the next region north of Hardap), within reasonable traveling distance for weekend visits. Most of us in the south are quite spread out, though we're definitely planning to make an effort to see one another as often as our schedules permit.

After getting our site assignments, we went out for pizza (and Windhoek Lager, Namibia's beer of choice) in town to celebrate our future and Sarah B.'s birthday!

Smaaklik!

2009-09-10T06:12:00.005-05:00

Saturday, September 5

So, let's talk about one of the most important topics that any travel-related blog can possibly cover: food. Today was my training class' traditional cooking day, when we gathered with our trainers and host families at the Kakuri Center to prepare and enjoy a wide variety of foods from around Namibia.

Prior to today, my experience with food in this country really hadn't differed substantially from what I encountered in the United States, excepting the Namibian affinity for butter and “ketchup” (a term I use loosely) that I alluded to in my last post. While attending Camp Peace Corps during our first week in-country, we were introduced to the two major food groups in Namibia – starch and meat – but in familiar forms: rice and pasta, beef and chicken and fish. I think the most “Namibian” food we ate during that week was porridge (pap in Afrikaans), which was memorable primarily because it strongly resembled the amazing mashed potatoes we'd had the night before in appearance, but definitely not in taste. (I remember sitting next to Amy at dinner that night and both of us remarking that the porridge-masquerading-as-potatoes tasted a little different tonight!) At my homestay, the types of things on the menu have been much the same, although we did have an excellent curry the other night.

We arrived at the Kakuri Center before 7 AM today to start setting up for a long, hot day of cooking. (Forecast for today was 36C, which is about 95F – yes, this is spring in Namibia!) After helping to set up the braai (barbeque) and tables for the Afrikaans group, I headed out to where the river isn't with my friend Steve, a few training staff members, and our Resource PCV for the week, Emily, to get some firewood. By the time we returned, they'd slaughtered the chickens (who were bought in Windhoek yesterday) and were beginning to clean the carcasses over at the Owambo area. I am not really sorry that I missed that part of the program; evidently, in my absence, my classmates Irina and Dasha took care of one of the birds.

I floated around for most of the morning, helping to prepare slaai (salads – potato, carrot/apple, and beet), roosterbrood (bread cooked on the braai), goat and vegetable stew, and skaap braai (barbequed sheep) at the Afrikaans fires and observing the cooking at other stations. I got to sample some Otjiherero sour milk (tasted like unflavored yogurt, which is pretty much what it is) and watch the Herero women, all decked out in their cattle-horned hats, prepare bread in an earth oven, clean fish and chickens with the Silozi and Owambo groups, and enjoy some fresh (and hot!) fat cakes by the Khoekhoe fires. In spite of snacking on and off all morning, by the time lunch was served at 1 PM, I was starving. I tried a little bit of everything – all the Afrikaans dishes I'd helped prepare, fried fish from the Caprivi region, two delicious spinach dishes from Kavango, bean stew with peanuts from Owamboland, two kinds of porridge (honestly, they all kinda taste the same), the Herero earth bread (served drizzled in goat fat and quite delicious), sheep intestine (a little chewy, but inoffensive flavor-wise), dumplings in sauce, and of course, more fat cake. Because it is not a party in Namibia without fat cakes. And butter. And ketchup.

Tracey and Irina washing/thawing the goat meat.

Steve checking on the roosterbrood (bread made on the grill).

My ma teaching Brad to braai.

Ek leer om Afrikaans te praat!

2009-09-01T07:16:00.000-05:00

Monday, August 31, 2009

Goeiemiddag! Afrikaans is coming along slowly but surely. This morning, we had a “walk around” lesson, wherein we descended upon the unsuspecting population of Okahandja and forced passersby to converse with us; not an easy or comfortable task, given that after four days we still only know how to greet and take leave. I guess the good news is that I am now highly proficient at greeting people according to the time of day and their status with respect to gender and age.

I can also say that I am an English teacher (“Ek is Engels onderwyseres”) and sing a song about how Jesus made me beautiful and I am therefore going to shake what he gave me. (And of course, when we sing this song during assembly, we do shake what Jesus gave us.) Thanks, Peace Corps!

On Friday, I moved out of “Camp Peace Corps” and into my host family's home on the outskirts of town. These particular neighborhoods were the coloured section of town under South African rule (the next neighborhood in was the black area, and whites lived in town), although it's diversified to some degree over the past two decades. My family consists of an older married couple (who I call Ma and Pa) and their teenaged grandson, who I've seen for a grand total of 15 minutes since I moved in. The grandson was appropriated to help out around the house; his family lives a few blocks away (though I haven't met them yet), and they have many other family members – both in the American sense of “people related to you” and the Namibian sense of “people who are up to six degrees of separation from you” - in the neighborhood and in town. At the house, I have my own room and bathroom, complete with hot and cold running water and a Western-style toilet, and we have a TV in the living room that gets two channels (NBC [Namibian Broadcasting Corp.] and Africa ONE). So in case you were wondering, no, I'm not exactly roughing it here – but nobody really is.

Ma is hypersensitive about my health and is convinced that my stuffed up nose and sleeping habits (I go to bed around 9 PM and wake up at 6 AM because life here is exhausting) mean that I have Swine Flu. Apparently there have been several cases of H1N1 in Namibia, and people are pretty freaked out by it. Personally, I am more concerned about rabies, having had the fear of God put into me by Kate, the PCMO, on Friday afternoon. I am giving the dogs in my neighborhood (everyone has at least one dog for security) a wider berth than the speeding cars. Seriously.

I am eating quite well, although the Namibians believe that everything is improved through the addition of either a) butter, b) ketchup, or c) both. Today for lunch, Ma packed me two peanut butter and butter (yes, I typed that correctly) sandwiches, two fish fillets and two apples...I ate one of the sandwiches at lunch, the apples during tea breaks, and gave one of the fish fillets to Tracy. I had been glad that we hadn't run into any problems related to my eating habits, but when I got home I learned that we have; I told her that the food was good, but she had packed me too much, and she said that she doesn't think I eat enough. Namibian food is heavy on starches and meats, although Ma is pretty good about getting some vegetables on our plates as well (tonight we had cooked pumpkin and beet salad with our meat and rice). Since coming here, I have stopped drinking coffee (since it's all instant – NesCaf, anyone?) and fallen deeply in love with Rooibos tea. It's so good, and my Ma gives me at least four cups a day, although she cannot believe that I take it without sugar.

Thanks to loads of downtime this weekend, I'm almost done with my first Peace Corps book (Paul Theroux's “Dark Star Safari”), which has been a pretty good read. My friend Caitie is bringing me “Pride and Prejudice and Zombies” tomorrow – right now we are all trying to read books belonging to other people, figuring that we will have months to be alone with our own books in the not-so-distant future.

Speaking of said not-so-distant future, site announcements are a mere 9 days away, and our site visits will begin at the end of next week. Since I am learning Afrkiaans, I am able to narrow my placement down to the following: not the Caprivi Strip, not the Kavango, and probably not Owamboland. (Please refer to a map of Namibia for the irony here; basically, this means I could be nearly anywhere in the remaining 85% of the country. I promise to provide you with a totally sweet “map” of Namibia in the next post.)

All for now! Totsiens!

Howezit?

2009-08-25T12:10:00.000-05:00

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

I got my language training assignment this morning, and I will be studying Afrikaans! My trainer's name is Johanna, and there are two other girls (Dasha and Irina) in my group, which is one of four groups studying Afrikaans. Other groups are learning Rukwangali, Silozi (which is spoken in the Caprivi Strip), Oshindonga, and Otjiherero.

So far, all we've done is review the alphabet (there are a few pronunciation differences in Afrikaans, and the letters c, x, and z aren't used except in loanwords) and learn some greetings and responses.

“Howezit?” “Lekke.”
“Vera?” “Oraait.”
“Verder?” “Goed.”
“Isja?” “/na!”

(They all basically mean the same thing. The last response is actually borrowed from Khoekhoe [pronounced kway-kway], which is the Khoesan [i.e. clicking] language spoken in some parts of Namibia.)

(Keep on reading - there's another new post below!)

Monday, August 24, 2009

2009-08-25T12:05:00.000-05:00

Wow, I can already see that translating my extensive journal entries (I've been averaging 5 pages per day in my Moleskine...shoulda brought more than two of those!) into blog posts is going to be much more difficult than I'd anticipated...well, I'll try to give you a decent rundown of the past week!

August 18: Staging. Probably necessary, but not exciting. I did get my own room at the hotel in DC (since we're an odd number and I am the last alphabetically), that was pretty sweet.
August 19: Yellow Fever shots at the Department of Health and Human Services. Saw lots of nice things in DC...from the window of the bus. We arrived at Dulles 7 hours before our flight was to depart, only to find that the Air South Africa desk doesn't even open until 1:30 (we got there just before 11 AM). Spent lots of time sitting on a pile of luggage, gathering dirty looks from TSA.
Flight Part 1 (DC to Dakar): There was a screaming baby seated two rows behind me. I am not normally a praying person, but I was begging for them to either get off or be booted off the plane in Dakar. Unfortunately, they stuck around for the second leg of the flight. I watched 17 Again, which was even worse than I thought it would be, and a couple episodes of House.
Flight Part 2: I actually got about 4 hours of sleep before being roused by the aforementioned screaming child. Okay, fine. Around lunchtime, we started flying over Namibia, which from the air does look quite a bit like Tatooine, actually; red-brown earth with sporadic patches of brown scrub (it is winter here, afterall) and metal-roofed buildings. Maybe moisture farms.
August 20: Arrive in Johannesburg, where it is FREEZING, and are quickly shuttled off to the hotel. I ate dinner and enjoyed some Windhoek Lager with my fellow trainees before calling it an early night.
August 21: Johannesburg to Windhoek. No missing luggage for me, yay! Although one girl in my group did miss our flight because she lost her Peace Corps passport with her Namibian visa...she made it here, though, don't worry.

We were greeted in song by the entire training staff at the conference center gate, and once inside they performed about half a dozen songs for us. If these people are half as good at training us as they are at singing, we are all set – I think my friend Brad made some recordings, so if he manages to get those up online anytime in the near future, I'll be sure to link that here. We actually begin every morning with songs – usually one performed by the training staff, then the Namibian national anthem, the Star Spangled Banner, and our Group 30 anthem, to which we all know the words but not the meaning (I think it's in Oshidonga, but I'm not certain). Later in the day, we were taken on a walking tour of town, where we visited several grocery stores (well stocked, peanut butter, even!) and the local artisan's market.

Since then, our training has mostly consisted of general knowledge sessions – health (I've gotten two shots so far, plus started on Lariam – that's the one that makes you crazy), safety/security, administrative issues, etc. Again, not too exciting, but probably necessary. We have two resource PCVs here this week (they actually leave Tuesday morning), Katie and Parker, who have been amazing. Parker is just finishing up his first year (his blog is Paka in Afrika on the PC Journal site), and Katie is extending her service for a third year. I haven't gotten to know our Language and Culture Facilitators (LCFs – i.e. language teachers) very well yet, but that'll change on Tuesday morning when I start my language training.

On Sunday, the English education trainees (I think there are 18 of us out of 33 total) had our permanent site interviews. We find out those sites in two weeks, and travel to them for a two week stay shortly thereafter. All my preferred sites were small, rural schools, and my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director - basically, my boss at PC/Namibia) had great things to say about the principals at all. Hopefully they'll see fit to place me at one of those sites, but we'll see. I honestly cannot imagine being unhappy at any site - I LOVE it here, and I am smiling non-stop. I'm sure that it will be more challenging when I move out into the town to live with a host family, but I am ready for anything.

This weekend, our town hosted ceremonies commemorating the Herero genocide. The Herero people used to be the majority ethic group (Namibia has 11 major languages, and many additional minority languages) in central Namibia, but when the Germans invaded in 1904, they sought to colonize this part of the country. The Herero resisted fiercly, but ultimately their armies were defeated and 80,000 men, women and children were slaughtered not far from here. The surviving soldiers and leaders fled to Botswana, where they lived out their days in exile. In 1924, the remains of several important Herero generals and heros were moved from Botswana and reburied in a church across the street from my training center. We went to watch one of the ceremonies, but unfortunately the Volunteers who took us didn't speak any Otjiherero (the language of the Herero people), so we didn't really know what was going on! Wednesday is another holiday, commemorating the first battle in the Namibian war for independence from South Africa.

Staging and Travel

2009-08-20T15:05:00.002-05:00

Hello from South Africa! I am sitting in my hotel room in Johannesburg after two exhausting days of meetings and travel, but I am so thrilled to finally be in Africa (although I'd barely know it - I've only been in the airport and my hotel) and to be going to Namibia tomorrow morning! We actually got to see Namibia from the air this afternoon. My first reaction? My mom and brother were right, this is Tatooine - lots of sand and scrub, big stretches of empty road and small groups of houses and buildings scattered across the landscape. I got a little bit of sleep on the first leg of the flight (we stopped in Dakar to refuel), and about 3-4 hours more on the second leg - not nearly enough, but not too shabby.

There are 33 of us in my group, about 2/3 English teachers and the remainder are math, science and computer teachers. The majority are fairly recent college graduates, but there are some people who have had more professional teaching experience as well. It's a fantastic group, and I'm looking forward to getting to know everyone better during training!

It is freezing here, and I really hope it's not as cold in Namibia or I might wish I'd packed that second fleece after all...

The Obligatory Packing Post

2009-08-17T11:15:00.008-05:00

It's done. 70.2 lbs. and 101 inches - larger and heavier than I would have preferred, I think, but I can manage them on my own and they're within the weight and size limits that the Peace Corps and United Airlines permit.

I spent about 4 hours yesterday pouring over my lists, cutting things out, moving things around, and I think this is the most functional configuration of stuff I could possibly have, if maybe not the most efficient use of space possible. I'll be living out of that blue nylon bag from Tuesday until Friday morning, when we finally arrive (assuming all goes off hitch-free) in Windhoek. The backpack is for use during training (I even managed to fit my sleeping bag in there!), and the black duffel has the other half of my clothes, plus my rewards for after swearing-in: 20 new pairs of underwear, To Say Nothing of the Dog, and A Civil Campaign.

Here's what we've got...

Clothing: 2 long sleeved t-shirts; 5 short sleeved t-shirts; 3 tank tops; 2 long sleeved button down shirts; 5 short sleeved dress shirts; 2 pairs of dress slacks; 1 pair of jeans; 3 ankle length skirts; 2 dresses; 2 pairs of knee length shorts; 1 bathing suit; 30 pairs of underwear; 4 pairs of socks; 2 bras; 4 sports bras; 1 pair of long underwear bottoms; 1 pair of athletic capris; 1 pair of pajamas; 1 pair of sweatpants; 1 fleece; 2 cardigan sweaters; 1 warm hat; 1 pair of gloves; 1 scarf; 4 bandanas.

Shoes: 2 pairs of slip-on sandals; 1 pair of flats; 1 pair of sneakers; 1 pair of rubber flip flops.

Hygiene: 1 camping towel; 1 large bottle of hand sanitizer; 1 travel size bottle of hand sanitizer; 3 toothbrushes; 1 bottle of sunscreen; 1 tube of body lotion; 1 pumice stone; 1 pair of tweezers; 1 pair of nail clippers; 1 pack of disposable razors; 1 hairbrush; 1 comb; various hair accessories; 1 Diva Cup; 1 compact mirror; toothpaste, dental floss, deodorant, shampoo bars, and soap divided into bags for staging, training, and service.

Electronics: Acer Netbook; external hard drive; iPod; digital camera and memory cards; AA and AAA batteries; 2 USB flash drives; Solio solar charger.

Teaching Resources: Folder with activity ideas and worksheets; my 8 favorite TESOL resource books; approximately 5000 stickers. (Really.) I also have all the electronic versions of my worksheets and materials from my ESL and TESOL classes saved on my hard drive.

Entertainment: 1 deck of cards; 1 book of crossword puzzles (NYT "Tame" puzzles); Seasons 2-5 of The Office; 6 paperback books. (First up on deck, in my carry on bag, is Paul Theroux's Dark Star Safari.)

Miscellaneous: 2 Nalgene water bottles; 2 bags of drink mix packets (I think it's about 6 boxes in total); 1 box quart-sized Ziploc bags; 1 Leatherman Micra multitool; 2 combination locks; 1 headlamp; 1 solar-powered flashlight; 1 battery-powered alarm clock; 2 legal pads; 2 Moleskine journals; 3 folders; 1 box of Bic pens; 1 address book; Sharpie markers; 1 tape measure; 1 sewing kit; 12 ID photos; 1 flat sheet; 2 pillow cases; 1 summer-weight sleeping bag; 1 camping pillow; 1 jump rope; 1 resistence band; 1 photo album with pictures of friends and family.

Gifts for host family: MSU and Chicago Cubs hats; crayons/markers/coloring books; frisbees; bubbles; Bert's Bees products.

I went back and forth a little on a) how many, and b) which TESOL books to bring. I have absolutely no idea what kind of resources we get during training, or what kinds of resources my school might have available, and that was really what tipped me towards the choices I made. They're like my safety net. One of my TESOL professors from Wheaton College told me that when she goes abroad to teach, she does not hesitate to purge clothes from her bags in order to make room for more books, and I think she's right. I don't know if they have these kinds of books in Namibia, but I know that they wear clothes there. In the end, too, I could accommodate them in my duffel bag (both in terms of size and weight), so I figured why not?

[For the record, I chose: Basic Grammar in Use and Grammar in Use Intermediate (both by Smalzer and Murphy); Five Minute Activities for Young Learners (McKay and Guse); Five Minute Activities (Ur and Wright); 500 Activites for the Primary Classroom (Read); two of Carolyn Graham's jazz chant books; and Pronunciation Contrasts in English (Nielson and Nielson). I've used all of them previously except for the children's activity books.]

T-minus 2 days

2009-08-16T12:14:00.003-05:00

I think I am going to have to drug myself if I plan on sleeping between now and Tuesday. Probably if I plan on sleeping on Tuesday as well. The last time I remember looking at the clock last night, it was 12:17 AM - I'm not sure if that's because I fell asleep after that, or because I just stopped checking the time when I rolled over - and I got up at 7:15 this morning to meet my friends for breakfast. Theoretically, that's plenty of sleep. But I feel like I haven't gotten any rest in days.

Maybe the coffee's just worn off.

I am not done packing yet, but that's only because laundry day was yesterday and I haven't gotten around to putting those now clean clothes into my bags. It'll get done this afternoon, along with a post about the whole process and one of those coveted packing lists for the Group 31 kids to enjoy in a few months.

I'm excited and anxious - not worried about any one specific thing, just overwhelmed by all the looming newness. Reading blogs has helped. Putting together a photo album has helped. Uploading all my TESOL materials to my external hard drive has helped. Hey, I gotta take what little control I have and run with it!

An update on Mauritania...

2009-08-10T20:21:00.003-05:00

Through a variety of social networking media, I learned this evening that Peace Corps operations in Mauritania have been suspended, and that the Volunteers currently serving there will be heading back to the U.S. fairly soon. Their words are much better to tell it than mine: check out Peace Corps Mauritania blogs here.

Even as I've prepared for my new assignment in Namibia, PC/RIM has kept a special place in my heart, and I'm so sorry for the Volunteers and for the communities they've come to know and love. This is a truly fantastic group of people whose dedication to and enthusiasm for their work is just incredible. I know that all of us in the disbanded Mauritania staging class truly appreciate how welcoming they were and really wish circumstances had allowed us to meet. I wish everyone a safe trip home and the best of luck in their next endeavors.

Expletive deleted?

2009-08-04T19:18:00.002-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, I received a phone call from a number that I didn't recognize, but I went ahead and picked it up anyway.

"Hello, is this Elizabeth?"
"Yes, it is."
"Hi Elizabeth, this is Melanie [or whatever] from Sato Travel*."

I am 90% sure that I didn't respond with any obscenities, but there were definitely some choice words on the tip of my tongue. And for this, I apologize.

For the past five weeks, I have had this crippling fear that something is going to go wrong with my visa application, or my passport is going to get lost in the shuffle, or something else that will result in a phone call from Sato that will lead to my becoming distressed. Either that, or Sato drew the short straw when they were deciding who would have to give me the next round of bad news.

And it's not just the phone calls that get me a little worked up. Last week, I got four emails almost simultaneously from my Country Desk and I had to stop and focus on breating evenly for a minute so I wouldn't keel over. (This was important, because if I had, I would have hit my head on the edge of my desk, possibly resulting in some sort of medical issue that the Peace Corps would be unable to accommodate.)

Luckily, the phone call was just to inform me that my flight to staging has been changed - I'm taking off two hours later, which is more than fine with me, since now I can wake up at a reasonable hour and still get to staging on time. Awesome.

*Sato, in case you haven't caught on, is the federal government travel agency that, among other things, handles all official Peace Corps travel and processes our visas and passports. I have spent an ungodly amount of time on the phone with these people in the last six months. Like, so much time, that for a while there the passport guy and I were on a first name basis.

Behold!

2009-08-03T14:41:00.003-05:00

Today, like so many other days, I found myself with absolutely nothing to do. And believe it or not, I am getting a little tired of watching TV on DVD all the time.

So, I went to Hobby Lobby, and this is what I made:

Why yes, I do have awesome crafting skills. Thanks for noticing!

I had a dream, that I stood beneath an orange sky

2009-07-30T21:31:00.012-05:00

19 days to go. (Maybe "Only 19 days to go." Or "Only 19 days to go!" Or even "Only 19 days to go?")

It's incredible to me to look at a calendar (or my little countdown app) and see the time ticking down, because it still feels so far away. Maybe it's because in my unemployed state, I do not really pay attention to the date outside of ESL classes. Maybe it's because June felt so long, first because of the anticipation and then because of the letdown. Maybe it's because July is just an epically long month. (31 days? Really? Is it totally necessary to have all those days?)

It's definitely attributable, in part, to doubt. Not "Can I do this?" doubt, and not "Do I want this?" doubt, but "Is this really happening?" doubt. My continued presence in the U.S. (like many from my former cohorts) is kind of an inside joke between me and everyone I know, and even between everyone I know and the people they know. My mom asks me nearly every day, "So, did you hear from the Peace Corps today? Still going to Namibia?"

But Namibia is gradually working its way into my system. The host family videos have become viral among Group 30. (And that's another thing - I finally have a staging class with a number! That I'm aware of!) I've gotten Facebook messages and emails from a few PCVs currently in Namibia, including a welcome message from PC/Namibia's Volunteer Support Network (VSN) forwarded by my CDO this evening. I recently stumbled upon this blog, which is maintained by a Group 27 TEFL volunteer, and let me just say: Danielle, this is pure gold. Seriously. Thank you.

It's the little things that make me excited. We got an email from the Country Desk this evening with a multitude of wonderful things, including a breakdown of our training (subject to change, of course). Pre-Service Training (PST) will be in and around a town about 45 minutes from Windhoek (which is properly pronounced Vin-hook, by the way) that I am fairly certain I am discouraged from identifying by name on the internet, so I will make up an appropriate moniker for it when I get there. We find out our permanent sites about 3 weeks in, which blows my mind (I had thought it would be longer than that). And yes, Khoekhoegowab is one of my possible languages...but that's another post for another day.

(Oh Liz of 3 months ago, you had no idea...)

Hey, stupid, that ain't news no more!

2009-07-19T17:39:00.005-05:00

As reported by AP and other news outlets, Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz, who led the coup last August, has won the Mauritanian presidential election with a reported 52% of the vote. Opposition parties are calling fraud, but according to this article, African Union observers have stated that the proceedings were fair and transparent. So we'll see where it all goes from here.

Also, thanks to a tip received on my last entry, I actually have some information about the Namibian elections that will be occurring later this year - just a few weeks after my class swears in, actually. I found this article on AllAfrica.com (it's from mid-March), which discusses how the role of opposition parties (i.e. parties other than SWAPO) has changed in Namibia since independence, and especially what kind of role they might play in the upcoming presidental and parliamentary elections. Another piece from AllAfrica published earlier this month talks about elections and democratization in southern Africa more generally. Got more Namibian news needs? Check out the online version of The Namibian (Namibia's largest daily newspaper) or The Namibia Economist. Have no fear - their letters to the editor also start with "Dear Sir...".

Be sure your mom and dad get out to vote Election Day!

2009-07-18T18:08:00.007-05:00

It's election day (or was, since it's now nearly midnight over there) in Mauritania, my ex-future host country. I actually learned this morning from a Namibia PCV's blog that my current future host country will be having its own presidential election later this year - in October, to be exact - but so far Google isn't turning up much information about it. I admit that my immediate interest in any upcoming Namibian political developments has as much to do with my desire to educate myself about any possible obstacles that said developments might pose to my being able to serve there as it does with my desire to learn more about the place I hope to spend the next two years living and working. Forgive my trepidation, but I think that after the placement process I've had, it's to be expected that I'm approaching new developments with caution.

Anyway, the reason I started this post in the first place was to share some of the preliminary news on what's going on in Mauritania. The latest AP story on the electoral proceedings has some pictures and plenty of background, and BBC also has a nice FAQ article that outlines all the major players. Results are expected tomorrow.

Stage II

2009-07-16T12:56:00.003-05:00

Just got done booking my flight to staging, which is in DC this time around. I am also currently recovering from the minor heart attack I had when the SATO representative said to me, "I'm sorry, I don't have any record of you being in this group." Crisis averted; It turned out to be a misspelling of my last name. WHEW.

Anyway, I'll be arriving in DC just before lunch on Tuesday, August 18 and am currently accepting bids for my limited free time.

Guess this means I need to start turning my attention back towards packing, which will be a much more difficult endeavor now that I'm going to a country where it's socially acceptable for me to wear pants. And where winter exists.

EDIT: I also just realized that my interview was a year ago today. It's crazy how much has changed since then.

PC/Namibia Video Extravaganza: Part 1

2009-07-11T22:19:00.002-05:00

I found the link to this video series on another Namibia PCV's blog, and it's pretty much a jackpot! So cool to get a glimpse of what my life might be like come August...

The Land of Contrasts

2009-06-30T15:45:00.007-05:00

Destination: Namibia
Assignment: English Teacher, Upper Primary and Secondary Education Project
Departure: August 19, 2009

After spending the past couple of days staring obsessively at my cellphone, my new invitation arrived - as predicted by several of my ex-Mauritania stagemates - in my Gmail inbox early this afternoon. I'm still processing the news, and to be quite honest, I haven't really decided how I feel about it just yet. There is a huge part of me that is very reluctant to do anything committal simply because I've had such terrible luck in this whole process so far and I'm not eager to be let down again.

On the other hand, according to Wikipedia:

"Namibia is one of Africa's most developed and stable countries, with a stable multiparty parliamentary democracy..."

That being said: if you (or anyone you know) has inside information about any imminent political disasters in Namibia, please let me know before I accept my invitation.*

*I am only partially kidding about this.

"Every time! Every [bleeping] time!"

2009-06-29T16:27:00.004-05:00

Waiting for my original invitation to Madagascar was stressful, to put it mildly. I thought that waiting to get my replacement would be less stressful. It wasn't. Not by a long shot.

So what on earth possessed me to think that I'd be able to wait patiently and calmly for another jaunt through Placement?

Maybe I can get my professors to confiscate my phone tomorrow. It wouldn't make it ring, but at least it would keep me from staring at it all through class...

Just because I'm losing, doesn't mean I'm lost

2009-06-28T22:53:00.004-05:00

My Placement Officer (the same woman who did my Madagascar-to-Mauritania replacement back in March) called on Friday morning to touch base with me regarding my re-replacement. Our conversation was pretty brief, if only because they are (or were) still working on formulating some answers for us. The gist of it is that they're looking at programs departing between August and October, and that they definitely have a preference for keeping me in Francophone Africa. A quick glance at the Wiki suggested to me that Togo and Cameroon are the my most likely options; my next project was to read up about the governments of both countries to gauge if either is likely to collapse in the near future. I am not kidding about this.

Four or five people from my group have already been reassigned to Togo - all for Girl's Education and Empowerment - and a few of those were former TEFLers, so I'm not sure exactly what that means, except that Togo is definitely an option that's on the table. There have also been two reassignments to Senegal, leaving in August, one in the agricultural sector and the other in small enterprise development. Shannon, the one who got invited for ag (and was part of the February '09 Madagascar group), posted this Facebook status in response to the news:

Going to Senegal August 10! Now here's the best part: "Senegal — a former French colony that has never known a coup d’état or military rule, and for 48 years has been one of the most stable, peaceful and enduring democracies in a region so long beset by tyranny and strife."

I think that sums up how a lot of us are feeling about this whole situation. At this point, all I can ask for is a country that I'll actually be able to get to.

As for me personally...it's been a rough couple of days, and I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I've had some second thoughts about going through re-replacement. There is not even a hint of doubt in my mind that this is what I want to do, but it's also hard to suppress the voice in my head that's saying "But what if it doesn't work out this time, either?" Alex, who is briefly back in touch with the real world (and at exactly the right time, as far as I'm concerned) has been enormously helpful in talking me through this whole thing, and so for now, I'm back in the "tomorrow's-Monday-maybe-my-PO-will-call" state of mind.

(And I'm hoping that this whole Honduras situation doesn't end up disrupting a whole other batch of prospective Volunteers...they're supposed to leave Tuesday. I like to think that I'm generally up-to-date on my international news - this has been a pretty big story today - but it's kind of amazing how even little stories about countries where I know the Peace Corps is active tend to catch my eye more often!)

EDIT: Also, just to clarify - the cancellation of my staging class in Mauritania was 100% due to the visa procurement issues that caused our initial delay. All official indications are that the death of the American aid worker in Nouakchott did not play a role in that decision, and at this time there has been no change in the status of Peace Corps/Mauritania. The program will continue at about half capacity (since there will still be a group COSing this summer) until the Peace Corps is able to organize a new staging class and be guaranteed of securing all necessary documents for that class. Whether they'll just hold off and increase the size of the class for summer 2010, or send new people earlier than that, remains to be seen.

The fat lady sings...again.

2009-06-24T16:47:00.001-05:00

My staging class for Mauritania is canceled.

I'm taking this quite well, if I do say so myself.

Third time's a charm, right?

Mauritania in the News

2009-06-24T08:20:00.002-05:00

As you may have heard (if you are in the habit of seeking out news about Mauritania), an American aid worker - NOT a Peace Corps Volunteer - was killed in Nouakchott yesterday morning. Details are still pretty sparse, although several reports have indicated that he was killed after resisting a kidnapping attempt. Motive and responsibility are still anyone's guess. I should note that I haven't spoken to anyone from my country desk, but all else being equal, I do not think this incident alone is going to keep us out of Mauritania. In spite of the Peace Corps' heavy emphasis on the safety of the Volunteer, if they went around pulling out of every country where this sort of thing happened, there wouldn't be a Peace Corps.

In other Mauritanian news this week, it is still up in the air whether the negotiations between the current government and other parties participating in the election will resume in Dakar, and the cause of a Mauritanian journalist recently arrested over the content of his website has been taken up by Reporters Sans Frontieres (RSF, i.e. Reporters without Borders).

NPCA: Appropriations Subcommittee votes $450 Million for Peace Corps

2009-06-20T19:51:00.003-05:00

Just got this from the National Peace Corps Association on my Facebook newsfeed! You can check out the original post here.

Despite limited funds to work with, the House Appropriations Subcommittee for State, Foreign Operations and Related Programs today took a major step forward to provide the resources for a bigger, better and bolder Peace Corps. In its "mark up" of programs within the International Affairs budget for Fiscal Year 2010, the subcommittee agreed to recommend a $450 Million appropriation for the Peace Corps. This decision was announced last night on MSNBC's Hardball with Chris Matthews by Subcommittee Chairwoman Nita Lowey.

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

There's nothing that 100 men or more could ever do.

2009-06-20T11:07:00.002-05:00

Upon finding out that my staging had been postponed, the biggest problem in my life suddenly became not "How am I supposed to make all this stuff fit?" but "How am I supposed to fill all this time until I leave?" The answer? Take a stab at the second biggest item on my current five-year plan: graduate school.

Call it luck, call it fate, call it whatever you like, but two days after I got that phone call from Nicole, I stumbled upon what seemed like the perfect opportunity: an intensive summer TESOL program offered by Wheaton College. So, for the past week, I've been rising dutifully at 6 AM and spending my evenings reading and studying for TESOL Methodology (i.e. how to teach English) and English Phonology (i.e. how to teach pronunciation). It's been a good experience so far, aside from how sore I am at the end of every day from sitting at a seriously uncomfortable desk for more than 6 hours, and I think that I'm going to be a lot more comfortable going into a classroom situation for having taken the classes. Phonology in particular has captured my interest (which may surprise those of you who remember how vehemently I hated French Phonetics); I've been going around for a few days making friends and acquaintances speak to me in foreign languages so that I can look at the differences in orofacial muscule movement. It's really fascinating!

After classes are done July 3, I'll be going back to teaching ESL a few mornings a week until early August. I also have Caprill and Corey's wedding to look forward to at the end of July, and maybe another big adventure before (insha'allah) leaving for Mauritania in August.

And for your enjoyment, a clip from Chuck (my favorite show of late):

VOA: More deals in Mauritania power-sharing deal

2009-06-19T22:00:00.002-05:00

One of my stagemates posted a link to this article, which does not exactly fill me with hope.

An interim administration was to have been established twelve days ago with the civilian president toppled in last August's coup as its head. But Sidi Ould Cheikh Abdallahi will not formally resign as president until the ruling military council that deposed him is dissolved.

The man who led that coup - and is now running for president - Mohamed Ould Abdel Aziz, says the military council must stay in place until elections July 18.

Fingers crossed that the elections will proceed smoothly.

Dear Universe, what did I ever do to you?

2009-06-08T18:32:00.005-05:00

Spring semester of my junior year of college, I took what was probably the most difficult non-Arabic course of my educational career: Schechter's international law class. I reliably showed up for the 8:30 AM class early, and in the time before class began, Schechter would amuse us early risers with little stories. One of my favorites was how as an elementary school student during the Cold War, he was assured by his teachers that on the day that the Soviet Union nuked Washington DC, the wind would be blowing away from them in Virginia. And he said that he always wondered how they could be sure of that...

But that's not the anecdote I'm thinking of right now. The one that is running through my head is one he told about his father's business travels, and how it initially struck him as odd that whenever his father returned from business abroad, the country that he'd been visiting would end up all over the news - bombs and coups and assassinations. But eventually he stumbled upon the reason for all of this: obviously his father's presence caused governments to spontaneously collapse, buildings to explode, and leaders to fall from power.

I'm thinking of that anecdote, because right now that's how I'm feeling: that my association, like that of the elder Mr. Schechter, must cause things to go very, very wrong abroad.

This afternoon, I got a call from my Country Desk Officer (or CDO, i.e. the Peace Corps person in charge of me while I'm stateside), and the fact that she started the conversation by saying something akin to "I see you were supposed to go to Madagascar originally, I hate to do this to you..." should have clued me in to just how awful the rest of that conversation would be.

The Mauritanian government has not yet processed visas for my staging class. (Similar delays are also affecting other U.S. Americans trying to enter the country; no word on how or whether this will affect PCVs currently serving in Mauritania.) I will not be leaving for Philadelphia a week from today, or Africa in nine days. My CDO, Nicole, has indicated that they are continuing to work to get the visas through, and there is talk about us leaving maybe in July, maybe in August...I'm fuzzy on the details, honestly, because I could not hear Nicole over the sound of the voices in my head screaming "No no no no no no no no no!"

I feel sick. (I feel even sicker for the people in my group who were supposed to go to Madagascar in February, who have now been delayed twice.) I wrote one other post today (which remains as yet unpublished), it was about how I finally finished packing. The thought of unpacking makes me sick, but so does the thought of looking at my full duffel and backpack sitting in the corner of my room every day for the next who-knows-how-many weeks.

And who does know? How long will it take to know for sure if we can or can't go? And if the answer is that we can't, how long will we wait to go somewhere else?

...what now?

Update on Elections, Peace Corps

2009-06-03T09:31:00.003-05:00

News that the Mauritanian elections have been pushed back - to mid-July - was leaked to the press yesterday; the BBC reports this morning that they will now be held on July 18, and that members of the opposition movement (who were previously planning to boycott the June polls) have agreed to take part in a transitional unity government. A current Mauritania PCV provided this link to a Mauritanian French-language news website, which is quite interesting...and would no doubt be even more interesting if my French were a bit less rusty.

Also, there was another nice article about the Peace Corps in the LA Times yesterday. Enjoy! (And don't forget to bug your elected representatives to support the Peace Corps if you haven't already!)

Keeping in touch

2009-06-01T09:50:00.007-05:00

This is the post you've all been waiting eagerly for...my address at training is as follows:

Elizabeth Wise, PCT
Peace Corps Office
PO Box 6862
20 Nachtigal St.
Ausspannplatz
Windhoek, Namibia

Helpful suggestions...

This address will be valid until mid-October; I'll update everyone with my permanant address when I know it.
Airmail is the most reliable way to get things to me (typically taking 3-4 weeks), so be sure to write "Air Mail" on the envelope. Ground mail is NOT reliable, and can often take up to a year to reach its destination.
If you are sending me "stuff," padded envelopes are the way to go - they are (comparatively) cheaper and much more likely to arrive intact than large parcels.
First Class Mail International (the fancy name for airmail) is the way to go - more expensive shipping options will not necessarily get there faster. I am not sure what kind of postage is needed for letters, check with the post office.
There will definitely be things that I will want sent, but above all, I want letters. Write me about what's going on in your life and include a couple of pictures!

You can also contact me via email, but please keep it to personal correspondence! I will probably be able to check and reply to my email on a semi-regular basis once I'm installed at my permanent site; internet access during training is a little more up in the air.

Back to politics...

2009-05-31T14:23:00.002-05:00

I'd be lying if I said that the fact that Mauritania is having rather contentious elections just over a week before I get there doesn't make me a little nervous. On the other hand, to paraphrase Juno, they already had a coup d'etat, what other kinds of shenanigans could they get into?

Much like Madagascar's recent political troubles, there hasn't been much about this in your local paper, but here's an article from AFP about the mediations hosted by Senegal over the past few days, and another (slightly older) article from Reutuers about the election campaigns. (Senegalese President Abdoulaye Wade was also on the mediation team working in Madagascar earlier this year.) I'm not really sure what to make of all of this just yet.

All the world's a stage

2009-05-20T09:40:00.002-05:00

Staging's in Philadelphia, starting June 15. I just got done making my travel arrangements with Sato, and the pile of Peace Corps "stuff" in the corner of my room is growing larger every day. To say nothing of the paperwork.

Yikes. I have a lot to do in the next four weeks.

FAQs Part IV: Switcheroo

2009-05-11T22:19:00.004-05:00

Wait a minute, what happened to Madagascar?
First of all, if you are asking this, you obviously recently stumbled upon my blog via PeaceCorps Journals, a Google search, or some link I left lying out there in cyberspace, because everyone who knows me in real life knows more about Malagasy politics than they ever dreamed of (or desired to, I suspect). Short version: political turmoil, less than peaceful change of power, Peace Corps/Madagascar is suspended until further notice. (Please see my archives from February-March for the long version.) I found out that my program on the Big Red Island was canceled the last week of March, and had my new assignment a few days later.

Great, so now all that stuff I learned about Madagascar is useless. Thanks.
Sorry. Here are some interesting facts about Mauritania to make it up to you.

The official name of the country is the Islamic Republic of Mauritania. It is popularly known by its French acronym, the RIM (Republique Islamique de Mauritanie).
The population, as you may have guessed, is predominantly Muslim - Sunni, to be precise. So you can hold onto all that bacon you were planning to send in my care packages.
The official language of Mauritania is Arabic, and the spoken dialect of Arabic is called Hassaniya. French is considered a de facto co-official language, and other national languages include Pulaar, Soninke and Wolof.
The Mauritanian currency is called the ouguiya (pronounced ew-GHEE-ya), and it is one of only two non-decimal based currencies in the world. (The other is the Malagasy ariary!)
Mauritania's capital, Nouakchott (pronounced new-AHK-shot), was a tiny fishing village until 1958, when it was selected to be the capital of the soon-to-be independent state. (Mauritania became independent from France in 1960.)
There are desert crocodiles. How awesome is that?

How will you dress?
Conservatively. Ankle-length skirts and dresses are standard (Mauritanian women do not wear pants, and frankly with heat like that, I doubt I'll want to, either), and I've been told that short sleeves are okay, but that shoulder and chest coverage are musts. And sandals - in Mauritania, you don't wear shoes inside the house.

Will you have to cover your hair?
I won't have to - I'm not going to get stoned if I go out in public with my hair uncovered, as more than one person has asked - but odds are that I will make use of the variety of local head-coverings from time to time. The style I'm most familiar with is the mulafa, which I am given to understand is basically a giant sheet of cloth that one wraps around her body/shoulders/head. It sounds like it can be rather cumbersome to move in, and certainly hot, but also good for keeping the sun at bay.

How hot will it be in Mauritania?
So glad you asked. Right now it is the hot season - yes, there is a hot season in the desert, also a "rainy season" - and daytime temperatures are already well over 100 F. (I think I read on somebody's blog last week that it was in the upper 110s F, and only going down to about 90 F at night.) Mauritania is north of the equator, so we'll have more or less the same seasons as all of y'all in the U.S. - only times, like, a billion. 'Cause it's a desert.

What will you eat?
Meat and rice. And meat and couscous. And maybe fish and rice and/or couscous if I'm in the south. (The Senegal River forms Mauritania's southern border.) And mint tea from little shot glasses (really) - guess I'm going to have to learn to like mint!

How will you clean your water?
Turning non-potable water into potable water is a multi-step process. The safest and most straightforward way to do it, of course, is to boil it; however, fuel options (gas and wood) are both quite expensive, which makes boiling a less attractive option. Peace Corps/Mauritania provides us with ceramic water filters to get most of the nasty stuff out, and bleach to kill what remains. Ideal, no. Safe...well, safe enough. Many people also report eventually foregoing some of the water purifying methods and just letting your body adjust. (Thanks to current Volunteers in the RIM Invitees group for finally settling this question!)

What will the electricity/internet/cell phone situation be like?
More or less the same as it might have been in Madagascar. I'll probably have access to electricity at or near my site (maybe not at my house, but probably somewhere in the area), but it might be sporadic. Access to internet may be similarly limited, although I'm told that the Peace Corps offices throughout the country do have internet. I know that I will have a cell phone, but coverage may vary. Other people make it work, and I will, too.

Where will you live?
In Mauritania, it is not uncommon for Volunteers (especially female Volunteers) to live with host families throughout their service. (We all live with families during the first three month training period.) Many Volunteers live in a smaller building or their own rooms within a family compound or house, and even those who do not live with families are frequently "adopted" by families in their communities and spend considerable with them.

Are you going to get some horrible tropical disease?
Hopefully not. Volunteers in Mauritania take the same precautions against malaria as Peace Corps Volunteers in other parts of Africa and Asia where malaria is a concern - using bednets and taking daily or weekly malaria prophalyaxis. Volunteers are also officially prohibited from swimming in most open water (i.e. the Senegal River) because of concern about waterborne pathogens. Odds are that in 27 months, at some point I will get sick from something, but hopefully nothing the Peace Corps Medical Office in Nouakchott can't handle. That which doesn't kill me will only make me stronger, right?

Is there toilet paper in Mauritania?
There probably is, somewhere, but Mauritanians don't use it and most Volunteers in Peace Corps/Mauritania don't either. A little splash of water down there does the trick.

What will you do during "that time of the month"?
Gentlemen, you may want to stop reading here; instead, please enjoy some cat macros. Ladies, let me tell you about what may be the single greatest advance in menstrual technology: the Diva Cup. The Diva Cup is a reuseable silicone cup that you insert, much like a tampon, except that it collects instead of absorbing, so you can leave it in for up to 12 hours with no risk of TSS. After 12 hours, you pop it out, rinse it with soap and warm water, and pop it back in. At the end of your period, they recommend boiling it for sterilization. I've been using mine for about five months now, and I adore it. You can learn more about it (or order your own) from Lunapads, and if you're a Peace Corps Volunteer, they offer a discount!

REI: Round 2

2009-05-04T16:29:00.004-05:00

I returned to REI with my best friend Adrien today to continue my quest for the perfect backpack. Previously, I'd looked at the REI Venus and Kelty Coyote, both 75L packs, but in the intervening weeks since that first trip to REI, I'd been thinking that maybe I wanted to invest in a smaller pack that might be easier to use for in-country and regional travel, in addition to schlepping my posessions around Mauritania. After looking at a couple of different styles, I ultimately decided to go with the Gregory Deva 70. Although it's only 5L smaller than the bags I'd been considering before, it seems a lot more compact. (When I tried on the Venus today for comparison, Adrien said "Holy cow, that is a huge backpack!") I'm happy with my choice, although having the bag in my possession (early birthday present, thanks Mom and Dad!) does not make me any more enthusiastic about the prospect of packing.

My quest for shoes wasn't quite as successful; REI didn't have the style I was interested in, but I tried on a pair anyway, figuring that I could at least get a better sense of how Keen sizes run before I ordered anything from the website. (Their discount for PCVs is sweet.) The sales associate explained to me that Keens typically run half a size small, yet just looking at the size 8 sandals he brought me, it was clear that these weren't going to come close to fitting my feet. I ended up finding the 9.5 (a whole size larger) to be the best fit, so that's what I ordered...we'll see.

Boston Globe: Budget woes test Peace Corps' mission

2009-04-21T13:48:00.006-05:00

Here's a great article from the Boston Globe about the ongoing Peace Corps budget issue and the growing pains that the organization is currently facing.

At a time when the Obama administration is seeking to repair the image of the United States around the world, an estimated 20 nations are ready to accept Peace Corps workers. But the agency can't afford to start new programs in all of them. And despite the Peace Corps' still potent image as a symbol of American idealism, reformers say the organization must make fundamental changes to meet modern diplomatic and technological needs.

Don't forget to check out the MorePeaceCorps campaign, where you can learn more about the Peace Corps Expansion Act of 2009 (HR 1066) and what you can do to support this act.

On luggage.

2009-04-15T15:02:00.005-05:00

Having exhausted just about all the existing internet resources on choosing and buying an internal frame backpack (the luggage of choice for Peace Corps Volunteers), I ventured out to the REI store in Oakbrook today to try a few packs on for size.

Per the recommendations of several current and former Volunteers, I had originally been looking at Osprey packs, specifically the Aura and Ariel models. However, as the sales guy* pointed out to me, one of the major drawbacks of those models (at least, at the capacity I'm looking at, which is 65+ liters) is that they're top-loading; in short, if you need to access something in the middle or at the bottom of the pack, you have to unpack the whole thing to get at it. Which, when I'm potentially facing a situation where I'll be living out of said backpack for 9 weeks of training, is not necessarily ideal.

I ended up trying out two front-loading packs, the Kelty Coyote and the REI Venus, both of which clock in at about 75 liters. (And, as a bonus, they're both cheaper than either of the Osprey packs I was originally interested in, even when you factor in my Moosejaw discount.) Packing them up and taking a short hike around the store really drove home the importance of packing light - even with the hip belt on and all the adjustments these packs come with to help distribute the load, 30 pounds was still a ton of weight! Wow. I'm leaning towards getting the REI pack, but I'm definitely going to try both out again before I buy. (Or rather, before my mom buys it as a birthday present for me. Thanks, Mom!)

As for my second piece of luggage, I'm still undecided. I love the idea of not having to lug a wheeled suitcase around (especially in sand), but unless I can cut my packing list way down or dramatically increase my arm strength over the next nine weeks, I do not see how I can possibly get by with non-wheeled luggage. I'm hoping that by beginning with the backpack, I'll be able to more accurately judge my additonal luggage needs in the coming weeks. (Of course, if anyone has any tips or stories to share, please do so!)

*Helpful, cute, and knew exactly where Mauritania was (as in, next to Senegal and Mali). I think I'm in love. ;)

ثلج كثير

2009-04-05T18:37:00.002-05:00

It just started snowing. Apparently, we're supposed to achieve accumulating snow overnight.

Perhaps I will appreciate snow after a few months in Mauritania, but right now I'm just wondering where I stashed my ice scraper.

It's like deja vu all over again.

2009-04-05T14:28:00.004-05:00

Gosh, I'd forgotten what it was like to not have things to blog about every single day...

My new "invitation" arrived on Tuesday, but without all the frills that came in the first one. It was literally just a manila envelope with the welcome letter, my VAD (Volunteer Assignment Description, i.e. what I'll be doing), and the visa and passport forms. I called to accept the next day, and tomorrow I'll be sending out all my work and travel documents...assuming I get them done sometime between now and then. (This past week was Spring Break for most of our local school districts, so I am feeling quite lazy after being on my feet for six very long, very intense days. According to our new "DCM Fun Facts," our staff walk an average of 6.2 miles in an 8.5 hour day, which means that this week I covered about 28.5 miles. I believe it.)

It looks like I'll be the only member of my TEFL/Madagascar cohort headed to Mauritania; Brandon and Jamie got their invitations for Benin early last week. There are at least 2-3 other girls who were in the ex-February group going to Mauritania with me, mostly for Environmental Ed or Agroforestry. And I've already linked up with several current Mauritania PCVs through Facebook, all of whom included little notes welcoming me to the group and encouraging me to contact them with any questions. How nice! I'm getting more excited by the minute. One of the Mauritania RPCVs has made up a few really cool videos about training and the Peace Corps experience there; here's one from Director Jody Olsen's visit to Mauritania in 2007 that has some really nice images of the country.

(Oh, and BTW, all of the old posts are now labeled "Madagascar," but here's an article on some of the more recent developments there. As always, don't forget to check out Spotlight Madagascar for all the news and analysis you need. I may still update on Madagascar from time to time - those posts will be labeled as such - but I'm trying to shift my focus to my new assignment.)

Couldn't be happier!

2009-03-29T11:39:00.005-05:00

Dear Elizabeth,

Congratulations! It is with great pleasure that we invite you to begin training in Mauritania for Peace Corps service.

I know that I said it was going to take me some time to accept my new assignment. Turns out, this was not entirely true. As sad as I am to be leaving Madagascar behind, I literally could not be more excited about going to Mauritania. My new assignment is also in the education sector; I will be working as an English teacher in a junior high or high school, as well as with the new Girls' Education and Empowerment (GEE) program in Mauritania. Volunteers work with the Girls Mentoring Centers that exist throughout the country on everything from education to health to extracurricular activities (like sports, debate, etc.). It's a fairly new sector for the Peace Corps as a whole (my understanding is that a similar program also exists in Burkina Faso, but I don't know of any other countries with formal GEE sectors), so I'm really excited to be a part of that.

I admit that another part of the reason I'm so excited is that Mauritania's official languages are French and Arabic, which means this is going to be a great opportunity to dust off my kutub (books) and brush up on my skills. The regional Arabic spoken in Mauritania is called Hassaniya Arabic; like the dialects elsewhere in the Arab world, it's primarily a spoken, rather than a written, language. In parts of Mauritania, especially in the south and east, African languages such as Wolof, Pulaar, and Bambara are also spoken. There's no guarantee that I'll be placed in an area that is primarily Arabic speaking, but I'm planning to use some of the Hassaniya materials I found online to start learning the language on my own...I figure there's no reason not to, goodness knows I have the free time. And if I end up learning another language on top of that, so much the better!

"Application Status Update"

2009-03-27T07:43:00.002-05:00

I didn't think that 4:15 AM auto-email telling me that my invitation has been mailed would be as exciting the second time around, but it totally is.

I'm guessing it'll arrive Tuesday or Wednesday. Thank goodness I have work to distract me for a few days!

The Word, Part Dos

2009-03-26T17:43:00.001-05:00

They're putting my new invitation in the mail tomorrow. Wow. (No word on what it is...guess I'll get to be surprised again.)

Two other members of my former cohort have been invited to Benin, departing in July.

The Word

2009-03-26T11:02:00.004-05:00

Two phone calls and an email later, and it's official: the June '09 Madagascar group is no more. As I've said before, I am saddened but not surprised, and I do believe that the Peace Corps wouldn't cancel the program unless they felt it was absolutely necessary. I've emailed my PO, now I just have to wait and see where this process will take me next.

I'll keep you posted. Here's some reading from The New York Times.

Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans.

2009-03-25T12:34:00.003-05:00

There are rumblings from above; it sounds like the June '09 invitees will be hearing some news about our status in the near future. I'm hopeful, but I'm also prepared for whatever comes next.

I talked to Alex (my former Secretary General, now a PCV in Micronesia) a lot this week while he was back in the capital for training, and it's been really great to be able to do so. Please don't misunderstand me; I don't discount all the other people in my life who have listened to me talk about Madagascar ad nauseum for the past 8 weeks, but Alex is pretty familiar with my current situation. He was originally assigned to go to Kiribati last August, before that group was canceled, and spent a few weeks in limbo until he received his invitation to Micronesia. He's been really supportive of my back-up plans and a great sounding board for some of my frustrations, which I really appreciate. (Alex posts over at A Micronesian Plum, which now has some fantastic pictures of his training and homestay. Makes me think that maybe I could handle it if they decided to send me to the Pacific...)

To quote Gregor Vorbarra...let's see what happens.

Madagascar in the News: Rajoelina Under Pressure

2009-03-23T11:59:00.005-05:00

We've seen how the international community has reacted to Madagascar's new government, but what about the citizens themselves?

From Reuters: "Madagascar leader's opponents launch protests"

Witnesses said about 3,000 supporters of former president Marc Ravalomanana, who stepped down last week after a seven-year rule, gathered in an Antananarivo park for several hours from Monday morning, chanting slogans and pledging resistance.

"I am here to show my refusal to accept the transitional government. Ravalomanana had two more years left. Why didn't they wait for elections and listen to the Malagasy people?" said schoolteacher Olga, who declined to give her surname.

AFP's report is similar:

"We see Andry Rajoelina's accession to power as illegal and the international community says the same thing," Andrianatoandro Raharinaivo, a spokesman for Ravalomanana's TIM party, told AFP at the rally.

Meanwhile, Rajoelina is standing his ground against the deluge of international criticism, still claiming that his rise to power reflects the will of the people:

"One man alone cannot build a house. But . . . the international community must know that they must respect the popular will. It's the Malagasy people who decide what happens in Madagascar," Mr Rajoelina told the Financial Times at the presidential palace he has occupied since it was stormed by rebel troops a week ago. (From Financial Times.)

Also from FT:

Mr Rajoelina said he would build ties with members of the former president's party and insisted: "All the politicians accept that I am at the head of the transition."
But he said little to allay fears that he had a plan for his government now that a section of the country's wealthy elite and a rebellion staged from a lone logistics barracks had catapulted him to power.

A few other links, provided by members of the Facebook group "Updates on Madagascar Crisis" relate how the political turmoil has affected Madagascar's tourism sector, and the natural resources that drive that sector. You can read about Marojejy National Park (in the northern part of the island) here and our favorite dancing primates here.

EDIT: Here's another article on the environmental consequences, from Mongabay.com.

Madagascar in the News: The Economic Fallout of a Political Struggle

2009-03-20T08:52:00.003-05:00

In what is potentially a victory over chaos, but absolutely a blow to democracy, Madagascar's constitutional court has declared that the transfer of power to Andry Rajoelina's transitional authority is completely legal.

According to a legal document obtained by AFP news agency, the constitutional court "proclaims that Mr Andry Rajoelina exercises the attributions of the president of the Republic as stated by the provisions of the constitution".

But according to Malagasy law, the head of parliament's upper house should have taken over after the president's resignation and organised an election within two months. (From BBC.)

In one of his first acts as president, Rajoelina has dissolved the entire legislature (National Assembly and Senate), and replaced both houses largely with members of his own party, per AHN and Al-Jazeera. He has also vowed to "fight poverty" in his country, which I suppose is a noble cause, and one which his rise to power is undoubtedly going to complicate.

Even before this news broke, the world started sounding off on the coup (or "coup") in Madagascar; to say that it's not going over well would be the understatement of the year, and it's only March. The United States has suspended non-humanitarian aid to Madagascar (AP article), as has Norway (Reuters article). Members of the Southern African Development Community have threatened sanctions, and the African Union and European Union have issued condemnations of the coup as well, with economic sanctions a distinct possibility. Madagascar has also been suspended from the AU and SADC (BBC article).

All this has the potential to add up to hundreds of millions of dollars in foreign aid and trade lost, not to mention the costs that could be incurred as a result of diplomatic isolation. Don't get me wrong; foreign aid is absolutely not the be-all, end-all solution for any country, but at this point, it's absolutely essential for Madagascar. How many of the news articles over the past 7 weeks have alluded to the poverty that characterizes the lives of so many citizens? With the national economy, particularly the tourism sector, in shambles as a result of this crisis, how on earth does Rajoelina propose to lift the people who enabled his own rise to power without foreign aid to help them along? Informal reports from Madagascar have mentioned a jump in food prices over the past two months; even before this, many areas of the country were prone to food insecurity. How long will it take before Rajoelina becomes a victim of his own promises?

Video: Coup d'etat in Madagascar

2009-03-17T21:34:00.002-05:00

Here's a video from PressTV (an Iranian English-language news network) covering today's events in Madagascar.

Let's call a spade a spade, shall we?

2009-03-17T09:54:00.004-05:00

There's conflicting information floating around out there right now, but I think we can safely say that yes, this is a coup.

BBC reports this morning that Ravalomanana has ceded power to the military, who in turn have - or almost certainly will - hand that power right over to Andry Rajoelina. Rajoelina has pledged to hold elections within the next 24 months; until then, he'll be in charge of the transitional government. Rajoelina and his supporters installed themsleves in the presidential and ministerial offices in Antananarivo yesterday, after the army took over those buildings from Ravalomanana's supporters. A related article, also from the BBC, suggests that Ravalomanana may have issued a resignation, but there are no confirmed reports.

Meanwhile, the International Herald Tribune reports that Ravalomanana has not handed over control of the country, and has "pledged to fight to the death" to stay in power. I've noticed that the reports about the crisis have become increasingly critical of Rajoelina in the last two weeks, this one is no exception:

While presenting himself as a reformer and democrat, Mr. Rajoelina appears to be trying to force his opponent out without a vote.

He has set up his own parallel administration, but his push for power is being complicated by concerns about alienating foreign powers.

As expected, the takeover of the presidential palace and other government buildings in Tana yesterday has been condemned by everyone except those who did the taking over. The European Union is reportedly threatening to cut off aid to Madagascar and to deny recognition of any new government. (No press releases from the U.S. State Department or the UN yet.) The latest press statement from the Peace Corps, posted yesterday, reports that all Volunteers are safe and that the Peace Corps/Madagascar program has been temporarily suspended, though there is still no word on exactly how long a temporary suspension will last.

EDIT: Here's the updated Peace Corps press relsease from today. I have no more details than this.

EDIT 2: It's official; Andry has been put in charge. But I totally disagree with the sentiment that this resolves anything.

Madagascar in the News: Army Siezes Presidency

2009-03-16T16:13:00.003-05:00

The title pretty much says it all. Almost a week after vowing to take over if a settlement between Ravalomanana and Rajoelina couldn't be reached, the army - which some claim is under Rajoelina's control - has taken over the Presidential Palace in Antananarivo, effectively declaring to President Marc Ravalomanana that they want him out.

Rajoelina has an interesting take on these events. From the BBC:

Mr Rajoelina told the BBC he wanted a transitional government that would organise elections in the next 18 to 24 months "at the very latest".

"It's not a military coup," he said. "But the life of the country doesn't stop. You can't have a vacuum of power."

Just so we're all on the same page, a coup d'etat is defined as "a sudden and decisive action in politics, especially one resulting in a change of government illegally or by force." A military coup, as you might logically assume, is a coup d'etat carried out by the military. If this is not a coup, someone please explain to me exactly what it is. Really. If you can tell me, I will send you cookies.

Also from the BBC, here are some of the comments they've received from people on the ground in Madagascar. This one in particular struck me, especially after reading the comments from Rajoelina posted above:

I am 35 and have experienced the struggles for power in 1991, 2002 and again in 2009. What I can say is that, except from 2002 where there were presidential elections, they all have been motivated by a too strong greed on the part of politicians. Once they are in power they forget that they have to work for the country and are only interested in enriching themselves in a short amount of time because they know they won't stay long in power...

EDIT: The BBC also has a short photo series on this (no blood, no gore) which can be found here.

Madagascar in the News: President Pledges Referendum

2009-03-15T18:39:00.003-05:00

Quick review of the past few days...

Friday (from BBC): Army, no longer answering to Ravalomanana, allegedly moves tanks into Tana. R8 warns mutineers not to try and assassinate him. Andry remains in hiding. In spite of mounting international pressure, both parties refuse to participate in negotiations.

Saturday (from BBC): We all get a sense of deja vu when Rajoelina calls for R8 to step down by 6 PM. Not surprisingly, he doesn't do so. (There are some interesting comments on this entry, so read all the way down.)

Which brings us to today...

Ravalomanana has offered to hold a national referendum regarding whether he should remain in office, according to the BBC and others. The BBC report suggests that although Ravalomanana has lost the support of the military, some are opposed to his regime's actions without necessarily being pro-Rajoelina. A related article, also from the BBC, discusses how Ravalomanana's increasing isolation is not only contributing to his loss of control, but also making a peaceful political solution to this crisis increasingly difficult to reach.

The blogs confirm that Peace Corps Volunteers from Madagascar have been evacuated and are undergoing closing paperwork and meetings before returning to the United States. Some will probably go on to serve in other countries, others may choose not to do so. I cannot even fathom how difficult it must be to be in their position. For as tough as it's been to watch these events unfold with the comparatively tangental connection I have to Madagascar, it must be a thousand times worse to be leaving friends and colleagues behind - particularly for those who now face the difficult task of adjusting to an entirely new culture, language and landscape in a new assignment. My group has had some contact from our Country Desk, but the consensus seems to be that we're hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst. Keep watching for more information, and keep your fingers crossed.

I think it's over, folks.

2009-03-12T08:41:00.004-05:00

The U.S. Embassy in Antananarivo confirms yesterday's rumors:

Due to the unstable political situation in Madagascar, the U.S. Embassy has authorized departure of non-emergency personnel and family members of Embassy employees. Additionally the Peace Corps has decided to send all Madagascar-based Peace Corps volunteers to South Africa and temporarily suspend their Madagascar program.

Also, Reuters has published an...interesting...series of "What If?" scenarios. Some of their conclusions are fairly accurate - there are not a lot of indications that TGV and R8 could work out an effective power sharing agreement, and it is absolutely true that things will not improve until they both recommit to negotiations - but as for the rest of it...I think Sara said it best:

This is a little sensationalist...From what I hear, the drama is focused in the larger cities. Doesn’t civil war have to be pretty far-reaching? No one I know wants to take up arms. Who would people be fighting against?

Friends of Madagascar, you're in my thoughts.

Wish I knew if the things I heard are so...

2009-03-11T20:00:00.005-05:00

Consolidation of current Volunteers is confirmed by the Peace Corps; there are rumors about evacuation. I think it's extremely possible - likely, even - but I lack an authoritative source at this time. We went down this same road a month ago, so I'm reluctant to accept it until I hear it from the Peace Corps. But I've also been obsessively checking the news feeds today, so even in my reluctance, I'm realistic.

Before I got invited to the Peace Corps, it had never crossed my mind to want to go to Madagascar. But for days now, I've been trying to wrap my mind around the idea that I might go somewhere else, and it's not working so well. (Which is not to say, oh Omnipotent Placement Staff, that I will refuse a new invitation, if that be your will. Just that...you'll need to give me some time to get accustomed to the idea.)

Is Military Rule Next?

2009-03-11T12:04:00.003-05:00

From Global Voices Online, here's an interesting account of how things are playing out on the ground right now, including accounts from Malagasy bloggers. All of the sources are linked, and a few are in English.

Madagascar in the News: Army Chief Forced Out, Opposition Leader Boycotts Talks

2009-03-11T09:19:00.003-05:00

Not a lot of positive news from Madagascar this morning, folks.

BBC and others report that Edmond Rasolofomahandry, the general who yesterday gave political leaders 72 hours to resolve the crisis and declared that his troops would not take sides in the conflict, has been forced by pro-opposition soldiers to hand over power to Andre Andriarijaona.

Andriarijaona suggested in a speech that his predecessor had been removed after "negotiations" among senior officers.
"Negotiations with the general were completed in the fraternity worthy of the army. Now all the corps in Madagascar are behind me, and our cohesion has not been affected," the new military chief said. (From AFP.)

(EDIT - 11:45 AM CDT - If you click on the link for the BBC article above, you'll see that it's been updated.)

Meanwhile, Rajoelina has announced that he will not take part in the negotiations, set to begin on Thursday. According to the BBC report,

He said the time was not right and the church leaders organising the talks lacked credibility, AFP reports.

Here's a video from France 24 recapping the past 24 hours:

I'm sure there will be updates this afternoon...

Madagascar in the News: Mutation of a Minor Mutiny

2009-03-10T15:54:00.004-05:00

The relatively isolated army mutiny that began on Sunday has taken on a life of its own. BBC and others report today that Madagascar's Defense Minister, Vice-Admiral Mamy Ranaivoniarivo, has resigned his post, apparently under pressure from the armed forces. Ranaivoniarivo has only served as Defense Minister for a month; his predecessor resigned after the events of Samedi Rouge (February 7).

President Ravalomanana has stepped up to admit that he has made mistakes during the crisis as well, reports the BBC.

"I wish to reiterate, stop the acts of violence. When the constitution and the republic are not respected, then the democracy and the establishment of a successful nation will be hindered," he said live on national TV.

Per AFP, mediation efforts led by the United Nations and La Francophonie have already resumed, although it's not clear if Rajoelina and Ravalomanana are directly involved in these talks. The return to negotiations was spurred by an ultimatium issued by the army this morning:

[Army Chief of Staff Edmond] Rasolofomahandry said his forces "promised not to take sides," but was ready to step in, failing a breakthrough.
"If a solution is not found after the 72 hours [Thursday], then we, the armed forces, we will take responsibility for running national affairs and protect the national interest and unity."

After more than 6 weeks of uncertainty, it's rather strange to know that we'll be seeing some sort of governmental change in Madagascar by the end of the week.

On the Peace Corps front, the decision was made yesterday to cancel the Environment program originally scheduled to leave in February. According to the blogs of a few members of this group, they had actually all arrived in Philadelphia for staging when Peace Corps staff relayed this news. I cannot imagine the disappointment they must be feeling. As of right now, our June departure remains in place, although the woman from Headquarters I spoke to this morning pointed out that they do not have a magic crystal ball to see if this will still be the case as that date gets closer. Touche, Peace Corps.

Fingers crossed. Toes too, just for good measure.

Madagascar in the News: It Ain't Over Yet, Folks

2009-03-08T12:22:00.006-05:00

A month ago, 20 people were killed and 200 wounded in a clash between police and anti-government protesters in Antananarivo. I spent the weekend glued to my Google news feed, the blogs of current PCVs in Madagascar, and the numerous Facebook groups that cropped up to keep track of the situation - and the people - on the ground in Madagascar. At that point, I predicted that if the situation was going to get worse, it was going to do so quickly, reasoning that the events that took place in Tana over the course of that weekend would either be sufficient to immediately bring about some sort of major shift in the course of the crisis, or they would not and the dissatisfaction would continue at a reduced level.

Shows how much I know.

As reported on Friday, security forces were ordered by President Ravalomanana to arrest opposition leader Andry Rajoelina at his home in Tana. This was a fairly bold move for Ravalomanana, who for weeks now has declined to arrest Rajoelina, no doubt realizing that the backlash stemming from such an arrest would be equally as dangerous, if not more so, to his control of the country than would allowing Rajoelina to continue holding rallies throughout the country and launching barrages of criticism against the current administration at every possible opportunity. Free, Rajoelina remains a thorn in Ravalomanana's side; imprisoned, he becomes a martyr for his cause.

But of course, there are more than just two directions this story can go, and it has gone a third way. IHT now reports that Rajoelina has announced that he is in hiding "at an undisclosed location until his security could be guaranteed." (Although, as the IHT article points out, this location is apparently somewhere in Tana.) His television station, Viva, which disseminated his messages condemning Ravalomanana as an authoritarian leader and criticizing his economic policies (particularly the now-infamous South Korea land deal), is off air as of today. Does this mean that Rajoelina has been frightened into backing down? Not a chance. The man has shown unwavering determination in his quest to bring down the current government, even if his methods haven't been particularly effective. Who will step up to lead in his stead, or how that new leader will play his cards remains to be seen, but this is absolutely not the last we'll see of Andry Rajoelina.

(As an aside, I think it's interesting how many articles go out of their ways to mention that Rajoelina's home in Tana is a "neoclassical villa." There's just something about that phrase that makes it difficult for me to picture the inhabitant as a champion of the common man.)

In a related development, the Malagasy military has mutinied - sort of. According to AFP reports from this morning, soldiers stationed at a base just outside of Tana have announced that they will no longer obey orders from their superiors, including President Ravalomanana, to fire on anti-government protesters. From the article:

An AFP reporter was able to access one wing of the military compound, where soldiers who refused to be quoted confirmed that the base was rebelling in protest at the regime's repression of opposition demonstrations.

Also:

The mutiny appeared to be confined to this camp as no movement was reported in any other of the army's bases around the capital and elsewhere on the island.

Previously, the Malagasy military issued a statement that they would not stray from their primary responsibility - upholding the Malagasy constitution. Personal accounts of the events in Madagascar over the past 6 weeks have suggested that the sympathies of many soldiers may in fact lie with Rajoelina, but except for the clashes between the army and protesters, in which it's always been clear that soldiers are acting under orders from higher-ups, the role of the army in this crisis has been discussed only minimally. (The AFP article describes the Malagasy military as being "reputed for its loyalist tradition.")

In some ways, this can be understood as a distinctly positive development for political life in Madagascar. Here in the United States, we enjoy the freedom to openly question that which we disagree with, and to engage in peaceful demonstrations on behalf of our beliefs. (Peaceful, of course, is the operative word here.) There is no reason on earth that the Malagasy people should not enjoy the same rights. The notion that the army's responsibility to protect does not extend to firing on unarmed civilian protesters, however numerous they may be, is refreshing, and a statement that desperately needed to be made following the events of Samedi Rouge ("Red Saturday," referring to the violence in Tana on February 7). Unfortunately, this may be as far as the message goes, given that this stand seems to be limited to a small pocket of soldiers.

(Edit: The BBC report on this story reads as follows: "A BBC reporter in the capital says a group of officers announced they would now follow opposition leader and former city mayor Andry Rajoelina." The rest of the story is taken from the AFP wire.)

Having now watched the events in Madagascar unfolding for 6 weeks, I now find it difficult to predict exactly (or even generally) what direction things are going to progress from here. It is frustrating to watch, not only from a personal perspective (I mean, of all the gin joints in all the world...), but also with an eye towards how much damage this political tug-of-war is inflicting on opportunities for real development in Madagascar. As one Friend of the Blog recently pointed out, beneficial development cannot move forward without a government committed to transparency and accountability, one which has the strength and resources to commit to sustainable development projects that are going to work from the bottom up. And really, the only thing that is certain right now is that neither Ravalomanana nor Rajoelina is prepared to commit to any of this.

Madagascar in the News: Botched Arrest of Opposition Leader

2009-03-06T22:54:00.006-06:00

I've always found the discord between the following adages interesting: No news is good news, and All press is good press. If we can assume that news and press really boil down to the same thing, then what conclusion can we come to except that it's all good?

Here is something that, although still unfolding, is probably not good. (From Agence France-Presse.)

ANTANANARIVO (AFP) — Madagascan security forces tried to arrest opposition leader Andry Rajoelina on Friday, heightening tensions between police and protestors that have already claimed four lives this week.
Several witnesses told AFP that security officials attempted to enter Rajoelina's residence overnight to detain him.
"The regime was determined to capture TGV," one official close to President Marc Ravalomanana's regime said on condition of anonymity, referring to the 34-year-old opposition leader by his nickname.
Rajoelina's private television network Viva issued an ensuing call on his supporters to rush to his residence in central Antananarivo to protect him.

It is late, and I've just fired off two rather long and involved emails about this, so let me sum up my feelings about this new development in a succinct way.

More on this tomorrow, hopefully with a little more substance...

Madagascar in the News: Police Teargas Opposition Rally

2009-03-04T21:01:00.004-06:00

Apparently, life in Tana these days bears a striking resemblance to life in East Lansing, per Reuters. Ba-doom-ching! Thanks everyone, I'll be here until August 2011.

Okay, but on a more serious note: I am hardly an expert on Malagasy politics, but it's not terribly reassuring to me that both Ravalomanana and Rajoelina have declined to continue participation in the mediation process, even if other representatives from their parties will continue the talks with UN and other mediators. However, the Peace Corps has determined that conditions are safe for Volunteers to work in Madagascar (with a few exceptions - I did read on one Volunteer's blog that a small number were being permanantly relocated to areas considered more secure). The February '09 group will be departing next week, I'm told. I wish them the best of luck, and as always, my fingers are crossed that we'll all get to serve our full tours in Madagascar.

Madagascar in the News: Talks Break Down, Protests Resume

2009-03-02T13:24:00.004-06:00

Despite support from the United Nations, the African Union, the Southern African Development Community and the French government, talks between the sitting government and Rajoelina's supporters (including meetings between Ravalomanana and Rajoelina themselves) did not yield positive results this past week. In an interview with Reuters, Rajoelina declared that he had no plans to return to the negotiating table, and that the will of the people would ultimately bring down the government.

"When the people rise up, when they make demands, the government has never lasted more than a few months before tumbling," he said at his neo-classical villa, adding dialogue was impossible while the president flouted the constitution.

Rajoelina and his supporters have called for daily protests against Ravalomanana's administration to continue. Over the weekend, two protesters were killed and 13 wounded in a clash with police in a southern city, AFP reports.

There have also been a couple of other really good news analysis pieces posted on AllAfrica.com recently. (Links courtesy of Spotlight Madagascar, a development activism group founded by two Madagascar RPCVs.) This article, by Malagasy activist Zo Randriamaro, talks about the opportunity that the current situation presents for democratic and human rights activism in Madagascar. The second, by writer Jean-Luc Raharimanana, looks at the parallels between Rajoelina and Ravalomanana, a subject which quite a few of the news articles have touched on, and the broader consequences of this for Madagascar.

USA Today: Rebuild the Peace Corps

2009-02-26T21:14:00.003-06:00

This lovely piece, by one of the board members of MorePeaceCorps, appeared in USA Today yesterday. People often ask me, upon learning that I'm going to be an English teacher, what the purpose of sending English instructors to remote areas of remote nations is, anyway. I think Mr. Shacochis provides a pretty solid reason in the article:

Even so, the day Carr and I toured the school, marveling at its solar-powered electricity and computer lab, his voice grew somber as he responded to my questions.

How many students?

Two hundred.

How many teachers?

Five.
Carr explained that the government had an uphill battle trying to staff its schools with qualified teachers.

Check out the MorePeaceCorps campagin to learn more about how Volunteers, Returned Volunteers, and other supporters of the Peace Corps are working to ensure that we can achieve a bigger, better, bolder Peace Corps under the Obama administration.

Madagascar in the News: Deconstructing a Crisis, Part II

2009-02-24T17:46:00.003-06:00

Here is the second installment in IRIN's analysis of the crisis in Madagascar. I think the article pretty much speaks for itself; it's very well-written by people who know what they're talking about.

Video: Saving Madagascar

2009-02-19T19:24:00.006-06:00

My co-worker Sue saw this piece about wildlife conservation in Madagascar on TV last night and thoughtfully taped it for me. Thanks, Sue!

(Indri lemur in Andasibe - the same conservation area they visited in the video - from wildmadagascar.org.)

Madagascar in the News: The Next Steps

2009-02-17T19:10:00.004-06:00

Things seem to be calming down a bit in Madagascar this week. Reports from Peace Corps Volunteers (as well as their families, friends and well-wishers) suggest that Volunteers will be able to return to their sites this week, and all indications are that programs in Madagascar are good to go for the coming months. Here's what's in the news...

The Associated Press reports on clashes between Rajoelina's supporters and the military in Antananarivo earlier this week. No casualties are reported from this incident.

Also this week in Tana, anti-government protesters have staged sit-ins at government offices throughout the city; according to AFP, additional protests are scheduled in the coming days.

An article from Reuters rather ominously states that the military is "ready to fulfill [its] duties" in the event that the ongoing political crisis is not soon resolved.

IRIN (the news service for the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs) has posted its first article in a series entitled "Madagascar: Deconstructing A Crisis." The analysts interviewed include researchers from Cal State, the University of Toamasina in Madagascar, and the Free University of Amsterdam, and the perspective they lend to the news articles from some of the major bureaus is really interesting. Hopefully they'll continue with this series.

Madagascar in the News: Defense Minister Resigns, Mediation Efforts Stepped Up

2009-02-11T16:13:00.003-06:00

From the Associated Press:

ANTANANARIVO, Madagascar (AP) — Madagascar's defense minister resigned in protest Monday after security forces fired on anti-government demonstrators over the weekend, killing at least 25 people.
In a statement Monday, she said her upbringing and faith could not allow her to accept "that the blood of my countrymen be spilled."

From AFP:

ANTANANARIVO (AFP) — Thousands gathered Wednesday for a pro-government rally in Antananarivo, as President Marc Ravalomanana seeks to counter opposition protests and re-affirm his grip on power.
Mahamasina stadium was packed as government supporters flocked to back the president, whose authority has recently come under fierce attack from 34-year-old opposition leader Andry Rajoelina.
A huge banner inscribed with the slogan "We don't need TGV," a reference to Rajoelina's nickname, welcomed 30,000 pro-government demonstrators who came to listen to some of the regime's stalwarts.

(A related report from the BBC indicates that there may have been as many as 40,000 at Ravalomanana's rally.)

Xinhua reports that President Ravalomanana has met with envoies from the United Nations, the African Union and France, but that Rajoelina has not yet agreed to participate in talks.

Madagascar in the News: Protests to Continue

2009-02-08T18:29:00.004-06:00

With yesterday's death toll now closer to 30 (according to most sources), BBC News reports that Rajoelina has called for his supporters to continue to demonstrate against the current government, using the violence that occurred in Tana yesterday as a rallying point.

"I tell the people that their lives, their blood was lost," [Rajoelina] said on Sunday. "(But) we cannot stop. The struggle continues,"
"The people need change," he said. "What is Ravalomanana's answer? Shots."

Another report, from the Associated Press, brings up a few important points about where the principal actors in these events fit into the larger scheme of Malagasy politics post-independence. On a related note, here's an interesting video I found with some images taken from Black Monday (January 26, the day that Rajoelina's supporters burned down Ravalomanana's television station).

(The image at 0:36, for the record, is Ravalomanana on the left, Rajoelina on the right. I think the side comment sums it up pretty well.)

Madagascar in the News: 20+ Killed at Protest in Tana

2009-02-07T17:44:00.004-06:00

They've been reporting it since early this morning, although the details are still scarce.

More than 20 people (reports vary on the exact number) were killed today, and over 83 wounded, when soldiers opened fire on a crowd of Rajoelina's supporters as they marched on the Presidential Palace in Antananarivo.

CNN's report has a few good comments from people on the ground in Tana, and the Associated Press has more details on the bad blood between Rajoelina and Ravalomanana.

No word - official or unofficial - from the Peace Corps on what this means for Volunteers currently in-country or for those of us scheduled to go to Madagascar in the coming months.

Madagascar in the News: The Putsch that Wasn't

2009-02-06T18:47:00.002-06:00

Dear Sirs,

Here is another excellent article on the events in Madagascar, courtesy of The Economist, for your reading pleasure.

Regards,

Liz

Madagascar in the News: Rajoelina Replaced as Mayor

2009-02-04T16:03:00.008-06:00

Well, the official news from Madagascar is that as of yesterday, Andry Rajoelina was officially relieved of his duties as mayor of Antananarivo; a move that is legal according to Malagasy law, in spite of the fact that Rajoelina was popularly elected to the post. Mismanagement of city services, including transportation and sanitation, were cited among the reasons for Rajoelina's removal, in addition to his role in the heated anti-government activity that has swept the nation for the past week. (In a counter move, Rajoelina, who considers himself to be the current President, has appointed a former government minister to succeed him as mayor, per the New York Times.)

Rajoelina maintains that he will instate a transitional government beginning on Saturday, but according to a Reuters report published today,

Analysts say Rajoelina has successfully tapped into widespread frustration with the government, but may have over-played his hand in trying to overthrow the president.

This is basically consistent with the sense that I've gotten from both official news reports and the informal reports and comments provided by the friends of Madagascar (including PCVs and RPCVs) in the Facebook group "Updates on Madagascar crisis," which has been a great source of information about the situation as it's playing out on the ground. If you're on Facebook, I encourage you to check it out. The impression I'm left with is that although many people are disillusioned with Ravalomanana's government, Rajoelina is not necessarily viewed as being the leader who will resolve those concerns, as is evident from the fact that his supporters have been coming out in lower and lower numbers all week.

I learned today that Rajoelina's nickname is "TGV," which is either because of the slogan he associates with himself, "Tanora Gazy Vonona," which means "The youth of Madagascar are ready," or because he is fast like the high-speed trains in France, the TGV. (Although there are a few people from Michigan who have said that Rajoelina is really more like an Amtrak train - he goes really fast for a while, and then gets stuck easily for long periods of time. And if you're in East Lansing, blocks traffic all the time, hah!)

It has been reported in both this group and the blogs maintained by Volunteers currently in Madagascar that Volunteers have been evacuated from several cities throughout the country where violence and looting are still rampant. The Peace Corps has issued an updated press release on the safety of Volunteers and staff in-country, which is available here. Members of the group which was scheduled to depart for Madagascar this month tell me that they've been pushed back a month to allow the political situation to settle and the Peace Corps Madagascar staff to better prepare for their arrival.

Keeping my fingers crossed for everyone...

And now for something totally different...

2009-02-03T22:05:00.004-06:00

CNN reports that Hillary Clinton's first official trip as Secretary of State is taking her to Asia, with confirmed stops in China, Japan and South Korea. Clinton also plans to make at least one stop in Southeast Asia; possibly Indonesia, where she hopes to reopen Peace Corps programs (which were closed in 1965) in the coming years.

Of course, before the Peace Corps can even think about reinstating programs, the organization desperately needs the support of the Obama administration to resolve the current budget crisis. Here's hoping that this is indicative of a big boost for the Corps in the next few months!

(Don't worry, I have more to post on the events that transpired in Madagascar today. But I'm going to save that for tomorrow.)

A News Update, and Some Opinions of My Own

2009-02-02T16:51:00.027-06:00

From the New York Times, probably the most comprehensive article I've read on the subject so far:

ANTANANARIVO, Madagascar — Mayor Andry Rajoelina, who over the weekend claimed he was now running this island nation, had a disappointing first Monday in “power”: the ministries he ordered closed remained open; the civil servants he told to stay home came to work; even the children he allowed to skip school studied at their desks.

Having failed to assume power as planned, Rajoelina is now pursuing the impeachment of current President Marc Ravalomanana - a tactic unlikely to get him anywhere, according to the NYT article, given that Ravalomanana still has the support of most of the legislature, even if his popular support isn't overwhelming. That Rajoelina is pursuing constitutional means for a regime change is heartening but given the political reality that he faces and his reputation as something of a firebrand, I'm left wondering what will happen if the legal channels fail to deliver his desired result. Previous reports (such as this one from the Associated Press) have stated that Rajoelina has the support of Madagascar's military forces, but his shows of popular support have been steadily decreasing since early last week.

Ravalomanana and his administration have been accused of being out of touch with the public, unsympathetic to the fact that millions of citizens live in poverty. Particularly controversial was the deal that was struck (or discussed, reports vary) between the current government and the South Korean Daewoo corporation, which would have placed a 99 year lease on 3 million acres of Madagascar's land to that corporation, effectively "making Madagascar the bread basket of South Korea." The extent to which the deal ultimately progressed and the beneficiaries of the plan are unclear from news reports. What is clear, however, is that news of the lease plan, which surfaced in November 2008, has not been well-received by the public, and has almost certainly contributed to Ravalomanana's low approval ratings. (Les Afriques published a particularly interesting article on the subject of African land leases last week, which is available here.)

A sort of equilibrium seems to have been regained; in addition to the reopening of schools, businesses, and government offices in Antananarivo, the rally Rajoelina held in the capital city today was reportedly attended by fewer than 3,000 people, only a fraction of the number who attended the demonstrations that took place last week. Yet in spite of the decrease in violence and disruption, it doesn't seem that an actual solution to the grievances of either party is any closer. The United Nations, the African Union, and the U.S. Department of State have called for Rajoelina and Ravalomanana to engage in dialogue; thus far neither has taken steps to do so.

Whether such a dialogue would be likely to be productive is difficult to say; both Ravalomanana and Rajoelina are characterized as being strong personalities, and a history of collaboration or common views between them is not mentioned. As a student of diplomacy and negotiations, I am inclined to believe that reasonable dialogue between parties cannot worsen a volatile situation; however different the processes and outcomes, all reconciliations begin the same way, with all parties agreeing to take steps in the same direction. As a student of the particular political history of Madagascar, I am admittedly less well-studied, but I'm learning more everyday, and I know that arriving in country in June will be the best learning experience of all.

What is clear to me, though, is the direction in which Rajoelina and Ravalomanana need to be walking: towards the people of Madagascar, both those who support them and those who don't. As long as there are people whose basic human rights - to food and water, adequate sanitation and medical care, housing and education and security - are not being effectively met, that is the direction the government needs to go, regardless of who runs that government. It is true for my own country, it is true for the country that will host me for the next two years, it is true for every country on every continent in the world. And it is just as true, worldwide, that to walk that road most effectively requires the government to travel side-by-side with those individuals who have committed to going in that same direction. Come June, it's the direction that I'll be walking.

Madagascar in the News: Opposition Leader Declares Himself in Charge

2009-01-31T19:25:00.003-06:00

Updates from CNN...

The head of the opposition to Madagascar's government took to the streets Saturday, declaring himself the nation's leader after a week of violence and looting that killed at least 83 people and wounded more than 300.

Andry Rajoelina, mayor of the capital city of Antananarivo, called on supporters to demand the resignation of President Marc Ravalomanana and said he plans to give orders until a transition government can be established. (Source: CNN)

Jamie, one of my fellow future Volunteers, tells me that the U.S. Department of State has issued a Travel Warning for Madagascar, effective until May 1. At this point, there are no updates from the Peace Corps beyond yesterday's press statement, and no indications that programs won't go as planned. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Madagascar in the News: Protests in Tana

2009-01-30T15:33:00.003-06:00

My friend Lindsey, who is a Peace Corps Volunteer in Mozambique, sent me this article on Monday.

"Anti-government protesters in Madagascar have looted and set fire to the offices of the state broadcaster in the capital Antananarivo." (Source: BBC News)

Clay provided a similar article from the International Herald Tribune, and the discussion amongst several of us destined for Madagascar in June prompted me to look out for follow-up articles.

A BBC article from Tuesday (Jan. 27) informs us that 20 burned bodies were found in a looted store following Monday's protests. A Reuters article on Wednesday (Jan. 28) stated that the death toll had risen to 40, and both the U.S. Department of State and the African Union have issued statements urging both President Ravalomanana and Antananarivo Mayor Andry Rajolina's supporters to "resolve the current crisis through dialogue and respect for constitutional order and legality."

Now, for the part that I'm hoping will reassure you. Although the State Department has issued a statement on the violence, they have only issued a short-term Travel Alert for Madagascar at this time, rather than a Travel Warning. (You can view the official statement here.) There are a number of countries currently on the Travel Warning list where Peace Corps Volunteers are serving, so even being moved up to the next category doesn't necessarily mean that my service will be affected in any way. News reports don't indicate that there has been any additional violence today.

Finally, the Peace Corps has issued a statement on the situation in Madagascar and the safety of the Volunteers currently serving there, which you can read in full here.

WASHINGTON, D.C., January 30, 2009 - The situation in Madagascar was calm today throughout most of the country although tensions continue. Peace Corps Madagascar has been in regular contact with all Volunteers, who remain on stand fast as a precautionary measure. All Volunteers in Madagascar are accounted for and safe.

Peace Corps staff in Madagascar are working closely with the U.S. Embassy to carefully monitor the situation. They will, if necessary, take appropriate actions under the Peace Corps/Madagascar Emergency Action Plan. The safety and security of Volunteers is the number one priority of the Peace Corps. (Source: Peace Corps.)

So the answer to your question is yes, I'm still going, as long as they're willing to send me.

The Huffington Post: Kennedy's Kids Then, Obama's Kids Now

2009-01-26T15:41:00.006-06:00

(Photo by Erica Burman of the National Peace Corps Association; obtained from Peace Corps Connect.)

Here's an article that appeared in the Huffington Post last week, written by the Rajeev Goyal, the National Coordinator for the More Peace Corps campaign. The discussion boards have been buzzing about what the new administration means for the future of the Peace Corps since last Tuesday. Obama's made a lot of promises to the Peace Corps community about what kind of future the organization will have under his administration, and while it's still early (I liked Stephen Colbert's comment last Wednesday: "Obama's been President for one day, and the economy still sucks. Some change!"), I'm proud that I get to be one of "Obama's kids."

I knew that we were now Obama's kids being ushered in by Kennedy's kids. I knew then that President Obama is going to do something great for the Peace Corps.

Madagascar in the News: Cyclone Season

2009-01-23T20:38:00.002-06:00

My co-worker, Lisa, tipped me off that Madagascar has had a couple of cyclones make landfall this week. Thanks, Lisa!

From The New York Times:

A powerful cyclone, with winds of up to 130 miles per hour, hit the west coast of Madagascar on Wednesday, destroying buildings, flooding large areas and cutting off thousands of people, officials said. Casualty figures were not released. Last year, cyclones in Madagascar, an island nation, killed more than 100 people. (Original article.)

A report from the International Herald Tribune (by the Associated Press) states that there are 9 known casualties from Cyclone Fanele, and that over 4,000 were left homeless in Morondava, the regional capital of Menabe in western Madagascar. Another cyclone, which hit the eastern part of the island on Monday, killed 1 and left about 1,000 homeless.

Here's a map courtesy of Google Maps. The pinpoint is Morondava. If you scroll east a bit, you'll see the pinpoint for Antananarivo (the national capital), as well as Antsirabe and Fianarantsoa, which are both regional capitals.

View Larger Map

The Huffington Post: Obama's First Betrayal?

2009-01-18T19:23:00.004-06:00

One of the guys from the Facebook group posted this article today about Peace Corps being left out of Obama's new stimulus package. It's not great news, that's for sure, but I do have to applaud the incoming administration for including increased funding for AmeriCorps in the plan. I have a number of friends currently participating in AmeriCorps programs all over the country, doing everything from community disaster education to strategic planning to literacy building, and I think that the programs and participants have a lot to offer communities in the United States. I also truly believe that including funding for AmeriCorps demonstrates that Obama will stand behind his pledge to encourage and enable people in this country - of all ages and from all backgrounds - to serve at home and abroad.

If you aren't able to make time to serve tomorrow, pencil yourself in for something next weekend or later this month. Those of you who know me know that I hold onto the notion that one vote, one voice, one individual can make a difference, and there's no time like the present to start!

Peace Corps Timeline

2009-01-12T18:59:00.004-06:00

A few people have posted their personal timelines to some of the online forums or their own blogs. Here's mine.

October 2007: I start seriously contemplating the Peace Corps while stuck in traffic in downtown Cairo.

January 2008: Back to school for my last semester. I finish the fill-in-the-blank portions of my online Peace Corps application, but get a little overwhelmed by the essays. I resolve to take a few days to think about the essays and then come back to them. In the meantime, I submit the names of two of my recommenders. My boss, Paul, submits his recommendation less than a week later. Thanks, Paul!

February 3, 2008: I attempt to finish my application before the "priority" date of February 4, and fail to do so.

Early March 2008: While home on Spring Break, I pitch the idea to my parents, who are less than enthusiastic about it.

March-April 2008: My nearly-complete application sits on the back burner while I attempt to keep my head above water during my last semester of undergrad. I thought senior year was supposed to be fun...

May 2, 2008: I graduate from college. At the post-ceremony reception, my professor says, "Wow, Liz, this is the first time I've seen you all semester where you look like you got enough sleep the night before." This might sound vaguely insulting, but it's actually pretty accurate.

May 2008: Time for all that fun stuff I didn't do all semester!

June 2008: People start asking me how the job search is going. I take this as a hint that maybe I should start one. This lasts about...3 weeks? Maybe 4?

Late June 2008: I start badgering my remaining two recommenders to submit their letters. I FINALLY finish the personal essays for the application.

July 16, 2008: I have my interview at the Peace Corps Chicago regional office. My recruiter is a lovely woman who served in El Salvador. At the end of my interview, I am nominated for a TEFL program in Francophone Africa.

Late July 2008: I receive my medical and dental packets from OMS. Appointments are a little hard to come by, and are set for late August.

August 27-September 22, 2008: 2 doctors appointments, 1 dental check-up, 4 shots at the county health clinic, 1 TB test, 4 vials of blood for 8 tests, 1 periodontic consult, 1 oral surgery, 2 follow-up appointments, 3 fillings, and 1 epic battle with the staff at the dentist's office, and my medical and dental packets are completed and submitted. (Basically, I spent every day that I wasn't at work in appointments, occasionally 2-3 per day.)

October 1, 2008: Dental paperwork kicked back because we forgot to record that I was having fillings done.

October 4, 2008: Resubmit dental paperwork.

October 15, 2008: Dentally cleared.

October 17, 2008: Medically cleared.

October 18, 2008: Oh my God, I'm medically cleared. They are actually thinking of sending me to another country. Are they crazy? Am I? Am I ready for this?

November 17, 2008: After bemoaning the inevitable onset of another Midwestern winter, I implore Placement to send me some news of my invitation.

November 19, 2008: ToolKit update. I've been invited. Commence elated anxiety.

November 22, 2008: Invitation to Madagascar arrives via USPS, although not soon enough to save all my coworkers from my displaced anger. I'm sorry!

November 24, 2008: Call to accept my invitation.

November 28, 2008: Submit my aspiration statement and resume. Turns out I'm pretty well-qualified for this gig. Who knew?

December 1, 2008: Submit my visa and passport applications. I am hoping that my new passport will provide me with Class IV Diplomatic Immunity (covering everything short of outright murder), but we'll see.

Dental time-to-clearance: 8 business days from submission of completed packet
Medical time-to-clearance: 19 business days from submission of completed packet
Clearance-to-invitation: 21 business days to mailing
Received invitation in: 4 days (via USPS)

...but wait, there's more!

March 12, 2009: Peace Corps temporarily suspends operations in Madagascar, but indicates that they hope to be able to send my staging class in June.

March 26, 2009: Phone call from Madagascar Country Desk informs me that the June 2009 staging class has been canceled. Later that afternoon, I get an email from my Placement Officer indicating that she's identified a new program for me and is putting the invitation in the mail.

March 27, 2009: I learn in an email from the Country Desk that my new invitation is to Mauritania. Sweet. I call to accept and submit the necessary paperwork within a week.

April-May 2009: All is well in Liz-land. I buy a ton of stuff, do Rosetta Stone like its my job, and revel in my impending departure.

June 8, 2009: Phone call from Mauritania Country Desk informs me that due to visa procurement issues, we will not be leaving in a week as planned. They hope to send us over sometime in August.

June 24, 2009: My staging class for Mauritania is officially canceled.

June 30, 2009: I receive an email from the Country Desk Officer for Namibia with my new VAD attached, and immediately start reading up on Namibia to determine the likelihood that its government will collapse before my mid-August departure date.

About Me

2009-01-11T19:45:00.003-06:00

So this post is mostly for those who are visiting my blog through Peace Corps Journals or the Facebook group...
I graduated from James Madison College at Michigan State University (Go Green!) in May 2008 with a BA in International Relations and not the faintest idea of what I wanted to do with that degree. I engaged in a rather half-hearted job search for about a month after graduation, and during this time it became apparent to me that the only jobs anyone was going to hire me for primarily involved filing papers and making copies - essential duties, certainly, but ones which were not going to provide me with a significant number of useful skills to carry over to my future employment, or any personal satisfaction to speak of. It was at that point that I turned my attention seriously to finishing my Peace Corps application (which I'd started back in January, before school took over my life).

During college, I held a host of various interesting positions, including research assistant on a French linguistics project, Foreclosure Prevention Assistant (simultaneously working to take away/help you keep your house), phone caller/envelope stuffer for Governor Jennifer Granholm's (MI) re-election campaign, movie ticket vendor, cafeteria worker, and external relations guru for MSU's high school Model United Nations conference. I studied French and Arabic at MSU, and spent a semester living and studying at the American University in Cairo. (This experience is the subject of my other blog, The Desert and the Sown.)

I currently work at the DuPage Children's Museum, where my job responsibilities consist of playing with small children, cleaning up toys, and giving people directions to various places around my hometown of Naperville, IL. I also teach ESL through an organization called World Relief, which resettles refugees in the United States and helps to provide the services they need in order to thrive in this country. My students are from Burma, Albania, Ethiopia, Ukraine, Russia, and Mexico. They are wonderful.

I love celebrity gossip, cheddar cheese, The Office (US), and fireworks. I do not love bratwurst (or other compressed meat products), heights, and mint-flavored anything. I believe that world peace is possible and that proper refrigeration of food is really, really important. I have a feeling that my time in the Peace Corps may relieve me of the latter of those notions.

FAQs Part III: Life Abroad

2009-01-07T10:46:00.007-06:00

(Part I in my FAQ series is available here, and Part II is available here.)

Will you have internet?
It’s highly unlikely. Most Volunteers worldwide rely on public internet cafes for their ‘net needs. How often I’ll be able to answer email depends entirely on how far I’m ultimately located from an internet town and the cost of getting there from my site. Lindsey, my friend who is a PCV in Mozambique, keeps in touch through a mass email list (which is updated by herself and her parents).

Which begs the question – how are you going to update this blog?
Once I get closer to my departure, I’ll probably pick 2-3 people to be team members for this blog. Basically, these will be people to whom I’ll write letters (and hopefully mail pictures via a flash drive), and who I’ll ask to spend a little time each month posting that correspondence to my blog and Flickr site.

What about a cell phone?
Most Volunteers have cell phones, and so I’ll probably have one too. How often I’ll be able to use it will depend on the cost of international phone calls and whether or not I’m able to get a reliable cell signal at my site. I will make sure to update everyone with my phone number so as to satisfy your need to hear my lovely voice.

So how can I contact you?

Seriously, though, I’ll have a mailing address during PST and at site where you can write to me. Please do!

What kind of house will you live in?
Volunteers worldwide generally live either in their own houses, or in their own set of rooms within a family or organization compound. In Madagascar, it's most common for education Volunteers to live on the local school compound, or at least within walking distance of the school. Odds are that my house might consist of 1-2 rooms. Even rural villages in Madagascar usually have electricity for at least a few hours per day, but I may or may not have running water. The Peace Corps allots Volunteers enough money to fix up their houses (make necessary repairs, buy essential furniture, etc.) at the beginning of service.

Will you have indoor plumbing?
All signs point to no. In fact, odds are high that my latrine (along with the rest of my bathroom) will be outdoors. However, I’ve been told by other Volunteers and visitors to Madagascar that many Malagasy have chamber pots in their homes for use at night. (Evidently, there is a popular superstition that one need watch out for witches after dark, although I can’t say that I’d be wild about going outside to take care of business in the middle of the night regardless.)

How much will you be paid?
My salary is estimated at approximately $150 (U.S.) per month. This probably doesn’t seem like a lot, even for a developing country, but remember that I’m expected to live in the same manner as others in my community – which means that if it’s enough for them, it should be enough for me.

What will you eat?
Rice is a staple of the Malagasy diet. Vegetables, such as tomatoes, carrots and onions are also common in Malagasy cuisine, and meats such as chicken, beef and pork are eaten. Apparently I will have my pick of fruits throughout the year as well - apples, pineapples, bananas, mangoes, etc. I am very excited about this prospect.

How will you deal with starving people in your area? What will you say when they ask why you have food and they don't?
Please don't base all your assumptions about Africa on news clips about refugee camps. (Or that commercial about how you can support starving orphans for just $1 per day...you know the one I mean.) That's not the kind of place I'm going to be living. My expectation, which has been supported by other Volunteers I've talked to, is that people in my community won't always have a lot of food, or large houses, or access to modern medical care. But they also won't be emaciated, living in cardboard boxes, or dying daily in droves, either. The living standards of my community in Madagascar - and by extension, my own living standards - won't be the same as they are in the United States, but there are a lot more intermediate steps between suburban Chicago and squalid slums than network news would lead you to believe.

Are you going to lose tons of weight?
Statistics tell us that most female Volunteers gain weight during service, while males tend to lose weight. A lot of Volunteers report gaining more weight while living with their host families during training (because the way to a Volunteer’s heart is through her stomach, right?), but little to none once they begin living (and preparing meals) on their own. Personally, I’m inclined to think that I might lose weight, at least initially, simply because of the way my body tends to respond to major dietary change (I lost 16 pounds while I was in Egypt).

Do you get to take vacations?
Yes. I accrue 2 days of vacation per month, although I can’t use any of it for my first 6 months in-country (3 months of training + first 3 months at site). You can save up your vacation days and use several months’ worth to take a major trip, and you can also use vacation time in advance. In most countries, in-country travel doesn’t count against your vacation days, so I will be able to visit other Volunteers at their sites as well. Travel within the country for Peace Corps business also doesn’t count against my vacation days. However, since I’ll be teaching in a Malagasy school, my ability to take vacations will be limited by my work (since missing school days is highly discouraged).

YouTube: Madagascar's Route Nationale 6

2008-12-20T18:57:00.000-06:00

My mom sent me this video about the construction of Madagascar's Route Nationale 6, which runs from Antananarivo to the northern tip of the island. Of course, the video was produced by Caterpillar to showcase the company's contribution...but it's still a really interesting video!

Signs?

2008-12-18T10:11:00.001-06:00

A year ago today, I came home Cairo. Six months from today, I will leave for Madagascar.

It still boggles my mind that I'm now a year out of Egypt. There is not a single day that goes by that I'm not reminded of the experience and of how much it changed me as a person. And it's really strange to think that in just six months, I'll be going through the same kind of changes again - learning to get by in another language, navigating new streets and a new culture, occasionally wondering if I'm in completely over my head. But it will be different this time, not only because Madagascar is going to present its own unique set of challenges, but also because when I do have those days where I think I made a wrong turn somewhere, I can look back and remind myself I've done this before, and I can do it again.

And of course, I'll have people to get through the good days and the bad with me...whether they're actually there or not.

FAQ Part II: Liz in the Peace Corps

2008-12-17T13:13:00.002-06:00

(Part I in my FAQ series is available here.)

Where are you going and when are you leaving?
On November 22, I received my invitation to serve as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Madagascar. I leave for staging (pre-departure orientation in the U.S.) on June 15, 2009 and will leave for Africa on June 18, 2009. My pre-service training (or PST) will take place in or near the capitol of Madagascar (Antananarivo – “City of a Thousand Warriors”), but I won’t know my exact site placement until about halfway through PST.

So you’re going to speak French?
Yes, as well as Malagasy. These two languages, along with English, are the national languages of Madagascar.

Why aren’t you going to an Arabic-speaking country?
The Peace Corps only works in two Arabic-speaking countries – Jordan and Morocco – and less than 4% of volunteers are placed in this region, so even with an Arabic-language background, my odds of securing a nomination in this region were slim. The Peace Corps also has a desperate need for people who have a French language background, largely because French is only the official language in many African countries – people speak it in large cities and in government circles, and that’s about it. Since I’m already proficient in French, I’ll be able to jump right into learning Malagasy and thus gain greater proficiency. While it’s true that I would have loved the chance to continue my Arabic language learning during my service, I know that it’s something I can continue on my own and pick up again formally in graduate school.

What will you do there?
My primary assignment is Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) and English as a Foreign Language (EFL) Teacher Peer Support. I will teach English in a Malagasy CEG (junior high school) or lycée (high school) and provide support for Malagasy English teachers. However, PCVs often take on secondary and even tertiary projects in other areas (health, community development, environment, etc.). Most Peace Corps Volunteers in Sub-Saharan Africa undertake projects related to HIV/AIDS, which you can imagine is a critical issue in many countries and communities.

Are you actually qualified to do that?
Yes. I taught and tutored English while I was an undergraduate, including while I was in Egypt. Currently, I am volunteering as an ESL Classroom Aide with World Relief in Wheaton. Outside of my literacy activities, I’ve been pursuing courses and related volunteer activities with the American Red Cross.

Why do people in Madagascar need to speak English?
The Malagasy government declared English the country's third national language - after Malagasy and French - in the mid-1990s, and since then, English has been a compulsory subject in Malagasy schools beginning in CEG (junior high). Madagascar has sought stronger ties to Anglophone countries, including the United States and the United Kingdom, as well as Anglophone African nations.

My cousin/neighbor in Philadelphia/roommate from freshman year joined the Peace Corps, and she ended up marrying a man she met in her host country.
Good for her.

Is that why you’re joining?
Did you pursue the opportunity that led you to meet your spouse/significant other for the express purpose of finding someone to marry? If yes, then I’m glad to hear that things worked out for you. But I don’t think that it would be very responsible of me to commit 27 months to living and working in a developing country simply to land a man.

All joking aside, what made you decide to join?
I started tossing around the idea over a year ago, while I was on study abroad in Cairo. Living in a foreign country, especially a developing one, really opened my eyes to the kind of life I live in the United States – but even more than that, my experiences abroad showed me what I personally have to offer to others. I actually spent about two months looking for jobs in the U.S. after I graduated in May 2008, but quickly found that most of the positions I could conceivably be hired for weren’t attractive to me. I want to spend some time doing something hands-on, and the Peace Corps seemed like an ideal place for me.

FAQ Part I: About the Peace Corps

2008-12-15T17:30:00.000-06:00

What is the Peace Corps?
The Peace Corps was founded in 1961 by John F. Kennedy as a way of promoting international peace and development. It is a U.S. government entity, the purpose of which is threefold: helping the people of interested countries in meeting their need for trained men and women, helping promote a better understanding of Americans on the part of the peoples served, and helping promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans. You can read more about the history and mission of the Peace Corps here.

Where does the Peace Corps go?
Peace Corps Volunteers serve all over the globe – in Central and South America, the Caribbean, Eastern Europe, Africa, North Africa/Middle East, Central/South/Southeast Asia, and the Pacific. Learn more about the different regions the Peace Corps serves here.

What kind of work do volunteers do?
Volunteers work in a variety of areas, including business development, agriculture, environment, education, health and community development. The specific duties of each volunteer vary greatly from country to country, and even within individual countries! Many volunteers also assist with projects outside their primary assignment. For example, my friend Lindsey is a Community Development Promoter in Mozambique, working on HIV/AIDS awareness programs, but she also teaches English in her community. You can learn more about these programs here, as well as the requirements to become a Volunteer here.

Isn’t it dangerous?
No more so than the United States. Think about it: any type of crime that could conceivably befall a Volunteer abroad could also happen to that person back home. Medical screenings and preparation ensure that Volunteers will have access to care in their host countries and will know how to proceed if they should fall ill. In cases of political turmoil (for example, in Kenya last January and Georgia in August), Volunteers are evacuated as deemed appropriate by the Washington, DC office. You can learn about safety by clicking here.

So you won’t be going into the middle of a civil war?
Being a Peace Corps Volunteer is not like being a United Nations Peacekeeper (the people in blue helmets you see in all the photos of conflict zones). As previously mentioned, Volunteers don’t serve in countries where the political climate could put them in danger. If you will forgive me for saying so, the Peace Corps is operating under the idea that “the opposite of war isn’t peace, it’s creation.” Volunteers work with their communities to foster positive peace and development, rather than just the absence of war.

Is joining the Peace Corps the same as becoming a missionary?
No. The Peace Corps is a government-run program, and as such, religion does not play a role in Volunteers’ work.

How do you pronounce “corps”?
“Corps” is a French word, so it’s pronounced like an apple core, not a dead corpse. It is always written with the final “-s”, even though it is a singular term.

One of the lucky ones.

2008-12-10T17:49:00.000-06:00

There's been a lot of talk lately about how the current economic situation is affecting the Peace Corps. (Although if you weren't looking for that information, you probably wouldn't find it. Here is one article I found from the San Francisco Chronicle, and here's another one from the LA Times that I've seen reproduced in a few places.) In fiscal year 2008 and 2009, the Peace Corps is anticipating a budget shortfall of up to $18 million, which is due primarily to the falling value of the dollar worldwide. The discussion boards on Facebook and Yahoo! are full of prospective volunteers who have seen their service delayed; Sub-Saharan Africa has been hit particularly hard, with some people who were nominated for September '08 departure dates still waiting for invitations. More and more people are being rejected outright, and told to acquire additional volunteer or work experience before even applying.

I literally cannot describe how lucky I am to have received my invitation so quickly - or at all.

At the time of my interview, in mid-July '08, there weren't specific requirements to obtain a nomination for TEFL, although applicants were required to have 3 months of teaching or tutoring experience by the time of their staging (pre-departure orientation in the United States). About 3 weeks after I was nominated, someone posted to one of the message boards that her recruiter refused to nominate her for TEFL until she had 3 months of experience. Now, I'm seeing people posting saying that recruiting offices are looking for candidates to have up to 6 months of experience in order to secure a TEFL nomination. (I will have 9 months of continuous EFL teaching experience by the time of my departure, in addition to my previous EFL/literacy teaching experience over the past two years.)

Even if that's not being enforced across the board, the trend is definitely towards having more experience at the time of nomination, rather than applying and gaining experience while you wait to clear medical and dental. There have also been a fair number of woeful postings on the message boards by people who submitted applications and were told to gain more experience - both in work areas and in leadership positions - and reapply in 6 months to a year. I can't speak to whether or how often this happened in the past, but the consensus seems to be that the simple act of securing a nomination is becoming much more difficult, and that even with a nomination, nothing is certain until you get your invitation.

A couple of the girls who post regularly on the message boards are going through some rough patches with Placement right now; a post by one who got some bad news about her departure (pushed back at least 4-6 months) is what really got me thinking about this. My heart goes out to all of them, because God knows that it very well could have been me, too. One might ask me what I did to get so lucky, and the answer is - honestly - I don't have the faintest idea. At my interview in July, I told my recruiter that I had the intention to find a volunteer teaching opportunity - but at that point, neither of us knew whether I would find one, or if I would pursue it. I told her that I had the intention to take a French class - but again, that was only a plan at that point. Plans change.

While working on my resume two weeks ago, I was surprised to see how much relevant experience I had. From my current perspective, I'm an extremely well-qualified Invitee. I suppose that was equally true three weeks ago when Placement saw fit to extend me an invitation, but I don't know how true it was five months ago at my interview. And given that I had no contact with Placement prior to receiving my invitation, I don't know what led them to choose me when they did. But I do know one thing: my invitation is everything I could have hoped for. Rereading the materials in my invitation kit, I get more and more excited about how I'm going to be spending my service. The 24 hours of panic that I experienced after I cleared medical and this became that much more real haven't resurfaced. I'm not saying for sure that it won't - 6 months is a long time yet to wait and anticipate - but the fact that I am more confident everyday in my choices and my opportunities suggests to me that there's something right about this, even if I don't know how I was lucky enough to get to this right place.

Did I call it or what?

2008-11-28T16:37:00.000-06:00

At Jennifer's birthday party...

Hiroki: (to the bartender) She's going to Madagascar.
Bartender: Oh my God! Like the movie? With the talking animals?
Me: Yes, exactly like that. *Takes shot.*

Later...
Me: (to the other bartender) I'll have a Miller Lite, please.
Other Bartender: Sure.
Bartender: Ask her where she's going!
Other Bartender: Where are you going?
Me: Madagascar.
Other Bartender: Like the movie! With the talking animals!