British Holidays

Oh, the horrible blogger that I am! If I had a penny for every blog that had been composed in my head, but not typed and posted … I’d have a few pennies.

So, several people have asked about my trip, so I’ll summarize it here. Since I tend to be long winded, I’ll try to give titles to sections so you can read what you chose.

London

I was looking for peaceful affordable accommodations near town. I was picking the brain of every person with a bit of British travel experience in them and coming up dry. I decided to email the Sivananda Yoga Centre in London, cause I know that the one in New York has some accommodations for passing Sivananda students. They said they had none, but recommended a B&B close by. I emailed the B&B but they were full and recommended a friend of theirs. It wasn’t clear to me if the friend was also a B&B or just someone willing to take in a boarder. Either way, it was affordable, reasonably close to town and sounded peaceful.

So, I arrive and guess what? It turns out it’s a couple that lived most of their lives in Zimbabwe! They had just moved to the UK when things got bad in Zimbabwe. They got sick of the UK after a couple years and tried to live a few years in Cape Town but decided they preferred London. So they moved back and there they are. They are not a B&B, but were fantastic hosts. We had long conversations on Zim, South Africa, Namibia… it was fantastic! I didn’t feel like I was renting a room, I felt like I was visiting old friends. It was also fascinating, to talk to white Zimbabweans. They made a lot of statements that made me cringe, but I learned a lot.

Other than that, I wandered around London, saw lots of the typical sites, blah blah blah. Ate lots of good Indian food. Went to a massive bookstore and enjoyed being able to browse a wide selection of books. Went to a yoga class at the Sivananda Centre, became a yoga consumer and bought a bunch of fun stuff.

Heather’s House

After two days in London, I took the train to my friend Heather’s house. She is married to a Brit and has two very cute kids. I kept laughing that her son speaks with a British accent. (Her daughter is not yet speaking) He says things like, “But Mummy, I don’t want to my trousers!” (in a very British accent) I asked her if it cracks her up too and she said yes, and that he has intensified her British accent cause she keeps repeating what he says. Anyway, he was the most adorable polite 3 year old that I think I have ever seen. He actually thought I was cool and liked playing with me! He tried to help me quite a bit. When he saw my chipped nail polish he pulled out his medical kit. When he saw my empty deodorant, he threw it away for me, but only after clarifying about 20 times whether it goes in the trash bin or recycling bin. I spent a day at Heather’s before and two days with her after the retreat. When I was visiting afterwards, we went to Cambridge and wandered around cause its reasonably close to where they live.

Cambridge – random thoughts

It was really interesting for me to visit England. It seems I’m normally visiting countries that are recovering from colonization. I’m used to critiquing the negative impacts of colonization and rolling my eyes at the influence of western culture and language on the indigenous population. Visiting England, I couldn’t help but keep thinking, “Wow! This was the heart of imperialism. Everything I’m looking at was built because they made a bunch of money from their colonies!” Then we went to Cambridge and it suddenly hit me how Western forms of knowledge became defined there and valued over indigenous forms of knowledge. It was so interesting to wander around these buildings and think of all the ideas that originated their, all the ideas that devalued the knowledge of most of the Earth’s inhabitants.

But then, jumping to Portugal quickly, it was fascinating to wander around Lisbon and think about how it also benefited from colonization, but where is it now? Its Portugal for goodness sake. Brazil may be doing better than Portugal itself. Fascinating stuff.

The Retreat

So, then I came to the 10 day silent Vipassana meditation retreat. People keep asking, “So how was it?” The short answer is “interesting”. The long answer you’ll have to meet me for tea to get and discuss. I had been wanting to do one of these for a long time as I have had several friends do it and it sounded so interesting. Even though I knew that it was a 10 day meditation course, teaching a specific meditation method, my mind was focused on the 10 days of silent meditation part of it all. While this new method was interesting, I don’t think its my thing. It was fascinating though to observe the mental games my mind played as I told myself this isn’t my thing, I should just run away, and then told myself to stay. I’m glad I stayed, I learned a lot about myself, my meditation practice and got some interesting ideas from this style. On the morning of the 10^th day, we started talking. It turned out I had very cool roommates. It was really neat to talk to them, discuss our experiences, our thoughts, our reasons for coming, etc. It was also cool, they seemed to have set up the rooms by age, so all my roomies were 30 somethings.

Lisbon

Lisbon was beautiful. I wandered all over the city for a day. It was much warmer than the UK which made me very happy. Can’t say much more; I was only there for a day.

Photos

I posted some pictures on Facebook. I don’t feel like uploading them here too and it says that even non-Facebook people can view them. Let’s try. http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=56507&l=09a89&id=678707741

Christmas Plans

Really, my life here is just not all that interesting, thus I haven’t posted in a long time.

But I just booked plans for Christmas so I thought I would let you all know. I got a ticket to London (it was free with frequent flyer miles :-) ). I’m going to attend a 10 day silent meditation retreat from the 20^th of December until the 31^st. I’ve been wanting to do one for quite sometime and finally the timing worked out. I figure excuses will always be there for not doing such a thing, but now is a good time to just do it, rather than making the excuses.

I’ll arrive there a few days early and tour London for a couple of days. Then I’ll go visit my friend Heather who lives a couple hours from London on the way to the retreat. After a day with her I’ll head to the retreat. I’m thinking I’ll want something quite mellow afterwards, so London on New years probably doesn’t meet that requirement. I’m thinking of either staying near where the retreat is, (it’s a little sea side town called Sheringham) or head toward Stonehenge (if I’m hippy enough to meditate for 10 days, I should be hippy enough to go to Stonehenge for New Years) and be mellow there. I leave on the 2^nd.

For no extra charge, I was able to get an extended layover (22 hours) in Lisbon on the way back, so I’ll get a quick glimpse of Lisbon. (Seems I’m getting quick glimpses of lots of European capitols this year!)

So, if anyone has recommendations of budget accommodations in London, Sheringham, Stonehenge, Lisbon or anywhere else near these places that they recommend, I would appreciate it. Or if there are other things you think I would enjoy more than what I’ve laid out, let me know.

So, back to Namibia. I’m driving a car now. See photo. Yes, it’s a double cab pick up truck. It belongs to a friend of mine who is completing his PhD at Michigan. He wants to return to Namibia when he finishes it, so I agreed to babysit for him until he comes back (probably June 2009). I only drive it when I’m going someplace that I would otherwise take a taxi for, but its amazing how convenient it has been. I’ve attended a lot more talks and shows and things that I otherwise might not have because I didn’t want to be hassled getting a taxi. I’m going to take a few days off next week and go camping at Waterburg plateau (a national park) and its nice to be able to take off and drive myself to such things.

So, finally one other important thing. My favorite yoga teacher is moving to Canada. :-( She’s stopped teaching. I’ve been shopping for a new teacher and have been attending with two teachers for the last few weeks. I like them both okay for different reasons, but really preferred the one that is moving to Canada. I’ll probably chose one of these two after a bit, but for now, I’m still liking them both. This is part of the reason I haven’t started teaching yoga again since I got back, cause I’ve been too busy attending classes.

But, my favorite has told me that she is going to connect me with the Iyengar Yoga Institute in South Africa so that I can go through their yoga teacher’s training course. It’s a 3 year course that can be done through distance education with a couple of trips to Johannesburg each year. I’m not sure how it will work with my schedule, but I’m quite eager to do it, so I’ll try to make it work if at all possible.

The students this semester have been really wonderful. They are very positive and really try to make the best of everything. There is a better male/female balance and even a bit of racial diversity. They come from a wide variety of socio-economic backgrounds and several have traveled internationally quite a bit more than Sarah Palin as well. They aren’t shy to express their viewpoints in class and we’ve had a lot of really interesting, lively class discussions. You can read their perspectives on the program at: http://cgenamibia.blogspot.com/ Yes, it’s a class assignment, so they do get graded for it. There should be a new posting every week, so it should be more interesting than my blog.

That’s about all I can report on for now. I’ll try to think of something more thought provoking next time. Bye!

Final Thoughts...

My first year is nearly finished. It's really flown by, and if I've learned nothing else, its that I'm not the blogger I thought I was. Sorry about my very erratic blogging nature.

I'm leaving on the 27th to come back to the States for holiday/work. I'll be back in Namibia on the 7th of August. Let me know if anyone wants any souvenirs or needs me to do any courier work or anything.

This most recent group has given me a lot to think about. Three people from this group ended up going home early (one week early on a three week trip with no refunds) because it just wasn't what they expected. I'm really not clear on what they didn't like. Its not like we were sleeping in cock-roach infested mud huts with marauding cannibals around or anything. They made the decision to leave when we were staying in a decent hostel in Cape Town doing things like seeing Robben Island, hanging out at the V&A Waterfront and taking the cable car up Table Mountain. Its not clear to me what the problem was.

But I do have inklings. While I do lead groups of North Americans on trips around Nambia/South Africa, I consider myself to be someone who works in the education field, not tourism. The organization I work for has a social justice mission. In my mind, my job is help people open their eyes to poverty, oppression, human rights abuses, etc, view them critically, examine their own lives and the connections between their life and the lives of the people they are meeting and take some sort of action. One of the signatures of the organisation I work for is the reflection sessions. The participants are encouraged to reflect on the experiences they had and discuss their thoughts as a group. This should help them move beyond guilt, to a feeling of empowerment from which action can take place. Guilt and pity are not particularly useful emotions. But a feeling of connection, understanding and empowerment to take action can make a difference.

Many in this group of students couldn't seem to get beyond their feeling of entitlement. "But I paid $4500 for this trip! I have a right to stay in a fancy hotel."(not an actual quote, more of a sentiment) But this one is an actual quote and going down in my book of all time favourites, "I came here to learn about poor Africans, not live like one!" (This while staying in a very comfortable house with hot water, electricity, wireless internet...) One thing I learned about myself during this trip, is that when I've thought about privilege before, its always been in a context of completely unearned. Particularly when I look at my life. I was born into a financially stable, supportive middle class family in the midwest of the United States which valued education and hard work, and included the benefit of free tuition to a top-ranked university. What did I do in my life to earn all these benefits? I was born there. Sure, one might argue, I had to study hard in high school to be admitted to college, I had to study hard in college to graduate ... but yeah, really, I was born super lucky. So, for me, privilege is a concept I can relate to a lot. When I see people living in the informal settlements in Cape Town, I see very little separating me from them. Who would I be if I was born there? What if I was born without a family to give me values? What if I was born with a family that valued my physical beauty above all else to make sure I could attract a rich husband to provide for all of us? Would I have "risen above" all this and decided that I actually valued education, found money somewhere, found a decent school somewhere, found someplace safe and quiet to study, studied hard, and gotten a scholarship to university? Maybe. But it would have been a totally different game than the one I played. That's the way I see my privilege.

So, many of the participants on this program had parents or grandparents that had immigrated to the United States and had worked hard so that their daughter or granddaughter could attend this small private college. They felt a strong sense of entitlement with their social status, and saw little reason for learning about people in other situations. I realized that their life story was so different from mine, that I quickly felt that I was in no place to speak about privilege with them. I sort of gave up. In hindsight, there was certainly a lot more commonality there than I recognized. I think I felt a certain sense of "white guilt" and felt "who am I to comment on the Latino experience in LA?" Maybe they have earned the right to pretend like there is no poverty in South-Central.

But then I heard comments like, "I know about poverty. I grew up in Bangladesh. My father started 3 orphanages to help the poor. I don't need to be here cause I already know about poverty." Um, yeah. But did you ever think critically about where poverty comes from? Or where wealth comes from? Or why their exists such massive gaps between rich and poor within one country, or even one city? Did you ever wonder why your father is starting orphanages, and why you are not living in one?

I'm not sure what the participants on this travel seminar got out of it, particularly the 3 that left early. They saw some lions, an elephant, and lots of zebras. They met some people who participated in South Africa's liberation struggle and have been trying to figure out where their youth went ever since and what to do positively with their adulthood. They met some Americans who have all the answers to Namibia's development problems and just need the government of Namibia to see the light and implement their solutions. They saw some crazy large bugs, and learned that Amarula tastes great. Did they get anything else out of the trip? I don't know.

I learned that I don't think I will ever get stale in this job. It will never become "same old, same old". I will always learn more and be challenged more. But I also see why the job tends to have a high burn out rate.

See you soon!

Xenophobia

Greetings from South Africa! Yes, I am traveling around South Africa (Cape Town specifically at the moment) with a group of 20 students from LA. Its certainly an interesting time to be in South Africa, particularly in the role of "responsible adult". Its an interesting group as well - primarily first generation US citizens, mainly of Mexican and Central American descent. The xenophobic attacks certainly hit close to home for them. I was intending to post a long post when I got back, but I'm processing a lot right now and needed to think out loud, so I ducked into an internet cafe. I only have a few minutes left though, so I'll keep it short.

This group is amazing! From people who grew up in South-Central, to people who grew up in Beverly Hills, to people with parents who were Contras, to people whose parents were filthy rich and immigrated to the United States when they needed major surgery and just decided to stick around.

Four students chose not to go along with the regular itinerary yesterday because they wanted to go shark diving for US$300. Although they could have gotten a ride back from us, they opted instead for a taxi which charged them at least $60. The taxi driver made them think armageddon was coming and that they were sitting ducks in our little hostel. As they were already frustrated by the lack of a private bathroom and the bunk beds, one elected to take a taxi and book herself into the Sheraton. Oh, my. So much for the lessons about privilege. Many of the other students were laughing at them, thinking they are ridiculous and that the accommodations are fine, and that clearly the attacks are only in the townships (where we are not staying, but did visit, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.) However, another group of us went to a nice peaceful demonstration encouraging the government to take more action. It was very beautiful and inspiring.

Today however, we saw a large group of people, mostly men hanging out on a corner. They were foreigners seeking refuge near a police station. We stopped and talked to them for a bit and they explained how the police were doing nothing for them and they were afraid for their lives and trying to find transportation back to their countries. "Back to Zimbabwe?" I couldn't help but think. Oh, dear. It was a really sad situation. One asked me to please do whatever I can for them, contacting the media or whatever I can to notify people of their situation. I promised him I would. So here I am. The closest thing I have to the media. The police simply is not doing enough to stop the violence and people are sleeping on the streets and have nothing. I couldn't help but think how many times these people had probably been refugees in their lives. First to come to South Africa, now to leave South Africa.

Anyway, my time is up, I haven't proofread, but I just wanted to process out some quick thoughts. Certainly more to come later.

HUGS HUGS and BIGGER HUGS

Another Semester Over

Its amazing how quickly time flies. I seriously keep intending to post more often, but there just keep being things I would rather be doing with my time than sitting in my apartment staring at my computer screen. Last week I had my hard drive and the SIM card (part of my cell phone) crash at the same time. I then told people around me that from now on, immediate face to face communication was all I would engage . Okay, so it was a bit of an exaggeration, but a nice thought nonetheless.

So, I went to Mbanjanda's wedding a few weeks back. I got a lift from my former principal and had a really nice time. I got to see several old friends that I hadn't seen yet. Its amazing how old friends just keep popping up. Just when I think I've finally seen everyone, someone that I haven't seen since 2002 or 2001 pops up. Its pretty cool. Anyway, so here are some photos. Its so nice having a digital camera. It used to be that everyone would ask me to take their photo and it would make me angry. Now I can just click away at all these random drunk people and I know I can delete it later. So, in this first photo, I was trying to get a picture of Mbanjanda and me when I gave him my wedding present. But random drunk man with a large quantity of raw meat jumped in the picture. The next photo is of me and Mbanjanda dressed up for the occasion. Next, we have a random condom truck that was at the wedding. It made me laugh that someone drove a condom truck to the wedding, so I took a picture. Next, we have me and my principal. Mbanjanda told me that I only had to dress up on Saturday and that jeans would be fine on Sunday. Never ask a man such questions. Everyone was totally dressed up on Sunday, and well, I looked like a tourist. The final photo is the closest I ever got to meeting the bride. That's her under all that white stuff. I introduced myself to her like that. Mbanjanda said that she remembers "meeting" me.

So, it was an interesting semester. It was awesome not to have my former boss around. However, this semester the students were more challenging. They complained everytime things weren't to their liking. My favorite quote was one student compaining when the internet went down for a few days, "If I knew the internet here was unreliable, I never would have come on this program." Hmmm, nothing like getting out of your comfort zone.

So, I was stressed out a lot this semester, trying my derndest to make everything to their liking and getting almost no appreciation or recognition for my labors in the process. Finally, this past week, as the students were preparing to leave, I heard such things as, "Oh, my gosh, I had the most amazing time." "You all were amazing." "Thank you so much for everything, its been incredible." "I love you, you rock. " "When we were complaining, now I see that it really wasn't that big of a deal. Now that I can see everything in hindsight, it all makes sense and I'm glad everything worked out exactly as it did." "I'm going to miss you!" So, suddenly I'm feeling like what felt pointless before actually bore fruit. Most of the students did actually get quite a lot out of the program, and I feel good. I think its just something I'm going to have to remind myself of next semester and let the complaints roll off my back a bit better.

So, what is it the students got out of the semester? The last thing we assign for the students is something called "the integrative projects". With very few guidelines, using any creative media they chose (poetry, collage, short story, painting, photos, drama...) in small groups or singly, they put together something, which integrates the various themes they picked up on from all of their classes. Some of them were absolutely amazing. These kids were so creative, so talented, and found ways of expressing, what I have had the hardest time expressing in my blog. As I was grading them, I found myself giving really high scores to people whose project basically said, "I don't know. I'm confused. I now have more questions than answers, but I'm struggling to understand." A few people's projects said something more to the effect of, "I get it. Here's what you taught me, and now I'm repeating it back to you. This is what I learned." I tended to grade those much lower. The biggest thing I wanted the students to understand from the semester is that the world is complicated.

Don't spit back to me what I said to you. Digest it, mix it around with your life experiences, and then offer me something new that incorporates your life experiences. Let us both grow from our shared humanity, confusion, involvement on the planet, our desire to do something about the suffering on the planet, our ignorance about what to do.

Time for my shameless plug the night before the Indiana primaries. The more I thought about this, I realized, this is what I love about Obama. Most politicians and news networks want to help us understand the very complicated world we live in, by simplifying it. This is good, that is bad. That is why I, as a politician, support the good stuff, and will do all I can to get rid of the bad stuff. Its all quite simple actually.

But no, its not that simple. And that's what my students understand for the most part. They came here expecting to learn that apartheid was bad, independence is good. Yes, apartheid was bad, but by golly, it built the economy of these countries. Nujoma freed Namibia from the oppressors, but by golly he oppressed people in the mean time. Mugabe is a lunatic and needs to be removed. The US has said that if Tsvangirai is allowed to be president, and promotes free markets, they will reward him with large aid packages to help him rebuild the economy. Great! Free markets are great for everyone aren't they! It wouldn't happen to be US based neoliberal economic policies that got Mugabe into a position where he was unpopular in the first place and felt the need to redistribute farms to gain popularity? And the students met white Afrikaans speaking people, who benefited from apartheid, that they liked. What? Afrikaaners were all supposed to be evil, how could they like these individuals?

The world is complicated. If your news source gives you 10 second soundbites, you are not getting the whole story. If someone says, "God Damn America." Listen to the 10 minutes before and after that to understand that people of different races experience life in the United States very differently from other races. If listening to the entire speech makes you uncomfortable, welcome to the real world! The world of complexities that can't be boiled down to good and bad. The world that Obama recognizes is complex so he doesn't try to simplify matters. He's a man that can not be taken in 10 second soundbites. You need to listen to the entire speech. Just like Rev. Wright. Listen to all that he had to say and then walk a few miles in his shoes. The situation can only improve by listening to each other and trying to understand each other, recognizing that we will never really understand each other. But that by ignoring and pushing away people that make us uncomfortable, we will never learn and grow and come to a place of greater understanding and compassion. Silence will not solve any of the problems of the world. A true yearning for understanding, love, respect, even through our differences is the only real hope we have.

And, I think some of my students caught a glimpse of what I mean by that - and I feel good about that. They feel unsettled. As do I. As I believe we all should to some extent.

I'll get off my soap box now.

My Best Friend's Wedding

As usual, huge apologies for not writing earlier. Lots has happened, I've been busy, lots to talk about, but I won't try to make up for lost time. I'll just summarize. First, I'm starting to get caught up at work. Secondly, I finally have internet at home, so I'm getting caught up on emails as well. I was planning to wait till I was caught up on emails before posting to my blog again, but then... I changed my mind.

So, work has been pretty good. Still learning lots. Confronted by new challenges of all different kinds at all times. I'm still in a certain state of euphoria over my previous boss's resignation. But, the new group of students have brought their own challenges, other various variations also bring new challenges and new opportunities for learning. I like to think I'm embracing it all, but some of it I resist, and then later try to embrace. One of my friends from grad school, Evan, is now working at the center, so that's loads of fun. Its cool having him around, and sometimes it weirds me out to have someone who knows me in two different contexts around. I think of myself as having a Namibia life and a Massachusetts life and its sort of strange that Evan knows me in both settings. But cool too.

The yoga with the Rastafarians has gone through a few permutations. We now have a venue that we use every Monday night. Most of the Rastafarians have lost interest, or disappeared for one reason or another. There are some new people coming now who are students at UNAM. I also was chatting with a friend who knows some people who are opening a Wellness Centre in Katutura and would like to have a yoga teacher there, so I'm optimistic that that may come to fruition and then I'll just move this group there and hopefully get some new people there as well. More to come on all of that...

Remember all the Grade 6 boys that used to hang out at my house? I've reconnected with almost all of them now. I keep wondering if I will recognize them, but each one that I meet looks exactly the same to me. I keep thinking that going from ~13 to ~20 years old, they may have changed drastically. But they all still look like 13 year olds to me, possibly on a slightly larger body. One is studying at UNAM. One is at the Polytech. One is trying to rewrite his Grade 12 exams. Yesterday I was walking through Zoo Park when I heard someone yell, "Miss Linda!" I was laughing to myself, because there is only a small group of people who would yell "Miss Linda". I looked around and finally saw one of my Grade 6's that I haven't seen since Grade 6, nor really thought about. It was funny to walk up to him and his name rolled right off my tongue without thinking, "Mbinomujame! How are you?" Amazing that such a name stuck with me. He was one of my less favorite kids. I asked him what he was up to and he said "Nothing." Sad thing is, its very true. Apparently his grade 12 scores were too low, so he doesn't feel like trying to rewrite, he can't get a job. He's really up to nothing. As much as I rephrased the question, it kept coming back that he's really not doing much. His eyes were bloodshot and yellow, which looked like he may be doing some things not worth mentioning. Alas, the complexity of Namibia.

Speaking of being called "Miss Linda". I hang out with Kafunda from time to time. I went out with him and some of his friends the other night. He asked me if he still has to call me, "Miss Linda" or if he can just call me Linda now. He's 24. I suppose since we are friends, and I'm no longer in a position of authority, he could just call me Linda. But that just sounds weird. I sort of avoided the question and didn't really answer. Later in the evening, one of his friends was trying to get my number. I turned to Kafunda for advice on whether or not to give it. His answer was, "I have my mom's number. If you need to get a hold of her, you can always contact me. I need to take care of my mom." So, we started referring to each other as mom and son. That's why the following night when Mom and Pop called when I was at Kafunda's braai, and I handed the phone to him he said, "Is it my grandmother and grandfather?" I was confused at first, but then figured out what he was saying. I love that I have a protective son. He also cooks well - learned it all from his mother.

Its amazing that the longer I stay here, the more I feel like I'm just scratching the surface of Namibia. I feel like I'm constantly digging deeper and deeper into the culture, politics and history ... and loving it. Its fascinating. And as I dig, I learn more about myself and the States. I wanted to try to convey the complexity of Namibia here, but don't know how well I'm doing. I've had this website recommended to me, and never had fast enough internet to watch videos until now. (My internet is still not amazing, so I have to watch the videos slowly.) I'm impressed by this guy's ability to start to convey some of the complexity: http://www.mynameisbill.com/travelproject/archiveindex.html He was apparently in Namibia May 23, 2007 - June 8, 2007. I haven't watched all the videos yet. But each individual video shows a few aspects of Namibia, but watching them all together, starts to give some indication of the complexity.

Today is election day in Zimbabwe. Now that is a complicated situation. November 2009, Namibia will be having elections. A few months ago a new political party was launched in Namibia. It has gained a lot of support, even though it doesn't really have a new platform, they are just saying that they will do what SWAPO has promised, but failed to deliver. Now SWAPO is trying hard to regain support. It may be too late. However, they may try to cling to power. The people may get upset. I've heard a lot of comparisons made to Zimbabwe and Kenya. It will be a very interesting year and a half and election. We shall see. I'm learning so much! There are lots of Zimbabweans in Namibia. Its fascinating to ask them their view of the political situation in Zimbabwe. Each one has a different view. Each one has a different view on Namibia's future as well. Truly fascinating times.

But now, let me get to the topic at hand. Mbanjanda is getting married in 3 weeks. I sent an email to some of you to tell you, but then I got a bunch of questions back, so let me try to just explain it here. Okay, when I was here before, he had two girlfriends, Ripure and Delia. Ripure lived in Tallismanis and Delia in Windhoek. I liked Ripura a lot more than Delia. Ripure is beautiful, intelligent and fun to talk to. However, Mbanjanda always said that he would marry Delia. Delia is his cousin, which would make the family happy. Ri is actually from a different subtribe of Herero, which would make the family and the ancestors less happy. At weddings and when babies are born and other important events, an elder male goes to the holy fire and tells the ancestors whats going on and asks advice if necessary. The ancestors would be very pleased if he married Delia cause they know her ancestors, they would probably be okay with it if he married Ri, cause they might be able to conceptualize her ancestors. I used to jokingly ask what the ancestors would say if he tried to tell them he was marrying me. He said they would freak out. If you marry a non-Herero, you don't tell the ancestors.

Okay, so time passes. Delia goes to the UK for work. While there, she gets pregnant and marries a Brit. Mbanjanda has two babies with Ri. The first one, is prized by all. Mbanjanda is the first born in his family and so his first born is adored. Traditionally, the paternal grandparents have the right to raise a baby if they so chose, and no one can really argue. I believe maternal grandparents are next inline and way back there somewhere inline would be the parents themselves. (Incidentally, I've been told that I must have children. When I point out that its too much work to raise a child alone, and I haven't met anybody suitable for the role of "father of my children", I've had it pointed out that if I were to have a child with a Herero father, most likely his parents would be so enthralled by this "white" baby that they would insist on taking care of it and I wouldn't have to worry about it. When I then ask what the point in having a baby is, if the paternal grandparents are going to raise it, I get the same old answer, "Cause you MUST have at least one!" I've sometimes thought about that. What would it be like to have a baby that grows up on a Herero farm, and speaks English as a second language. I picture taking the baby to South Bend in the summer and visiting his/her cousins, and not being able to communicate with his/her maternal grandparents. Interesting thought.) So, anyway, Mbanjanda's mother took his first daughter and is raising her. The second daughter is living with Ripure in Tallismanis. I believe Mbanjanda visits them often and takes care of his daughter's material needs. Mbanjanda says that he and Ripure broke up, but based on the way they interacted when I was visiting, I'm guessing they are not completely broken up. A few years ago, Mbanjanda started dating a different cousin, who's name I always forget. This one lives in Otavi which is very far from Tallismanis. She also has a 4 year old daughter. She is the one that Mbanjanda will be marrying. When Mbanjanda gets married, she'll probably move to Gobabis, which is about 2-3 hours from Tallismanis. She's not really interested in living in Tallismanis. So, very little will really change for anyone. If Mbanjanda does have girlfriends in Tallismanis, or elsewhere, he'll probably continue to. His new wife probably knows this deep inside, but probably doesn't dwell on it. I think many Namibian women don't really expect that their husbands are faithful, but they just don't want things to happen in front of their face. I've sort of gathered this from trying to talk to Namibian women, but its not something that comes out clearly. I often get sort of a, "Yeah, but what else can we do?" sort of answer on this topic. The kids' lives won't change significantly, Mbanjanda will have someone to stay with whenever he's in Gobabis. His wife will probably go out and visit Tallismanis sometimes. So, his first baby will probably be at the wedding with his mom. I don't know if he'll take his second baby to the wedding. The first one I believe is in Grade 1 now. The second is less than 2 years old. Delia may come from the UK to the wedding. She was planning to, but I don't know if she'll make it. Ri will probably definitely not come to the wedding nor be invited.

When Mbanjanda decided to get married, he told his father. His father talked to her family and started discussions. Discussions centered on the bride price (in cash and cattle). Once everything is agreed upon and the whole of her family (mostly the men but including many uncles and extended peoples as well) is content, then the bride's family sets a date. Mbanjanda hinted to them that doing it during the school holidays would work best for him, so he thought it would either be this May or next August. He was just notified on Wednesday that it will be on April 18th (start of the school holidays). That's fairly short notice. Usually there is a bit more. There's not much of a "ceremony" in the western-church sense, but there is a huge event. People will converge on the bride's farm for several days of meat eating. The bride will hang out in a room somewhere with her head down. I think Mbanjanda will get to just hang out and eat meat, but by no means see the bride. There is a reasonable possibility that I'll never meet her. I've only been to Herero weddings when I've been a friend of a friend of the bride, so I don't know if the groom's friends get to see her. I assume I'll probably be hanging out with Mbanjanda's sisters the whole time. The meat fest will be punctuated by little traditions like the paying of the bride price, all conducted without the bride present. At the very end, she'll come out of her room and hop in a truck with Mbanjanda and go to either his farm or his father's farm, I'm not sure which one. So, its not like I'll have to sit in a pew and which the two of them declare their undying love for each other, but the marriage will certainly take place. They may or may not bother getting the government to officially recognize their wedding. A lot of people don't bother with legal certifications and all that. As long as everyone in the community knows that they are married, what difference does it make if the state recognizes the wedding. I knew someone who got a divorce, and it was also a long process involving the community, but not the government. They had all sorts of meetings with all sorts of elders discussing the complaints of all involved and trying to find a resolution (from what I'm told, I didn't attend any of the meetings) and eventually agreeing that the couple should divorce.

I saw Mbanjanda a few weeks ago, and he told me he would be getting married soon. I gave one final plea for him to consider Ripure. I admitted I hadn't met the current girlfriend but told him how much more I liked Ripure than Delia. I talked about how you could have an intelligent conversation with Ripure, but Delia wouldn't talk. He said, "But you know how us African men are. We like women who talk ... but just enough." Implying that he likes a passive wife, and not one like Ripure who has and expresses opinions. So I jokingly added in, "Ah-ha, so that's also why you are not marrying me." "Yes, that, and the fact that I don't want to get stuck in the States. I would miss the Namibian sun and meat too much." He still talks to Delia regularly and apparently she laments that she hadn't thought about how much she would miss Namibia when she decided to marry a Brit. So, Mbanjanda has similar fears of marrying a foreigner now.

Okay, on a lighter note, let me end with a funny story. I was driving through Katutura around sunset last night, after dropping some people off. I didn't think much of it, then I suddenly got this thought, "hmmm, I'm a white woman, alone in a former black township at sunset on a Friday night. If this was 20 years ago, this might be really dangerous. Some people might think its dangerous now. I feel okay. I might feel less comfortable if I was walking." I got into a right turn lane. (NB: Right turn lanes are sort of like left turn lanes for people who drive on the other side of the road.) I suddenly realized that the car in front of me was stopped far from the light with no one in between. I was confused. Then I realized it was a taxi waiting for a passenger. I didn't feel like trying to maneuver the big old combi around the taxi, but I was sort of wondering how long I would be sitting there. Finally, the passenger got in and the taxi pulled up to the light. Then the driver opened the door. Passengers hop in and out of taxis all the time, but I rarely see the driver open the door, particularly when stopped at a light, so this sort of startled me. The driver waved. I assume it was a wave of, "Sorry to hold you up back there." And I assume that the window doesn't open, that's why he had to open the door. Taxis typically aren't maintained that well. I started cracking up. Sometimes I just love Namibia. Taxi drivers get a bad rap, but sometimes people are so friendly.

Okay, I think I have, however briefly, updated you all on my life and answered all the questions about Mbanjanda's wedding. I hope to have more pictures next time, particularly after Mbanjanda's wedding. Much love and hugs!

Om, Happy New Year, mon!

So, I’m so excited about what I did for New Year’s Eve, and what my plans are for New Years Day that I feel the need to share with my blog community. (Its actually New Year’s Eve evening right now, and I’ll probably just go to sleep soon, rather than stay up, but my afternoon was amazing.) So, let me step back to yesterday.

I was a little depressed yesterday for reasons I won’t go into here, so I decided I needed to go out for a walk, and sit in Zoo Park and read for a while. So, I go to Zoo Park, sit down, and next thing I know I’m surrounded by Rastafarians. Let me explain. Rastafarians tend to hang out in Zoo Park for whatever reason. Foreign white female tourists seem to have a tendency to like picking up a Rastafarian boyfriend for the duration of their stay. They also often seem to like smoking ganja. So, I wasn’t sure which they were coming to offer, but I needed some cheering up, so I was happy to make pleasant conversation with them (not smoke ganja or acquire a boyfriend). So what topic came up? Yoga!!! (after I made it clear that I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend – ganja didn’t come up) It seems that there was a Congolese Rastafarian who did yoga and had taught them all some yoga, and they were intrigued and keen to learn more. I was blown away. Most people that I’ve met haven’t heard of it, and if they have they think its either some strange cult for satan worshippers, or just something weird for contortionists (I suppose similar ignorance exists in the US too.)

So, let me digress for those of you who aren’t aware. Yoga in Namibia is extremely expensive to the typical Namibian. The prices are comparable to US prices (~US$10 for a 1.5 hour class.) I’ve met a few people who have sounded kind of interested in possibly trying it sometime that have been completely turned off by the price. I believe strongly that yoga should be free and widely available to the masses. It should not be this elitist thing only for suburban women in spandex like it often tends to be, both in the States and Namibia. I have dreamed about teaching free yoga classes in Namibia (yes I’m a yoga missionary in disguise), but starting it up seemed like so much work. How would I tell people about it? Would there be interest? Where would I teach? Would I have time? Would people like it? So, I’ve put it on the backburner.

So, but here I am chatting with these Rastafarians who are really eager to learn more about yoga, and who definitely can’t afford a US$10 class. So, they aren’t sure where this Congolese guy is, but I tell the one who is particularly interested that I’ll lend him some books until I get back from South Africa, and then we can try to get together with the Congolese guy when I get back and make some sort of arrangement.

So, today I go to Zoo Park to show some books to this guy and another guy is also there, and we all get chatting, so they give the Congolese guy (Omar) a call. He says he would love to come meet us, but he can’t afford taxi fair (~US$1). So I tell him I’ll pay for it and eventually he shows up. We all chat for a bit and discuss his background with yoga and possible venues for classes, times, etc. Then the question keeps coming up, “So, when can we start?” And in my very American programmed sense I keep thinking, “Well, we will enquire at these various venues, then when we find a place, we will agree on a time, and then we’ll give everyone sufficient notice, and then we’ll begin.” But then some of the guys are like, “Why don’t we just walk up to Parliament Gardens right now and do it there?” I was thinking, “But, I’m in my work clothes and haven’t had lunch, I can’t be so spontaneous!” But its too tempting, so we head up the hill to the gardens.

So, there I am in Parliament Gardens doing yoga with two Congolese refugees, a Zimbabwean illegal immigrant and a Namibian. It was really cool. Omar really knew A LOT about yoga and was really into it. It was so cool. We did some sun salutations (Omar led some and I led some), a few other asanas and then sat for meditation. I led the meditation. As we sat down I was thinking, “hmmm, I wonder if our bags are safe over there by that tree, maybe we should bring them closer.” But there wasn’t anyone else around really and I figured if these guys weren’t concerned, I wouldn’t be either. So, we finish meditation and a few of the guys said, “I couldn’t really meditate cause I kept thinking about our bags over there.” Oh, well. I think it was a great experience anyway.

So, then we start chatting. They start asking all about yogic philosophies and stuff and eventually vegetarianism comes up. (Okay, so these guys aren’t really Rastafarians, they are just guys with dreadlocks that listen to reggae and smoke ganja.) Omar wisely diverted the question by pointing out that everything that you eat affects you, so you shouldn’t just worry about meat, but think about everything you put in your body including thins like coffee and sugar. Which of course brought about the ganja question. It was so funny, cause Omar and I were eye to eye on everything up till this. They all pretty much agreed that ganja is just plain a good thing, its natural, it helps meditate. It was clear they didn’t want that belief challenged, so I opted to remain silent. I decided instead to mention that attachment to ganja would probably not be very cool. But then we suddenly got into this discussion of non-attachment. There were so many moments like this, where I felt like, “Okay, an American consumer who can afford US$10 yoga classes is sitting here talking about non-attachment with two refugees and an illegal immigrant who are all employed in the informal sector and can’t afford US$1 taxi fare?” Its still making me laugh when I think about it.

The really neat thing is that the things they wanted to discuss were much deeper philosophical and spiritual aspects of yoga then ever come up in my $10 classes. The yoga instructors that I know have privately told me, “Yeah, I would love to get more into the philosophy and spiritual components, but Namibians are just way too conservative and get really turned off by that.” So, we may chant “Om shanti shanti shanti" after class, but that’s about as deep as they have been willing to go.

So, then they start flipping through my books, and randomly trying various asanas that looked crazy. The funniest was the headstands. Two of the guys were like, “Oh man I don’t think I can do this”, but they tried, did it, and then jumped from the headstand directly to a standing position. Yes, teaching them will definitely be different from my grad school buddies.

Anyway, we’ll see where this goes. They are excited to meet again tomorrow in Parliament Gardens, but I’ve told them that I can’t do it for another 3 weeks after that while I’m traveling in South Africa, so we’ll see if they have continued and/or found an indoor venue and/or maintained an interest and/or been deported by the time I get back. So, even though its not exactly like teaching Namibians, its at least teaching people who can’t afford expensive classes, and when I meet other people who can’t afford classes, I’ll be able to offer them something. I’m also excited to learn from Omar, cause I could fairly quickly see that my teaching style may not be appropriate for this group. I think we can learn a lot from each other. So, please pray for the manifestation and growth of my fledgling yoga dream…

(P.S. Timmy, if you are reading this, neither of the Congolese guys seem to know you, but one looks a whole bunch like you.)