In Between

In between….three months until I return home and I sit here in an awkward space. My roles and responsibilities as coordinator of the Leth’ithemba Drop-In Centre continue to dominate my daily life, but now there is a subtle change brewing. This past Wednesday at the after-school program we provide, I suddenly felt a strange sensation. I am not the centre of the whirlwind of decision-making and activity as I have been since we opened the drop-in center 6 months ago. The flurry of mini crises and changing plans which I had fielded for more than 6 months has dissipated. Instead, the program components of improving English skills and assisting with homework, recreation, nutritious meal and spiritual guidance were hesitantly falling into place. The Youth Leaders scurried around organizing the 6-12 year olds that we serve into juniors (grades 1-3) and seniors (grades 4-7), herding them into the appropriate classroom. From the beginning, we have been fortunate to have attracted 5 enthusiastic teenage volunteers who have a heart for the smaller children that struggle to some extent like they do in the township. They yell to each other in Zulu and soon have the children singing and chanting as they wait for Elize to explain today’s English lesson to two volunteer teachers and three new older Youth Leaders who would assist them in the activity. Each child is given a magazine and scissors to cut out pictures of anything that had to do with cultivating, preparing or eating of mealie-meal, the staple food in their diet. In subsequent weeks we will label the pictures with English words and do vocabulary exercises. It is absolutely critical that our children get the English remediation necessary in order to succeed in school by the fourth grade when all lessons are conducted in English…..nobody came to me for instructions, advice. What was happening? The on-site coordinator, Delisile, and program coordinator, Elize, my host mother whom I reside with, have essentially taken over the responsibilities that I had assumed for the past 6 months. They huddle together sorting out the recipe of the bean, meat and vegetable soup the three volunteer cooks were in the midst of preparing. Were there enough donated apples for the head count of 65 kids today? And what about the little girl whom we have observed is having vision trouble? Eye disease? Elize knows an eye doctor in town. Would he help her?

I sit in a plastic molded chair with the autumn sun on my back outside the classroom door during the 1:30-2:30 recreation period. Alternating my time, I enjoy watching the soccer game that became much more enthusiastic as one of the new Youth Leaders joined in the competition…..we must get a air pump for our cheap half-deflated soccer balls, I think. Likewise, the netball game (something like basketball) that girls enjoy had everyone squealing with laughter as the other two new Youth Leaders joined in the action. Inside the classroom next to where I sit, the smaller children are playing with the donations of stuffed toys we received from the Bethal church community. The children we serve are starved for comforting touch. They cuddle and play with the stuffed toys so intensely that I have to smile.

Peace Corps training emphasize the need to make our projects sustainable. My goal has always been to help prepare, train and recruit community volunteers who would be ready to take over my roles and responsibilities when I left. Now that this is successfully happening, I feel sad. I suppose this is natural, sort of an empty nest syndrome? My time in South Africa is limited. Seeing the drop-in centre thrive is very rewarding. But it does remind me that a big part of my heart is embedded in the birth of this project, the people, the frustrating fits and starts. It will be difficult to leave. It will be difficult to say good-bye.

Bush Camping in Namibia

The time I have left in Africa is dwindling to a bit over 3 months now and I find that I haven’t seen much of Africa outside of the country I serve in, South Africa. So, my good traveling buddy Brenda and I decided to visit Namibia, a country the size of California with a population less than 2 million people located in south west Africa bordering the Atlantic Ocean, via a bush camping tour….not luxury tent camping, mind you, but a 10 day driving tour out in the bush (wilderness). With just enough provisions to get us through 2 days at a time, we were instructed to keep our tents zippered tight at night because of the scorpions and snakes and keep our shoes inside as the jackals like to carry them off in the middle of the night…..It sounded like our kind of fun.

What did not occur to me was that I would be camping for the first half of the trip with “only the clothes on my back.” My checked duffel bag did not arrive with me to Windhoek, the capitol of Namibia, where we flew to begin our journey. I was stunned. How was I supposed to function without all of those dependable and necessary items like clean clothes, tooth brush, and soap? I had nothing but a windbreaker. Well, I said to myself, I have three options. Choice number one was to become angry and frustrated, choice two was to get anxious and worried. Both are familiar territory. But I chose option three which was to accept the fact I had no control over the situation and to just get on with the trip. So, while the other 10 travelers on our tour were stocking up on gin and tonic, beer, wine, water and sodas with the 20 minute stop before our venture out to the desert, I was scouring the tiny shops for essentials; underwear and a cheap cotton hat that made me look like a thug. I borrowed shirts, towel and followed Brenda around anytime she had a flashlight, toothpaste or detergent in her hand. I did a lot of hand washing. What I found was that the fun and adventure of the trip was not diminished because I didn’t have the stuff that I thought was so important.

Namibia is a land of contrasts, so flat that it seems you can see forever in any direction, especially awe inspiring when inhabited with wild life, then suddenly, red star-shaped sand dunes rising as high as 60 stories tall stretching down to the crashing waves of the ocean. We saw ship wrecks imbedded in the sand along the Skeleton Coast and cave art paintings and etchings as old as the Pharaohs of Egypt. We stayed two nights in a tiny town called Swakopmund that has an atmosphere that many say is more German than in Germany. But, the highlight of the trip for me was the red sand dunes at sunrise and sunset on our last day of the tour. A freak thunder, lightening and rain storm had greeted us at Sossusvlei where we arose at 5:45 am to race to the top of Dune 45 to see the sunrise. The sand was wet and squishy between my toes as I gingerly made my way along the crest of the dune. It was spooky. It was difficult to balance as the wind whipped over me and pelted me with sprinkles of rain. Although there was only sand to tumble down on if I fell, it was a long ways down to the bottom. The sunrise was obscured by the low clouds that morning, but sunset gave us what we came for….a magnificent 360 degree view of setting sun colors reflecting off the desert, mountains and dunes, standing atop the tallest sand dune in the range we had climbed, rainbows, prism, thunder and lightening storms far off in the distance. The sensory experience was one to remember the rest of my life. As the sun disappeared below the horizon, we suddenly realized that distant storm clouds had changed direction and were barreling down on us. We started running down the dunes one after another back to where our tour guide promised he would fetch us. We struggled against the increasing wind. The sky darkened and we could hear the thunder and lightening getting closer and closer. Since I was the tallest one in the group of five, I figured it would be me chosen if lightening struck us. Just as it began to rain we reached the bottom of the dune and in view of the headlights of the tour truck lumbering down the gravel road towards us. In no time, Benny reached us with the door open saving us from getting drenched and anything worse.