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Coming Home
Sunday, 23 May, 2010

I tried to write about my holiday. I took notes in my journal when I was traveling. But I can’t do it. Sorry. You’ll have to get the clif note version - I went to Cape Town, it was awesome, Hannes and Sheila took care of me and I had more luxuries than I remembered existing - scalding hot shower with a door even (I don’t have a shower curtain, or even a place to put one), towels (giant ones), blankets (finally got myself one of those), family dinners (didn’t quite compare to eating in the sand with Nicky, but it was very nice to always be eating with family), going out to dinner (Thai food was the best meal I ate there), many adventures through tour organizations (cycling at Cape Point, wine tour), a disastrous shopping trip where instead I spent 2 hours in an internet cafe. I hiked (half) of the Naukluft 8 day, it was awesome, wish I’d been able to finish it instead of giving in/quitting/admitting defeat (take your pick, I don’t know what any of them means) after the worst foot pain I’ve ever known - saw zebras, kudu carcass, more zebras - next time I’m doing the whole thing.

On Thursday I finally started my trip back north after a long time away. I paid for a combi instead of hiking, and I don’t regret the decision at all. There were 16 people in the combi and they were all surprised to see a mukuwa going to Kavango. About half of them asked, “You stay in Rundu?” No, I stay 200km from Rundu. [Look of surprise.] White people don’t travel in combis, they all have their own cars.

I’d been looking forward to crossing the red line into Kavango for about a week by the time I finally did. There is nothing more beautiful that the Kavango Region. It’s the most beautiful (I know I just used that word) on earth. I love it all - the mud huts, the thatch roofs, the brightly skirted women carrying buckets of water on their heads, the kids carrying smaller water containers on their heads, trailing behind their mothers, the donkey carts transporting large supplies of firewood, the greenness. It felt like going home, crammed into a combi with 15 black Africans.

I spent a couple days in town, getting stuff done and readjusting to civilization and being around people.

Today I finally came home. I brought Ziggy with me from town. And it feels like home. I got out of the car this morning and several boys were walking past my house - Muremi Martin who I taught in grade 7 last year had a big smile on his face and I returned it with a greeting. It was nice to see someone I knew immediately. Nicky called from her mom’s phone. I told her I had too many things to do today and I’d come over in the morning. She accepted, and I set to work trying to make my house livable again. The fridge had been turned off, and closed - stupid me! - so it was moldy, cockroach infested and smelled terrible. I cleaned it with bleach, filled it up with food and turned it on. Now it’s cleaner than I left it. The clutter I left in my house is still here, but more than ever, after so long in Naukluft, I feel overwhelmed with STUFF, and I’m going to make a bigger effort to give things away. I went for a walk in the afternoon and saw several more learners. We all greeted each other with big, genuine, smiles. Some would call to me from the fields they were working in and I couldn’t make out who it was. But I always greeted back, happy to be appreciated, and happy to be back. There’s no replacing a trail through the wilderness with a walk down the road, but it’s all I’ve got at this point!

Two days and then reality strikes with school starting. For now I’m going to enjoy the most restful night I’ve had in weeks - in my own house, my own bed, with my new blanket, and knowing Ziggy is safe

The Effects of Africa
Monday, 24 May, 2010

Nothing lasts in Africa. If I got reimbursed for everything that’s broken while I’ve lived here, I’d be rich.

My first pair of Chacos (aren’t they supposed to last “forever”?) has been completely demolished - the strap near the heel ripped all the way through and the one near the toe is half way ripped. My second pair of Chacos isn’t far behind - the strap at the toe is half ripped already. My Tevas offer much less protection from the rocks on the gravel roads and paths than I’d expected and they’ll have holes through the toes and heels in about a tenth of the time I’d hoped they’d last. My sneakers nearly have holes in the soles and the sides near my little toes. One corner of my bed has been ripped up by Ziggy who uses it as his scratching post. My pants are all stretched out from handwashing and have stains from living, thus are unwearable in the classroom. The zipper on my school bag broke, while it was closed, so I slit the top of my bag, leaving it always gaping open. My umbrella is of poor quality and when I opened it once, I pushed it too far, turning it almost inside out. One shirt that I used to wear to school has red paint on the back from when the school was being painted and I leaned against the wall. Another shirt I used to wear to work recently got ripped by Ziggy’s claws. My Sigg is a 4 inch crack down its side from freezing too much water in it. One of my extension cords with two outlets has only one working outlet, the other has something jammed in it. The cover plate of my cell phone is cracked and falling off, letting sand and dust get inside, probably causing more problems than I know. This morning, when I turned on my computer, the first attempt gave me the dreaded blue screen. I thought to myself, “Please please please please turn on.” Maybe that’s what praying is, but now I’m afraid to turn it off.

With all those broken things, my house again feels like home after less than 24 hours. This morning I was woken by then sun and heard the neighbor kids already up. I took my time, knowing it’s one of my last real relaxing mornings for a while. When I ventured outside, Mulela, Fortune and Pope (poe-PAY) were outside and it was immediately easy to greet them - no awkwardness after so long apart. Pope seemed to have forgotten who I am - he’s not even 18 months yet - but after about an hour, he was walking around yelling “AYI!” his and Matthew’s version of Lori. He has been walking into and out of my house all morning looking for me or Ziggy, and even found me in the bathroom once. So much for only your own kids walking in on you!