And Then We Made a Music Video

We Get a Little CRAZY in Mavanze

But I promise I’m still here. Still killing spiders and owning puppies. Still pulling my hair out when children steal my pencils, and still hosting dance parties. Still reading a lot of Dr. Seuss and teaching a lot of manners.  Still have the ups and downs – but overall so grateful to be sharing this life with so many inspiring children.

And my bestie Maggie just visited, so here’s a little preview of our adventures!

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Daily Life


In light of the fact that I am in my last year here, I thought I’d post a little poem about my daily life.

This is difficult for me to do,
Mavanze can’t be explained
But “Kasiku” means walker in the night,
And that’s my village name.
And people with village names
Are more legit than the rest.
So I’m tackling this poem head on,
Get ready for my best.

To get to my village, take a cab.
At the gas station you’ll push.
Stalking taxis, begging, pleading,
Cuz no one wants to go in the “bush”.
On the way here’s the music:
Mshasho, The Dogg, Celine.
Some chats about life and the classic:
“Will you marry me?”

At the entrance to the center,
You’ll find “Tiger” our mascot.
Though he is infested with fleas,
He has the cutest trot.
He might be a little awk
But he’s as loyal as can be.
And on my way to school he stalks
While peeing on each tree.

Then there’s my lovely house.
A random collection of rooms
But they’re all smooshed together
Surviving Kahare’s music booms.
Mine is obviously the best –
It’s painted glacier blue.
Here live a lot of spiders,
And flies and crickets too.
The clutter is overwhelming;
I have a lot of stuff!
But I need my room to keep me sane
Cuz my life here’s kind of tough.

In the morning, I wake up at five
(if I survive those hallucinations)
I walk to school, it takes an hour
I’m drenched in perspiration.
On the way I tour the village,
It’s quite the gogeous site.
Pink sunrises and rolling plains,
Huts drenched in morning light.
And then there are the fires
As people cook breakfast.
The learners call out “Morokeni!”
As they join me in my quest.
And the little children have a dance
That they made up just for me.
They call it “Chindele” –
“White person” in Rukwangali

At school I have only one class,
I wish I could teach more.
But Grade 8 is worth the walk
And I try not to make them bored.
Harry Potter – themed competitions
Jeopardy and poetry reading;
But still I give tests once each week
To ensure that they’re succeeding.
Don’t worry, I’m pretty strict –
And if I hear them speak
Their own language and not English,
It’s detention once that week.

After school its a quick lunch break
Before I start Job Two
I eat PB&J and watch a show
In my room of Glacier Blue.
But time to myself is over
Almost as soon as it begins.
And then its to the Center
(I hang out with more kids!)
Their ages are quite varied:
Zero to eighteen.
Each lesson must be catered
To apply to what they’ve seen.
Geography, Bio, Social,
Vocab and spelling tests.
I try to reach each learner
To ensure they’re trying their best.
And above all we read –
And read and read and read.
They must grow in their English,
And our books provide the seed.
I’ve probably read The Giving Tree
A hundred million times
I could recite it in my sleep.
Every. Single. Line.

But the lessons all seem minor
And a class is just a class
You have to look at individuals
And they seem to be growing up fast.
Mungeli is the grumpy one,
But if you get him to smile,
It makes you feel you’ve done your job.
And it all seems worthwhile.
George is the most defiant,
(More than a fifth grader should be)
If you ask him to follow rules,
A frown is what you’ll see.
Muhepa always asks
Eighteen thousand questions
You’d think he was unsure in life,
But he’s firm in his convictions.
Morina’s hard-working,
She wouldn’t miss school for the world.
But her studying face is just a mask
When her laughter is unfurled.
Maggah is serious, Likuwa precocious,
Ihemba always dances.
Kankala fixes things that break,
While Diksa just romances.
Hellena is the quiet one,
Martha is the proudest.
Ngombio tells all the jokes
And Ntjamba laughs the loudest.

And then there’s my favorite child
That I’ve ever met in my life
Sadira makes me happy
And she takes away all strife.
She’s strong, a leader, caring,
The best family member you’ve seen.
Taking care of three children,
And she only is fourteen.
She studies with me every day,
And now she is the best
Learner at the center
Thus she trumps the rest.
So when I stop to think about
Leaving this place in a year,
It’s not the sunrises I’ll miss most
Or the spiders, though they’re dear.
Its the kids who wear me down,
The ones I put up with each week.
I will miss them more
Than this poem could ever speak.
At the end of the day I sit
By the fire as it cooks
My porridge and spinach dish –
It IS as gross at it looks.

I talk to mom, Anna,
She’s my best friend here.
She give me gossip,

I tell her stories
While her children are always near.

Eveline sit on my lap,

Just repeating my name.

While Eliza plays on my phone

And talks about first grade.

As soon as I get to my room,

I pass out on my bed.

Though my room should be cleaned,

I’d rather sleep instead.

Our First Summer Adventure

Since the last time I posted, Namibia has turned into a ginormous sweat-fest. I have officially taken all sheets and blankets off my bed, and now sleep fully nude with my fan on full blast. The walk from school is now interrupted by several pauses in the shade, and I go through about 16 liters of water a day. The best part, though, is that we made a pool to play in!

Playing “Crocodile”

Getting a pedicure

The extreme sunny heat lasted about a month and a half, but now the rainy season has finally began. The heat is the same – actually getting worse – but it is now coupled by occasional rainstorms, which break it up and cool down the burning hot sand. With the onset of the rainy season has come a little adventure, heres the story.

Apparently there are eleven giant towers in Kavango, which are connected to all other electrical poles/wires that go out into the rest of the region. The towers are anchored by copper bolts. The copper is valuable and a rare commodity to people here, so some people have been slowly stealing the copper bolts that hold up the towers. I guess it happened over a period of months, so no one noticed it. But when the first rainstorm came, ten out of the eleven towers fell down almost at once. Our whole region immediately lost all power and water.

We used the crisis to play in the river all weekend.

So on Sunday, sans electricity, Matt and I decided to head to the Rundu Beach and were shocked to find the WHOLE town there. Everyone decided to take this break from life as an opportunity to have a full out rage on the beach, so obviously we joined in. We drank some wine, found a bunch of our Namibian friends, and had a picnic on the rocks. Then Matt and I swam across to Angola and found ourselves on the edge of a field in the face of a toothless farmer who was growing a mysterious plant.

Swimming on the way back, I was “rescued” by a naked Namibian woman who thought I was drowning. After saving me, she dove back underwater and swam away like a mysterious mermaid returning to the depths.

Later that day, Peace Corps decided to evacuate us from our sites. Most people in my group had no water or food, and no access to communication – so Peace Corps decided it was best to get us all together where they could keep track of us. So on Monday and Tuesday, 23 of us got to have a mini camping vacation on the river! We spent most of it playing games, taking walks, and reading books on the dock in the river. It was such a fun break from life that we were all sad when the power unexpectedly came back last night and we had to return to site.

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The Olympics!

It’s time to catch you up with the latest going-ons round these parts.

So about a month ago, I launched a campaign at the Center called: “Work Hard. Play Hard.” It seems like a pretty basic concept for us Americans, but my kids had never heard of it before. They’re constantly berated by parents and teachers to “work harder”, “stop walking around like the cattle”, “pull up your socks’, etc. But never are the kids encouraged to balance this with playing; and though it can’t be argued that they play a ridiculous amount of soccer, sometimes they almost feel like they’re breaking the rules by doing so.

Anyway, so I launched this campaign. And the kids became obsessed. They constantly referenced our slogan, and one kid even found a song online called “Work Hard, Play Hard”, and played it at the center incessantly. We made two posters – each one dedicated to either working or playing – and checked off the names of the learners who came to participate in either one of those activities. Then, we divided them up into two teams (are you following this?) and kept track of their work hard and play hard points. This all culminated in a much-anticipated CENTER OLYMPICS, in which each team started with the number of points we had calculated, and then competed in athletic activities all day. The winning team would be the one whose total number of points from Work Hard/Play Hard AND the all-day Olympics exceeded the other.

It sounds simple, but here was the tricky part. I had no idea the number of kids that would show up (could be anywhere from fifteen to one hundred and fifty); they are all different ages with different English levels (how could we include everyone, or pick and choose who could compete without total chaos?), and I had to keep track of points the entire day, with kids arguing and fighting about who was winning, etc. So I was a little nervous.

But don’t worry! It was pulled together (almost) seamlessly. About 120 kids (ages 5-18) came, we suited them up with a colored bandana, and launched the Olympics. We started out with a game of soccer, played by the older boys. Then we did three-legged races, which was good because we could match competitors by size on each team, and anyone could participate. Then we continued with netball by the older girls, and an egg-and-spoon race. That was SO funny because the kids had never seen that game, and were so confused why we would risk breaking a whole egg – a valuable source of protein – for a 30 second race. But they had an absolute blast, and I turned a blind eye when the leftover eggs were pocketed. Finally, after hours of playing in the hot sun, I brought out two buckets of water balloons, hoping to host one more game in which we could see how far the red and blue teams could pass their respective water balloons down a long line. Only that lasted for about three minutes before I chucked a water balloon at a learner and started an all-out war. It was a perfect end to a very long and crazy day. Want to see pictures?




Birthday Fun

Recent Adventures:


So here’s what it’s like throwing a party for two hundred people in a small village. First we woke up to defrost the meat. Picture this: fetching water in ginormous bowls on your head, spilling meat juice everywhere, dogs following you around trying to get a taste. And then sitting on the ground in the sand, wind blowing, while you try to chop the meat. And then of course you have to rinse off the sand particles so as to have minimal crunch and teeth-breaking. Meanwhile several chickens are (seemingly) innocently plucking around, and then – lightening fast –  stealing the defrosted chunks of their dead brothers as soon as your back is turned.

Then comes the fire making (that was seamless, thank goodness) and skewering. I think we made a total of 250 kebab skewers, complete with beef, chicken, tomatoes, onions, peppers and apples. The piercing and chopping took several hours. Then we coupled that with some friend chicken legs, Caesar salad, and pasta – and we felt like we were back in America having a full on feast.

When the kids arrived, I decided to disperse balloons, which started a full-out riot. I think anytime you give away free stuff to kids, you have to know you’re entering a war zone. But the balloons made the party way more colorful and festive and periodically interrupted by of a loud burst or two. I also caught some of the kids bartering their balloons for maguni oranges, so Vitamin C?

Distributing of the Balloons

Thankfully some teachers from my school arrived shortly thereafter to help cook, so I was free to run around with the kids and push tables together so we could have a dance party. That was by far the best part, because everyone danced together – even the kids from my Grade 9 class (who normally are too cool to interact with the small kids) joined in. AND I got to separate some budding couples, which made me feel really old. A perfect initiation into the 24th year of my life.

I was afraid that we wouldn’t have enough cake to feed 200+ mouths, but then Matt presented it me and it was HUGE. Still the pieces were about 2 square inches, but that worked out because then we had enough left over to throw into the screaming throng of children, to be caught and shoved into their mouths without any qualms.

The Cake

Then of course the food was a total hit. And we spent the rest of the afternoon dancing! So I’d say it was probably the best birthday of my life. I’ve never been surrounded by THAT many people that I love, with so much joy and energy.

Afternoon Walk

Just some pictures from an afternoon walk in the village…


And a video that we made last week, enjoy!


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