Here's to Hope: The Election Edition

When America elects its first black president, you kind of want to be there.

But if you can’t be in America for such an historic event, Africa is probably the next best place.

Now I realize polls closed a couple of weeks ago, but I’ve been slow on the take to post what the waiting game was like for those of us here in Namibia. Since friends and family keep asking, and since it was my first absentee election, I thought I’d share a bit of the experience with all of you here, on my blog.

It goes without saying that following this election from a developing country proved a bit of a challenge. While a handful of friends in Khorixas have televisions, no regular (or reliable) access to Internet or newspapers meant missing a lot of the day-to-day happenings—and sadly, all of the debates. In America I would have been glued to nyt.com at work, and canvassing the streets on weekends. But here in Namibia I relied almost exclusively on weekly reports from my mom and dad, updates from friends via email and the occasional out-of-date Newsweek, compliments of Peace Corps. Oh, and of course, Namibians.

Whether it’s true for all American elections, or just for this one in particular, I can’t say. But most everyone here was following the coverage as closely as we were (or rather—wished we were). Colleagues dropped by my office to talk about who I planned to vote for and the possibility of an African president. (His Kenyan heritage allows even Namibians to claim him as one of their own.) They spoke with a sparkle of pride in their voices and I could see this election was bigger than just our country. The eyes of the world were watching, and I knew that come Wednesday morning, Peace Corps Volunteers everywhere would have to answer to them. Face to face.

Polls were just opening in America Tuesday as I was preparing for sleep here in Namibia. I was too nervous for bed—wondering just what kind of world I’d be waking up in. We were on the brink of change, and I was desperate to see our country actually cross the threshold. I tossed and turned. Restless. Impatient. Worried that instead of waking up in a new era Wednesday morning, I’d be waking up with the same country and the same problems.

It’s just that this time, I’d have friends and colleagues in Namibia to answer to, too.

Given our limited access to technology, we were pretty reliant on well-connected PCVs for updates. A handful of volunteers arranged to camp out in the living rooms of coworkers or friends so they could tune into international news in the early morning, when the first polls closed at home.

SMSes started pouring in around 5 a.m., but they didn’t wake me up. I’d never actually been able to fall asleep. “Electoral count: McCain 95, Obama 207 so far,” the fist one read. “Right now my state of Texas is neutral—can you imagine?” read another. Then, less than an hour later came, “They just projected Obama the winner. All the polls are closed. 297-139.” Finally came, “OBAMA PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!!!!”

I could stop holding my breath.

It seemed safe to say that change was finally upon us.

By 8 a.m. we were at my friend Clarence’s door, eager to catch a glimpse of the news on his TV. His entire family was already huddled around the television—cups of steaming tea in hand—watching America’s new First Family—its first black family—take the stage. A family that, in some ways, looked a lot like his. “Congratulations,” they said, getting up to give us hugs. “You must be so happy!”

And the truth was, we were. Because for the first time, in a long time, I felt good to be an American.

Happy Birthday Dad!

Hope you have a great day!

Love,
Jill

Just a Toothbrush: Eddie Bowe Primary, Take Two

Grade 5B


Grade 5C


Grade 6B


Grade 7B

Just a Toothbrush: Eddie Bowe Primary

Learners here in Khorixas are busy preparing for final exams and the end of the school year, so this week’s oral care workshops will likely be the last of 2008. (But don’t worry—plenty more will happen in the coming year!)

Since I started this project a few months ago, I’ve been surprised by how few children own toothbrushes, how unaware most are of proper brushing techniques and how almost none know even the definition of cavity (let alone how to prevent one).

You’d think by now nothing would shock me. But today, I was simply amazed. Amazed because when I asked where the dentist in Khorixas works, no one raised a hand.

Not because they didn’t know the place. But because they didn’t know the profession.

Before today it seems, most of these learners had never even heard of the dentist.


Edddie Bowe Grade 5A


Eddie Bowe Grade 6A


Eddie Bowe Grade 7A

Happy Namiversary!

We celebrated our one-year anniversary this past Sunday in typical PCV fashion: on the side of the road, in the blazing hot sun, trying to thumb a ride.

It wasn’t a celebration, but still, it seemed, a moment to remember.

I’d spent Halloween with other volunteers in a town far to the south. We wore makeshift costumes, “carved” tin can jack-o-lanterns and reminisced over home-cooked meals about where we all were this time last year. (For the record: landing in Windhoek and wondering just what the hell we’d gotten ourselves into.)

We agreed, there'd been days that felt like they'd never end, bouts of homesickness, times of sadness and without a doubt, periods of frustration. Still, we said, there were few things we’d change. In the last year, it seems, we’ve experienced--and maybe even accomplished--more than we ever imagined possible.

I learned to click, plucked a chicken and carried water on my head. I slept in a hut, survived 120-degree heat and spent two weeks in a foreign country without any kind of luggage. I bought two-years worth of supplies in less than two hours and found a new place to live in less than 24. I rode 14-deep in a 6-person vehicle and sat shotgun in a homemade donkey cart. I taught health classes and started a girls club. I showed a dozen learners as many games and looked on as they taught their entire school how to play. I started an AIDS Awareness Club and facilitated Windows of Hope. I completed seven dental workshops at two schools and one orphanage, and provided nearly 300 kids with toothbrushes and toothpaste in the process. I read more than 75 books (including War and Peace) and started learning to play the harmonica. I was elected co-chair for Camp GLOW and helped organize and run a workshop for more than 100 out-of-school youth. I created an information resource center at my hospital and showed learners how they could be teachers in their communities. I developed an informal reading program and got a community garden off the ground. I marched in a World AIDS Day event, started a weekend sports and crafts program at the orphanage, wrote two manuals and a facilitator guide and partnered with the Red Cross on more than a dozen outreach events.

I hitchhiked around Namibia and Botswana, crossed the Tropic of Capricorn and walked over an international border. I visited 10 of Namibia’s 13 regions, saw elephants in the Chobe and hiked Table Mountain. I saw hippos, warthogs, crocodiles, water buffalo, kudu, giraffe, monkeys, baboons, whales, seals, penguins and dolphins in the wild. I learned to pitch a tent (in the rain, no less), went sky diving in the desert and kayaked on the other side of the Atlantic. I turned down hundreds of proposals and learned—at least somehow—what it feels like to be treated as a second-class citizen. I broke four cell phones and one ipod. I met the governor of Kunene and listened to the president speak. I visited the birthplace of Shilo and the southern-most tip of the continent.

And I realized that a person can be hundreds of miles from all that she knows and still be in a place she happily calls home.

Not bad for just 365 days…