Another World

I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to make one of those “10 things I learned in the Peace Corps” lists, but this is the closest I’ve come so far:

back in the US

I’ve been back in the US for about a month, and it’s one of the hardest facts to understand. It’s wonderful to be home, and I miss my Namibian life as well – but trying to compare the two is pretty much an apples and oranges situation. Sometimes it even seems hard to remember how day-to-day life was in Namibia; but then, sometimes it seems hard to comprehend why things are as they are here in America.

Being back with family is one of the best parts!

Today I was running up a hill in Seattle (they are the bane of my current existence – my village had no hills and I’m really out of shape!) thinking about, of course, running. I mentally berated myself for letting my fitness level get so bad, and spent a good half mile trying to figure out why I’m so unmotivated. Then I started comparing my situation to my exact same situation a few months ago in Namibia. I was running even less, and yes I wanted to be in better shape. But I was proud of the life I was living and the goals I was accomplishing, and I was in better shape than nearly all of my colleagues… so I stopped worrying.

This obsession with perfection is one of the things I have always found hardest about American culture. It is so easily to slide into that routine of expecting 150% (from everyone, about everything, always), and it’s something I’ve been guilty of my whole life. It’s also something that exactly opposes most cultures of the developing world. While I’m working at a summer composed of kids who fly across oceans to learn algebra for a few weeks, my learners in Namibia are just trying to maintain the 40% necessary to pass their classes. They’re preparing for a beauty pageant and, you know, most of the time they seem pretty ok with things. Although I would love for them to be pushed a bit harder in school (for the career opportunities if nothing else), even after 3 years I find it difficult to understand why we seem to be trying so hard to make them American kids. I was stressed as heck during high school, and I definitely did more than I needed to—and I can’t necessarily say that overbooking myself to the point of exhaustion really did anything for me in the long run.

The whole Pride festival and other recent Supreme Court rulings also made me happy to be home.

I guess I can’t say which is better. I really miss the pace of life in Namibia, and the way you are really able to stop and enjoy whatever it is you are doing. Then again, it’s hard to miss some of the sexism and extreme conservatism that showed up on a daily basis. In the same way, the liberal society and amenities in the US are great, but I’m not so convinced about our personal belief systems. In the end, I have to say I think the most value came from having the amazing opportunity to experience both, and to learn from mentors and friends versed in both cultures.

Unity and tribalism

whoops! Here's a post I started drafting about two months ago and never got a chance to post:

Teachers on my last day of school

“The best thing about our staff is that we can work, learn, and play together,” my principal opened our staff meeting on Monday for the beginning of the new term. This is particularly impressive because our staff does not consist of self-identified Namibians. It consists of Namas, Coloureds, Wambos, Caprivians and Kavangoans—representing most of the major tribes in the country.

It is true that we get along most of the time, and I do think that it is usually to the advantage of our learners. Having representatives from all tribes means it is pretty unlikely for learners to feel cheated or discriminated against based on their tribe. They are exposed to a wide variety of cultures just by coming to school, and I think they learn a lot from this.

My going away party with some of our staff

But there are no real utopias, right?

Even our perfect combination of teachers, I learned at the end of last term, bear their grudges and hold their stereotypes of each other. After a day of enjoying each others’ company at our staff party, some of my colleagues suddenly broke out into an hour-long battle along tribal lines. ‘Wambos steal jobs,’ ‘Namas are lazy,’ ‘Namas don’t go to college,’ ‘Wambos want to take over the country,’ etc. All of these stereotypes have their place, and yes, are based on some fairly accurate trends as far as I am concerned.

But the worst part for me was that they didn’t voice any of my own, privately-discovered generalizations:

Wambos are really kind and will love to share what they have with you.

Caprivians work harder than anyone I’ve ever met.

Namas love to laugh, tell great jokes, and are a blast to hang out with.

Obviously I notice strange things because I’m not from here and I’m not involved in the race-wars. But let’s try not to judge people by the skin they wear.