"But what will I eat?"

 In November of 2012, I interviewed for the Peace Corps. At the end of the interview, the recruiter asked if I had any questions. “Will I have enough to eat?” I enquired, envisioning emaciated Ethiopians in news magazines. The recruiter took a deep breath that seemed to say “Oh sweet naïve American.” Instead she assured me that yes, I would have enough to eat, and that Peace Corps would supply me with vitamin supplements (chewable dinosaur supplements, as I would come to discover).

The point of this post is to answer my own question from that interview. I do have enough to eat. My diet is rich and varied. I even feel much healthier here than I usually did in the US.

During undergrad, I usually spend about $40 USD per week on food. In Namibia, a similar amount can buy the following:

box of granola bars

package of toilet paper

loaf of bread

chocolate bar

soup mix

candles

cheese

bananas

peanut butter

trail mix

cucumber

apples

cooking oil

yogurt

ground beef

potatoes

oatmeal

a newspaper (to feed my mind)

Total: N$397.99 Namibian dollars = about $34 USD

I also bought a bag of green peppers and oranges from a vendor for another $1.50 USD. Bringing my weekly total to $36 USD. Food costs take up the heartiest chunk of my monthly $200 USD pay check. Transportation costs make up the second largest portion. Luckily, I traveled only 10 miles to buy all this food.

However, I am not limited to food I can buy at the grocery store or grow on my host family’s farm. In the large nearby towns, I can find restaurants ranging from seafood to Indian to fried chicken.

Indian food in Windhoek, about 500 miles from my village.

Chicken in Oshakati, about 60 miles from my village.

Salad in Eenhana, 10 miles from my village.

Wild antelope steak in Windhoek, about 500 miles from my house.

Eating pizza in Ongwediva, 60 miles from my village.

Cake in Otjiwarango, about 300 miles from my village.

Even my friend's Namibian cat has a balanced diet.

While I do have a number of culinary options in Namibia, I spend an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about food in the States. Weirdly, IHOP is near the top of my list. Crispy hash browns and stuffed French toast dance in my dreams. Fortunately, I will return to the US on October 9^th. I haven’t lost too much weight, so my family shouldn’t have any trouble recognizing me.

Myth About Africa #3: Ebola was a threat everywhere.

My earliest memories of the word “Africa” were dominated by images of famine-stricken Ethiopian orphans and AIDS patients withering on hospital cots. While these images might have been accurate in some places a couple decades ago, they are not now. Now when most Americans hear “Africa”, their first thought is Ebola.

If you arrived at this blog post intrigued by my Facebook claim of “experience with Ebola,” I have a confession: despite living in Africa for two years, I have zero experience with Ebola. That’s the point. Namibia has never had a case of Ebola. The closest ever case was in South Africa in 1996. Although I am far removed from the most recent Ebola epidemic, I’ve received some concerned queries from my friends and family in the States. Truly, I am grateful for their concern.

But Namibia has never been in much danger of a major Ebola outbreak. The main reason is simple: Namibia has been one of the countries most affected by HIV/AIDS. This claim may seem counterintuitive. Let me explain. West Africa (the locus of the most recent Ebola epidemic) escaped the full brunt of the HIV/AIDS pandemic in the 1990s. The HIV prevalence rate in Liberia is 1.1 percent. Most international funds for fighting HIV/AIDS were spent in Southern Africa. Namibia, for example, has a prevalence rate of 14.3 percent. Because of this influx in spending, Namibia has a solid medical infrastructure.  Each large town has a state hospital and many smaller communities have clinics staffed by trained nurses.

In West Africa, where many countries have been so riddled with war and corruption, citizens have little trust in any governmental institution--beleaguered hospitals included. That is not the case in Namibia. Here the government provides free HIV testing and counseling, as well as free antiretroviral therapy (the drugs that keep HIV at bay). As the prevalence rate is so high, many Namibians take advantage of these services, which has led to a comfort with clinics in general. Namibians don’t go to the doctor just for HIV-related matters; they go for minor illnesses too. Whenever I get the smallest head cold, my coworkers insist that I go to the hospital immediately. If Ebola were to strike Namibia, the people would be more likely to seek early medical attention than many people in West Africa.

Another reason Ebola spread so quickly in West Africa is that during burial rituals, the living relatives frequently touch the deceased and contact the victim’s bodily fluids. In Namibia this would be less likely to happen. Once again, the reason is HIV. The Namibian government has sponsored many HIV/AIDS prevention education programs. They have been effective.  Prevalence rates for young women have dropped by 50 percent in the past 10 years. I can ask any of my students how HIV is transmitted, and they will robotically recite “blood, breast milk, sexual fluids”—all bodily fluids. Health workers routinely visit remote areas to perform HIV/AIDS outreach and deliver routine vaccinations. The state-run radio regularly broadcasts reminders to wear a condom.  In the event of an Ebola outbreak, these programs could easily expand for Ebola prevention.

I can’t pretend I am smart enough to think of all these ideas myself. I found this article “Why Ebola Hit West Africa Hard” immensely informative.

While the HIV/AIDS pandemic has expedited the development of Namibia’s health systems, obviously HIV/AIDS itself is a very bad thing. The disease killed about 6,600 Namibians last year. However, through improved health care and education, Namibia’s national health is improving. Most people I meet look remarkably healthy.  And they should be.

My host family’s diet is as follows: a small amount of meat, a lot of field spinach, and even more millet porridge. Millet is loaded with B vitamins, protein, fiber, and iron. It’s so healthy, I am surprised American housewives haven’t turned it into a fad diet. My host family also tills the fields, pounds the millet into flour, herds cattle, plays soccer, and dances. They dance really well, which leads me to my next true myth about Africa.

True myth #3: All Africans can dance.

Some of my learners performing in traditional garb.

As soon as the school bell rings at the end of the day, I hear the girls beating on the school’s leather drum. The older girls teach the younger to flamboyantly stomp in time to their singing. They have no self-consciousness. (I squarely blame music videos for Americans’ self-consciousness in dancing. We compare our dancing to professionals on TV, so naturally we doubt our own abilities.) Tangent aside, the girls here—and frequently the boys—know that dancing is just fun and don’t worry if their hips pop as seductively as J.Lo’s… Is she still famous? I haven’t been in the US for a long time. I guess I’ll find out in 3 months when I return. Don’t worry; I promise not to bring Ebola with me.

What I Want Americans to Know About Namibia

This entry was written by one of my grade 10 learners (Nam-speak for “10^th grade student”). I have typed her words below in normal font, and my commentary is in italics.

Meet Olivia.

By Olivia Dumeni

I want Americans to know the Ovambo’s language and their work. Americans need to know Oshikwanyama, because Namibians also know English. And Oshikwanyama is a simple language. They need to know about Namibians’ culture.

(There are more than a dozen local languages in Namibia. One of these is Oshikwanyama, spoken by the Ovambo people in northern Namibia. However, Namibia’s official language is English, which is learned in schools. Olivia wants Americans to learn Oshikwanyama, because she thinks it’s unfair that everyone must learn English like Americans. While I wouldn’t require all Americans to learn Oshikwanyama, we should recognize the message our monolinguism sends to other countries.)

I want Americans to know how to pound mahangu and how to collect firewood. I want them to know how learners perform in their subjects.

(Mahangu is pearl millet, the staple of the Ovambo’s diet. They pound millet into flour then cook it into a stiff porridge. I told the learners that most Americans live in towns and don’t pound mahangu or cook on fires.)

I want them to know that English is a difficult language for Namibian people, and to know that Oshikwanyama is a simple language. I want them to know that Namibian learners have many subjects. We only have 40 minutes per period.

(In Namibia, the grade ten learners are required to take 13 subjects a week and are tested on about eight of those subjects multiple times a year. In my opinion, they have far too many classes. The kids can’t possibly master that many subjects each term. I told the learners that many schools in the US use a block schedule— four 1.5 hour classes each day. My learners were VERY jealous of this system.)

Namibians always eat porridge and spinach, sometimes rice and macaroni. In Namibia many people believe in God. And always on Sunday they go to church so that God can assist them.

(My learners and I were discussing religion in America, when I told them that many people in America are not Christians--that the US has people of many religions, and not all of them believe in Jesus Christ. Namibia is primarily Christian--Lutheran in particular. My learners were pretty horrified to learn that not everyone everywhere is Christian.)

Namibians always cultivate their mahangu, maize, and beans so that they can get food. In Namibia, learners have black teachers and at our school there is one white teacher.

(In my village, most people are subsistence farmers. They mostly eat just the food they grow. This is not the case for all Namibians though, and there are many large, modern grocery stores here. Also Namibia is a post-Apartheid country. Race is frequently the topic of discussion. Namibians are not shy when talking about race. Wherever I go, I hear the word “oshilumbu”--white person. I also regularly explain that “No, not all white people like to run, just some.” (I run a lot.) Or “Yes, there are a lot of black Americans.” To be fair, I think some Americans would be surprised to learn that there are a lot of white Africans—not albino people, but people of European descent whose families have lived in Africa for generations.)

In Namibia, there are many schools, and they are different. Some schools have electricity, while others they do not have electricity. Some schools have hostels and others there are no hostels.

(Schools come in a wide spectrum in Namibia. Some schools in large towns and cities are not that different from what you’d find in the US or Europe. Inequality, however, is one of the most common features of Namibian life. Many schools are extremely under equipped—not enough books, chairs, desks, or classrooms. Luckily, however, most schools have electricity. My school is scheduled to receive it this year. Also many schools in Namibia are boarding schools (hostels schools). My school is not, and some learners walk for over an hour each way to school.)

That is all I want Americans to know!

(There are so many more things I want Americans to know about Namibia. I return to the US in September or October, but I will try to publish a few more blog posts about Namibia before then.)