I worked abroad twice before coming to Namibia—once in China
and once in Mexico. On both of these adventures, most of the pictures that
crept online showed me playing: zip lining off the Great Wall China, cuddling
baby jaguars, etc. The online portrait of my life in Namibia is following suit.
This trend has led some of my friends and family to conclude that I don’t
actually work. Now I understand most of the comments are just good-natured
ribbing, but I feel defensive nonetheless. So today, in an effort to prove that
I don’t spend all of time frolicking through sand dunes, I will walk you
through my typical day.
***
6:15 am Shoot arm out of mosquito net. Fumble until I turn
off alarm. Roll over and try to ignore wooden slats pushing on my ribs through
the thin mattress.
6:30 am Mental fog dissipates enough to remember that
standing is more comfortable that lying down. Stumble to outhouse and check
corners for snakes.
6:45 am Wash face in bucket. Take malaria meds and attempt
to swallow horse pill vitamins. Gag shamelessly and try again.
7 am Eat breakfast. My favorite time of day. Includes
cereal, yogurt, juice, fruit, and peanut butter. Sit contentedly for a few
minutes rubbing my belly. Realize that I am late and wash dishes. Dispose of
water on unidentified squash growing under window.
7:30 am Walk 247 steps to school. Greet all teachers,
principal, secretary, janitor, and miscellaneous memes (older women) crossing
the yard.
8 am Start teaching.
10:40 am Break. Inhale sandwich.
11:10 am Back to teaching.
2 pm Open library. Try to convince fourth graders to stand
in line quietly. They convince me to shut up, go inside, and ignore them as
long as no one draws blood.
3 pm Close library. Exhale stress from teaching classes of
40 students and depositing books on 52 unruly children. Start planning for
tomorrow. Lessons must be simple, engaging, appeal to various learning styles,
and address some element of the 14 page nationally mandated curriculum. If I’m
lucky, the kids might even learn some English.
4:30 pm Call it a day. Walk 247 steps home. Verbally unload
day on puppy and chickens. They are quiet though inattentive listeners.
4:45 pm Eat a snack. Relish every spoonful of peanut butter.
5 pm Run through the forest. Belt Miley Cyrus to scare cows
and goats off path.
7 pm Occasionally bathe.
7:30 pm Harass host siblings to play with me.
8 pm “Help” make dinner. Try to stoke fire; children laugh.
Try boiling water; children laugh. Try stirring pot of porridge; this job is
simple enough to trust to me.
9 pm Eat porridge and meat with family around fire. Admire
stars.
9:45 pm Strap on head lamp to make final out house run.
Still no snakes.
10 pm Collapse into bed, tuck in mosquito net, and pass out.
***
3 am Wake up because rain is pounding tin roof. Stuff in
earplugs. Out again.
***
There is little variation to this routine. Sometimes my host
brother takes me bow hunting (I watch). And sometimes we slaughter a goat. Sometimes
I’ll even open a roll of two-ply toilet paper as a special treat. My life is
quite monotonous, but I love it. I’ll admit, however, that I am counting the 26
days until my next vacation. Plan on my bombarding you with more pictures of
frolicking on sand dunes.