Changing lanes for a bit

  So, I'm going to get very serious. To be honest, this post has been very tough to write. It's took me over a week to come to grips with the reality of the subject, and a few more days before I could even begin to think straight enough to find the words to express what I want to say. The second is more recent, and I'm still very shaken up by it, and I'm only now starting to formulate actual words for what I want to say. I'm still not sure I'm doing justice to what has gone through my mind on either, but I am certainly going to try, because I think both subjects are things I need to get off my chest, and while I could make separate posts for each, I just feel more comfortable getting both out at the same time so I can maybe move on. Honestly, this post may be a bit hard for some people to read, and I will completely understand if you don't read through it, stop mid way, or just stop now. And I know my emotions may get in the way of my intelligence here, but that can't be helped, because right now, I need to stop holding them in.

Part 1

  The first thing I want to talk about is a stark reality of history. It's a major part of Namibian history, a under-told part of German history, a largely unknown part of Jewish and European history, and a part of history that if more people know about would make a certain 20^th century tragedy even more horrifying than it already is. A little over a week and a half ago (from when I started writing this post), Namibia celebrated its independence day. Its 23^rd independence day, to be exact (I emphasize that because, as most of you know, I am 23 myself, so I just want to put that in context). To honor independence day, our staff gave us a history lesson Namibia was a German colony for a while. The last thing they showed us was a film about the Genocide of the Herero people in the early 1900s. The German colonial period was a time of major oppression for the local populations, and there many who voiced opposition to German colonial rule. This finally came to a head when the German military opened fire on the Herero people living in a town (I believe Okahandja, which, if that place sounds familiar, is where I am currently staying). These people were eventually pushed into a part of the desert where they had no access to food, water, or shelter. The Germans then put up a fence. And thus began the Genocide of the Hereros (a misnamed tragedy, since it would result in the abuse and systematic slaughter of many local peoples, not just the Hereros, though that's where it began).

Millions were put in concentration camps and worked to death. Some of the camps were run by the local German authorities. Many more were owned by private companies based in Germany. These people were rounded up, forced into camps, and worked to death. The whole thing came from a German philosopher who said that for a powerful nation to maintain its power, its need to expand, and once it runs out of space within its borders, it needs to find somewhere else to expand. That somewhere else is what is now Namibia (then German Southwest Africa). On an Island they rounded up many more people, mostly Damaras, I believe, and performed experiments on them, the kind of experiments that would have echoes in a similar tragedy later that century. Experiments designed to prove that some people were simply born inferior to others.

  If this sounds familiar, then all I can say is you are on my page. All my life I've lived with stories of the Holocaust. Of the horror. Of the death. Of the tragedy of my people. As a Jew, it's always made me wonder how such a thing could occur and people not do something sooner. People knew of the camps, of the genocide being committed in Europe. And the only thing that I could say to make it seem “okay,” or at least justifiable that nobody reacted sooner was the thought that this was a blip on the map, a completely unheard-of concept. That this was completely out of character for Germany and something nobody could believe because there was no precedent to believe it. Then I learned about the genocide of the Herero people. This was NOT a blip of the map and it fit exactly with the character that Germans had shown earlier that century. I'm sorry to any Germans or people of German decent who may be reading this, but the Holocaust was not an aberration, it was simply a perfected repeat of what you did in Namibia. And that means that when the first reports of what the Germans were doing to the Jews, the gays, the gypsies, and other groups in Europe, anyone who didn't immediately believe them was at best pathetically naive or ignorant, and at worst an enabler. That's right. They had EVERY reason to believe it, and you should be absolutely ashamed of any relative who says they heard about these events and didn't. Maybe that's my emotions getting the better of me, but the Germans weren't acting out of character during the Holocaust, they were following their own evil pattern. 6 million Jews and millions of other people were killed because they allowed it to, even though they had no reason not to believe that a people who had done it once would do it again.

  Yes, I realize they didn't have the internet back then. I am very much aware that information wasn't quite as accessible as it is today. But that doesn't change the fact that it was available. In fact, the genocide was authorized by the German government and the companies running the concentration camps kept solid records. So did the German authorities in the colony. The Germans have a really bad habit of keeping super good records of the atrocities they commit. There were also photos and books being written based on the findings of the “science” they were conducting. The information was there. People knew what was going on. Except they didn't want to. They chose to be ignorant, and that makes them every bit as guilty for the genocide of the Hereros and later, it means that everyone who claims they couldn't believe the Holocaust was going on because it was completely out of the blue were also willfully ignorant, and that choice means they, in my opinion, are no less guilty than Hitler himself.

Part 2

  Now, there is no easy transition here for the second part of this post. All I can say is that the debate going on in the US regarding gun control, a similar one needs to be taking place in this country about people having the right to drive. Because Namibians are terrible drivers. To make things worse, a common sight are bars with car washes next door and bars with car washes attached. Drinking and driving is one of this country's biggest health problems.

  This past weekend, I had 2 events that nailed this thing home for me.

  I will pause to add a little context here. It was Easter weekend, and many people were off from Good Friday through Easter Monday (thought Peace Corps only gave us PCTs Sunday). For many, it's a family weekend. A lot of people go to church. Of those who don't, many of them drink. A lot. Alcoholism is a huge problem here. It's a huge problem in a lot of places, but this past weekend alone, I believe I read in the news that 16 people were killed in car accidents (it might be more, but I believe those may have only been the confirmed number, and I think I was told that this stat might only include alcohol-related driving deaths). I know of at least one. I'm pretty sure I witnessed a second.

  I'll start with the one I saw. A friend and I were walking to Nau-aib to meet up with a friend and then walk (or in the end cab) to meet some other friends. We were getting ready to cross a street when I saw a car coming. Fast. My friend didn't. She was about to cross when I got her attention. Seconds later, the car sped past us, turned a corner, and then it happened. The noise. I turned my head in the direction of the sound, one I can't put into words, and I saw it, a scene that my words can't do justice for: this car, that had just sped past us, was rolling. I saw it roll over 3 times at least. I saw it come to a stop. I saw a bunch of horrified people run towards it. And I paused. And I began walking the other way. As a former EMT, I was pretty sure I knew what I'd see, and I didn't want to see it. In an accident like that, the majority of the time death is the best outcome. I saw the car roll 3 times. I heard it a few more before it cleared the trees and came into view. It was crushed like a soda can. I didn't need to walk over because I knew what I would see and I knew there was nothing I could do for the person. So I just kept walking. As I walked, I turned back, hoping I'd imagined the whole thing, that I was just hallucinating from all the weird foods I ate the day before. I hadn't. I just kept walking.

  It's Tuesday night now. This happened Sunday afternoon. Every time I close my eyes, I see the whole thing on repeat. I'm still shaken. Even after spending a summer responding to these kinds of things, what I witnessed still haunts me, and I can't shake it.

  But that wasn't the end. I get home later and my host mom's car is gone. So is my entire host family. The house is dark. I go to my room, figuring it was just an Easter thing or something. I lie in my bed, grab a couple Khoekhoe notebooks and my bottle of scotch, take a few sips and begin to study. About an hour later, my host family returns and tell me the story. They'd had to drive to Windhoek. Our neighbor is hosting one of my fellow trainees. Her host father is a truck driver, and was home for the weekend, but was in Windhoek for the day. On the way home, he hit a person who walked in front of the car (I don't know the firm details, this is just what I've managed to piece together). He swerved and pretty much destroyed his car. The person he hit was dead before he hit the ground, from what I hear. Everyone else was fine. Everyone else includes my friend's host siblings, one of whom is 6, I believe. The driver was not drunk, but in Namibia they drive fast (the concept of defensive driving is unheard of here) and at night the winding roads ca be very dangerous. There's a reason Peace Corps tells us to avoid being on the road at night. This helped me finally realize it's not them trying to baby us, it's them trying to keep us alive

  I'm going to stop there. I would like to end on a positive note, but right now, I think it's better I just stay serious. I promise my next post will be more positive (my April Fools Day joke aside, I love this country and am very happy for the most part and have a lot of awesome things to share, including teaching my first HIV/sexual education classes). But for now, I am very shaken up. Very angry. Very confused. And I needed to get all this off my chest so I can begin to recover. So sorry for the dark tone of this article. Sorry for letting my emotions trump my brain. But sometimes things have to be said, and I believe this is one of those times. So I'll just end it with a cliché; please, people, do not drink and drive. You are not invincible. When you get drunk, you put yourself and many other people, people you don't know or realize are there, in harm's way, and when you drive, you make it even worse. Take a taxi. Call someone else. Wait until you sober up. Or just drink less. But don't drink and drive. I am horrified by the events of this weekend, and if I feel this way after seeing what I saw, I promise you, if the situation happens with you driving, someone else who saw it would likely be just as shaken. And your life is worth a lot more than a cab. So stay safe and remember, no matter how hard it can be to believe that something can be happening, no matter how horrifying it is, believe it first, or else we will never be able to claim “never again.” Not for genocide and not for drunk driving deaths.