Loss

  So, before I begin, I promise, things are going very well for the most part.  I will hopefully have a much happier post in the near future.  But right now, I needed to write this for my own sake.

  The Peace Corps has many challenges.  That's part of what you sign up for when you volunteer to be a PCV.  Living in different environments, smaller houses, a climate you're not used to, different food, a new culture, less technology, maybe no technology, you're gonna poop in a hole (http://tinyurl.com/6bbc9f6), language troubles, lack of personal space, the water, etc.  They call Peace Corps "the toughest job you'll ever love," and while I can say for certain about the second part (being less than a month into my service), I can attest to the first part.  However, while all those challenges I've listed make the job tough, one of the toughest things about Peace Corps is that you have to face them alone.  Sure, you have the staff support network, maybe a VSN, and you made friends during PST and with people in your town.  But you also left behind all your family and friends.  You are isolated.  And it can be tough at times.  However, what makes it even more difficult is when someone back home dies.

  A few people already know.  My family, some of my closer friends back home and here, and Peace Corps HQ.  A few days ago, I walked into my house after work.  Carrying my laughing host sister in one arm as my host mom joked about how I always seem to have energy, I felt my phone start vibrating in my pocket, and soon the sound of my ringtone was filling my ears.  I put my sister down and went into my room to answer it, noting that it was from my parents' home number.  Well, no biggie.  We haven't talked, other than by e-mail lately.  Maybe they just wanted to check in on me.  Yeah, it was weird timing, since they are never home on weekdays round noon, but who knows.  I answer it, and my mom proceeds to inform me that my grandpa had died a couple hours earlier.  After a few more exchanges with my parents, we decided that there was really no point in my coming home, since making it back in time for the funeral would be impossible, and I have responsibilities here, so leaving would only set me back.

    The truth is, the reality still hasn't sunk in completely.  Yes, I'm sad.  Yes, I'm a little different.  But I haven't really had any time to dwell.  This weekend will be the real test for me.  The day after my phone was constantly going off, with co-workers, people from the Peace Corps office, and the couple of friends here I'd opened up to checking in on me.  But the truth was, I had a class to teach and a youth group to help get started.  I had work to get done.  So, rather than helping, a lot of this just made it harder, forcing me to dwell on the pain when I really had things I felt were more important to take care of right now.  There will be time for grieving later, but my learners need me now.  But throughout the next couple days, things kept getting harder and harder, and I wasn't sure why.  It wasn't exactly sorrow, which surprised me.  It wasn't until I got an e-mail from my dad, telling me about his eulogy and how hard it was and how hard things hit him and my brother when it happened that I realized what was going on.  The reason things were getting so difficult was because I was so far away.  While I had wrapped my mind around the fact that I would likely not see my grandpa again, given his age and health, and had said goodbye to him before I left knowing it would likely be my last, my family had not had that mentality, that acceptance.  That, I feel, honestly helped me not break down.  But that realization also made me aware of the fact that I was not there for my family.  I was not with them at this tough time.

  From my end, I wasn't completely sure who to talk to.  Talking to HQ really wasn't what I needed.  I don't feel I need a grief counselor, though we'll see after this weekend.  I know that I have a number of people from PST I could turn to, but the last thing I needed were people trying too hard to help me or pitying me or anything.  I did have friends I knew would be able to give me my space while offering the appropriate level of support and just talk.  My host family has been great.  Knowing I love to cook, they got me stuff to cook stew with some super fresh (still sort or bleeding) oryx or springbok (my host mom said one, my host dad said the other).  The siblings, who haven't been told the details because they are so young, have still been very supportive and friendly, playing games and actually giving me some space sometimes when I'm trying to read.  My co-workers who know have been very kind, accommodating when I just needed a few minutes alone in my office to clear my head between classes, taking meetings for me when I need a second to catch my breath, and grabbing a drink after work the other day.  The little bits of normalcy definitely help.

  So has writing.  As some people know, a lot of Peace Corps volunteers write books about or during their service.  I've decided to work on one, though it is not really an autobiography or a journal of my service or any of that self-focused stuff (for that, you have this).  Instead, I am taking an idea that's been floating around my head for some time now and using my service and the Peace Corps model in general to write a book discussing the need to change how we look at foreign aid and development.  Because it's more than just helping other people.  It helps ourselves by opening markets, creating trade partners, developing cultural exchanges, and fostering a better relationship between the US and the rest of the world.  Indeed, foreign aid and international development, when done right, can do more for homeland security than any amount of defense spending, since it's a lot easier to defend yourself from people who do not want to hurt you in the first place.  Yes, a lot of my ideas incorporate Tom Friedman (and I will be sure to site appropriately), though I also feel his analogy is a bad one.  The world is not flat, it's just smaller.  I can't guarantee this book will be any good.  I certainly can't promise it won't have any parts that are self-serving (in fact, I'm almost positive it will).  But it will be a reflection of my thoughts, and I feel that's a worthwhile project.

  To be honest, this has not been easy.  I haven't exactly had an easy time these first few months, with my co-worker dying during site visit, my bag issues early on, and some other personal issues I won't get into now.  And losing a loved one is never easy, but it is especially tough when you are so far away from the people you love and care about.  My advice for anyone interested in Peace Corps who might be reading this would be to spend time with any elderly relatives before you leave.  Because they might be there when you get back, but 27 months is a lot longer for them than it is for you, and you might not get another chance.

  I realize this posting is a bit all over the place.  If I wanted to, I could hold off on posting it and re-work it to flow better.  But I feel that it is better that I publish it in my current state of mind, to give a real reflection of how I am feeling.

  So, with all that said, I just want to take a moment to thank those who have been there in this difficult time.  Because while the reality may not set in completely until I return to the States, and can't visit him, the truth is that it hasn't been easy.  So to my friends back home (or overseas), especially Courtney, Amanda, and Meaghan, who have given me encouragement these last few days; to my friends and PC staff and co-workers here, to many to name, though Ria, Emily, Kellie, Alicia, Denise and Steve especially, who have given me someone to talk to and a support structure to make up for the one I am separated from; and to my parents, for reminding me that it's okay to hurt, but that it's more important to keep going; thank you all, so much, for all that you have done and for just being there, and for not letting me consider, for even a second, the option of leaving.  It's good to now there are so many I can turn to for support..But life moves on, and there is no better way to honor the dead than to keep living.  People keep telling me to take time for myself, but the truth is, normalcy in my daily life seems to be helping me more than dwelling, and I have a responsibility to my community, y youth center, and to myself.  So, Grandpa, RIP.  I will still be sending the postcard I already wrote, as a final goodbye.  But now, it is time to get back to work.  And despite your reservations about my leaving, I can't help but think you would've wanted it that way.

Nobody Said It Was Easy

  So, here I am.  Starting my second week of work at the Khorixas Youth Center.

  I guess I'll start with the difficulties, just to get them out of the way.  On Sunday night, we had no electricity.  Honestly, that was no big deal.  A bit annoying since it suddenly went off while I was reading, but otherwise, not really a problem, just something I knew would happen from time-to-time.  The real problem came in the morning, when I needed coffee.  My host parents have been away for about a week, leaving me and the older siblings to take care of the little ones.  This meant that the gas tank for the stove hasn't been refilled.  So still, no coffee.  And to make things worse, Namibians have no concept of respecting personal space or not being loud at 1am, and when my host mom came in, the noise just kept me awake.  So, I lost sleep and no coffee. Awesome.

  I am also trying to teach a class on Microsoft Word at the Center.  After 3 classes, I gave my learners an assignment to see what they had learned.  Turns out, it was very little.  Very few of them had actually retained anything, and they just wanted me to give them answers, getting very frustrated when I tried to make them work out the steps instead.  It also didn't help that they'd spent a total of 1 day learning to type before I arrived.  Once we finish Word, before we move on to anything else, I am going to have to write up an instruction guide and spend a full week on typing, I think.

  Now, onto more interesting happening.  On my second day, a guy came into the Center to try and get help starting an Environmental Club for the youths of the local schools.  While he's all over the place and is struggling to comprehend the concept of coming up with a budget ("you don't just come up with a number, you have to make a list of what items and materials and other costs you need and get a price for them" "so, N$12750?"), he has some very good ideas, and once this gets more organized, I see it turning into a very good club.  Admittedly, some of the ideas and resources I am coming up with to help him are straight out of BSA materials.

  It also seems like GrassRoot Soccer is going to happen.  I talked to a co-worker who plays for the local club, and he and some of his teammates are interested, which is great, because that would mean it's the kind of thing I could start and then pass off after a while.  They also want to incorporate a tournament for youths of the town and nearby villages into the program, which sounds like a lot of  fun, but also a lot of work (getting the field, arranging to have the youths, getting food to entice them to come, getting water, getting people to referee, etc.), so we'll see.  That one may have to wait until I've been here a bit longer.

  The other thing I will be participating in will be starting a tourism center.  Our Center got a donation of computers, printers, scanners, and fax machines from UNESCO.  The guy I share an office with is trying to take those and start a tourism center in a nearby village.  The idea is to help the people keep some of the tourism money coming in from people going to Etosha and Skeleton Coast and Twyfelfontein.  So, I'm going to be helping him with the setting up and training stages.

  Khorixas is very dry, very dusty, and very hot.  I've been coughing quite a bit since I got here, not being used it breathing in this must dust.  The problem is, my host family just assumes I'm sick, and don't understand that no, I'm just not used to breathing air this dusty.  It's getting better, the more time I spend here (though it can be really brutal in the morning while I try to work out), and hopefully I'll adjust soon.  I played soccer with some Namibians this weekend.  It was a lot of fun, and our team had a massive advantage: rather than just trying to dribble past everyone, I was actually able to distribute the ball, making us harder to defend.  As much fun as it was, the pain in my knee that night and the next day was agonizing, so I mostly stayed in bed and did some reading or watched TV with the host kids (I can confirm that America's number one export is still the lousiest elements of our culture, like Hannah Montana and those tween Nick shows).  I did manage to get out for a bit and watch the Chelsea/Everton match at the home of  co-worker (also a Chelsea fan, unlike everyone else at the office, who root for Arsenal).  Also enjoyed seeing Lukaku spoil (sort of) Sir Alex's final match.  I may respect the man, but I still hate him and his club.

  So, all-in-all, it's been a challenging start with its share of bright spots.  Got to have dinner with some other volunteers in my town and one who was visiting.  I have a bar owner who wants to throw me and the volunteer leaving my town a braai.  I have some leads on projects.  I got stuff so I can soon start planting some seeds (I got peppers and okra, and when the season is right, I'll try some pumpkins and other squashes).  I got super tasty Russians at the gas station (a type of sausage).  So, sure there are challenges.  I didn't expect much less.  But a week+ in, and I'm ready to start moving past them.

This warrants it's own post, I guess

A friend of mine alerted me of this article about our swearing-in.  You can sort of see me (or at least my tie) in the photo, though I've posted a better shot of this very picture.

http://www.namibiansun.com/education/peace-corps-health-volunteers-sworn-in.52682

SWEARING IN!!!

  So, I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer. In fact, I'm a card carrying Peace Corps Volunteer. And I have my permanent visa (I'm one of the lucky 2 in my group). I am now in Khorixas, waiting for it to be Friday so I can go have my first day at site.

Yeah yeah yeah, we look good. What else is knew?

Taking the pledge

Prime Minister giving his speech

Hammering that bass

[most of the] Group Photo with CD, PM, and Ambassador with the new PCVs

With my CD...Mr. Gilbert Collins

Thanks for the language lessons, JJ

This group be Khoekhoe

My mama during PST

As part of American cultural day, I had to deliver a speech I helped to write in KKG thanking our host families and for at swearing-in, one of my classmates from my language class had to read another speech in KKG which I wrote (well, I came up with the English version, my instructor translated it). I supposedly did well when I delivered it, though I think that might be because most people don't speak the language and were just impressed that I sort of had clicks in it. Here are those speeches:

Thank You Speech (written by Kaitlynn Jones with help from Jay Salus, read by Jay Salus)

!Gâi tses. Tita ge a Jayb.

Kai Gangans neba, netse has !aroma. ≠Gom da nas ge, !gâi //aeba, du nî u hâsa, sida /kha, neba. Tita tsî ti xrups ge, sado gangansa ra ma, sida di khoexagu, kais !aroma. !Gōm i ge ge i, sida di Amerika /hosan, tsî khoexaguna, khaos ai !gorosa. Xawe du ge, harase sida ge !kho !oa, tsî sadu omdi !na, de ū ≠ga. Tsî //khati, Namibiab !nâ hâ /gausa, //khâ//khâ das !aroma. Tsî /o-aisase, gowaga. //khâ//khâ dasa.

O gangans //nas !aroma. Kai gangans. !Gâi tsesa u hâ re. Khawa mûgus.

Swearing-In Speech (written by Jay Salus, read by Kaitlynn Jones)

!Gâi tses/ /Gam //khâ//khâ, !kharu-hâse, da ge Amerikaba, xu ge ha. Tsî da ge, sida omdi, tsî khoexan, tsî /hosana, khaos ai, ge //naxu. /Gam kuri !nā-hâse, da ge neba, nî sîsen, masenxa-sîsen-aose, ne isa !hub !nâ. O da ge, ne ra sao khoena, ra gangan ≠gao: sida di //khâ//khâ-khâi-aon, tsî /asa khoexan, tsî PCs, tsî kai-//khaes khoena. //în ge, sida tsēdi, tsî !oede, ge //khâ//khâ, tsî hui-≠ui. Sadu a se da ge sida, xu-e di //oa, ge i. Xawe da ge, ne //gōa-≠uide, îa da nî, hode, sadu dî //khâ//khâ-di, /kha nî !oa, tsî sîsen-u. Gangans, sadu si huigu, tsî ≠khâ-!nâdi !aroma. As tsesa, !gâi tsî //khoaxa re.

-Nes Ge Peace Corps Namibiab, Group 37s //khoresa.

So, because I'm sure most of you have no idea what I just said (by the way, typing that up was a pain in the butt), here is the English version of what I just said.

Thank You Speech

Good day. I am Jay.

Thank you for coming this morning, we hope you enjoyed yourselves. My group and I would like to thank you all for becoming our Namibian families. It was hard for us to leave our friends and family back in America, but you have welcomed us with open arms and open doors. You have given us a home, taught us how to live the “Nam” life, become our host families, and helped us learn the languages. We want to thank you for all that you have done.

Great thanks. Have a nice day, See you again.

(if the grammar seems weird, that's because it was reworked to reflect what was said in khoekhoe).

Swearing-In Speech

Good day,

Two months ago we left America, our homes, our families, and our friends to come to Namibia. Over the next 2 years, we look forward to doing our part as volunteers in this beautiful country. We would like to thank all those who have helped us during training: our trainers, our host families, the many Peace Corps staff who have spent hours and days helping us, and the people of Okahandja who have welcomed us and helped us feel at home in this new environment. Without all your help, none of us would have made it here. We welcome the many challenges we are about to face as we go to site and look forward to the wonderful adventures in front of us. Thank you all for your help and support.

-Peace Corps Namibia-Group 37.

Okay, so now that I've done that, I have one more round of personal thank yous. These last few weeks have been anything but easy. I have too many friends, both back in the US and here in Namibia, to name them all, but if you're reading this, you know who you are, and I offer you my gratitude and will reward you all in 2 years when I return. Your support has meant a lot and gotten me through the tough times. To JJ, for teaching us KKG and putting up with all our struggles. Without you, I could never have passed that LPI. To my host mother, Martha, and my wonderful host siblings, who kept me sane during PST and provided me with hours of joy and made adjusting so much easier. I will miss you and can't wait to come back and visit once the new house is ready. To Karen, who has had to put up with so much crap on my behalf, helping with my bag issues and getting us our visas. To Gilbert Collins and Dan Rooney, who despite your importance have always been there when we needed anything. To our amazing trainer Benna (and Uncle Bob for providing us jokes we never really got). To Meme Rachel, for teaching us to sing and being my guardian angel. To Efraem and Jackson and Thenga, who made sure a never went more than a couple hours without knowing the scores of the big matches. To Auntie Kate and Doctor Justin (though you really need to include lollipops with our shots). To the rest of our PST staff. To the resource volunteers, the VSN, and Grace and Steve, who helped show me the ropes. To all the children of Smarties. To the owners of the Garden Cafe and the various bars in town, whose hospitality (and wifi) were quite generous. To my mom and dad, who have done so much to support me, and to the country of Namibia, for making me feel so at home despite being so far from it.

Now that I am a Peace Corps volunteer, I am super excited to begin my work at the Khorixas youth center. But, before I go, I want to put in a shameless plug for Grassroot Soccer. Everyone should look them up, because they are awesome and I look forward to potentially implementing one of their programs at site.

And with that, I leave you so I can spend some time with my new Khorixas host family. Kai gangans. //Khawa mugus, ti /hosana.