Disclaimer to start: this is how I'd hoped to be remembered. If I'm being totally honest, this is a bit hopeful. The partying and some of the mistakes I've made will certainly be left in the memory of some. I'm far from a perfect person. The good news, this one will be shorter than the last few posts. So, here we go.
Obviously, I hope I'm remembered for my work. There was a volunteer here a few years back named Jill, who people still ask me about, even though I've never actually met her in person (we're Facebook friends), and I hope people talk about the way they do her. People ask about Grace all the time- another PCV remembered fondly. I'm sure my computer classes will leave at least some with good memories of the work I did. Same with a few of my HIV-related trainings. When I told some of the kids from our gym club I won't be here too much longer, several expressed disappointment. My boss is still trying to find ways to get me to stay a third year. I am a hard worker, efficient, dependable. Diverse skill set. Creative. And so on. And I definitely people in my community remember me for it.
One thing I've done has been try to also further my work through the examples I set and the life I live. I really hope a few people learn from the examples I've set during our nights out. Alcohol abuse is a MASSIVE problem in Namibia. No point in denying it or sugar coating it. Namibians, practically without exception, fall into one of two groups: people who never drink a single sip or people who can't have a sip without drinking until they get blind, stumbling around, no control over their choices drunk. Sure, I drink. I've even drank a little too much once or twice. But, generally, I have a beer or two and stop. I don't have to get drunk, drink away my entire paycheck on payday. Hopefully, a few of my friends will follow that example. A lot of efforts to resolve other health issues (like HIV, youth pregnancy, and violence against women, for a few examples) would be greatly furthered if Namibians would simply learn to drink responsibly. It's not difficult. It just takes a little self-control. Hopefully people remember me for being a responsible drinker.
Hopefully Den and Taylor, the two PCVs currently in town with me, will remember me as a good friend. I try to be a support structure. Maybe even a bit of a mentor. After all, I'd been here over a year before them. I knew people, the way things worked, and some of the things the community needed. I also knew some of the struggles they would face, and I've tried to help them through them. Hopefully, they remember me at my best, as their friend, and as someone they could, and still can after I leave, always turn to.
Of course, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Or, in this case, Jay. Fortunately, I'm a guy who likes having fun. And no, despite the way New Orleans has infected my personality, that doesn't have to include alcohol. God knows I'm always quick with a joke, and hopefully a couple of them were found funny. I love soccer, and I know people will remember me for that (after all, I'm trying to raffle off a few of my jerseys, since people were getting a little aggressive in trying to convince me they deserved them more than other people). Maybe one or two of the people who have seen me reading will realize it's okay to turn off the TV every now and then, put down the bottle, and just pick up a book. Who knows? Maybe our town's library will finally get some use. Oh, and then there is the braai master side of me. Yes, some of us white people are able to make a fire. Sure, I prefer to use firelighter instead of plastic bags. It's just quicker and better for the environment. But, if that's not available, get me some grass, a cardboard box from the trash, empty egg cartons, random scraps of paper, or anything which burns, and I can make it happen. And, of course, I grill up some good meat. Not an opinion, a fact.
And then there is my host family. Hopefully they have fond memories of me. I'm sure my host mom, Esna, will think of me every time she enjoys trying to make my hot sauce (I left her the recipe, since she likes it so much). I definitely hope they remember me as a good "son" who, while not a eat freak, did his part around the house, with some cooking, laundry, and watching the little ones. I'm sure the kids will remember me fondly. We've had a lot of fun, after all. Teaching them to throw a Frisbee, playing soccer, my one card trick, my camera, Skyping my mom, dad, and Dan, my hair (they loved playing with it), the guitar, and the candy I used to buy their love.
Overall, I think people will remember me fondly. I may be no saint (despite the hat I occasionally wear), but I think I'm a decent person, a good friend, and not too bad of a role model. Perhaps in a few years I'll get a friend request on Facebook from someone I've never met, telling me they're the new PCV in Khorixas, and a bunch of people say "matisa". Even if the projects themselves die out, maybe I've left a legacy (no, Gideon, not the kind of legacy you keep telling me I need to leave) which will have a lasting impact. Sustainability and success in development work, after all, sometimes requires changing the definition and scopes of the terms.
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