Hello from Namibia

  The first thing you notice is how sparse it is.  We're flying over Namibia now, and you look out the window, and you just see space.  A lot of landscape, a lot of desert, some hills and trees, a road here and there, maybe a small body of water.  A few houses here and there, but mostly space and sand.  I'd read about Namibia, and all the info mentioned this fact, but having lived in or near cities all my life, I just couldn't have ever pictured this until I finally saw it with my own eyes.  Think of an oil field in Texas, but without the oil rigs, and you're still not close.

  So, in case you haven't yet figured it out, I've made it to Namibia.  We made it.  All 19 of us who showed up to staging in Philly.  After an afternoon of orientation classes, I had a final dinner with my parents, went out for drinks with a few of my other trainees, and around 2am, I said goodbye to my mom and dad and boarded a bus to New York's JFK airport.  “Here we go” we all thought.  Of course, we get to JFK about 2 hours before the South Africa Air check-in opened, so we had to wait.  Then, once they opened, we went through security, and again, we waited, about 2 hours, until, finally, we were on our plane to Africa.  For about 15 hours.  And then a wait in South Africa.  For about 5+ hours.  Okay, so rather than the climactic start with music blasting and a dramatic slow walk across the runway as we arrived in Namibia, it was mostly a lot of waiting.  I wrote and mailed off a couple post cards from South Africa, got my first Windhoek Lager (not the best beer, but I can certainly live with it).  A long taxi that required a re-fuel, and finally, about 2 hours late, we arrive in Windhoek.  And by we, I mean the volunteers.  And all but 1 bag.  The one with my clothes.  In the grand scheme of things, not the end of the world, and of all the people in the group, it was probably best that it happened to me (it still hasn't arrived, and might not for a week, so tomorrow, one of the trainers is taking me shopping and showing me around the town).

  We were supposed to have a little welcome session, but we arrived so late (after about an hour and a half van ride from the airport in Windhoek to our training center in Okahandja) that they just served us dinner (while we watch the reveal of the new Pope) and hit the sack for a good night's sleep.  Well, some of us.  Well, me.  I think I might be the only one who actually slept the whole night.

  We had our first day of training, got mosquito netting, I took a walk around the town with one of my fellow trainees (I will probably be using names in the future, but for now, until I have permission, they'll remain anonymous).  Not sure which language, but we got our first language lesson on fruit as a bit of a mixer (though one of my fellow trainees and I sort of got lucky and cheated).  This town is really pretty.  It reminds me a bit of Pardes Hanna, to be honest.  A lot of sunshine, which makes me happy.  We had our medical and programming interviews, got our first round of rabies shots, but, otherwise, today's a light day.  So is tomorrow.  I know I left a lot out.  There's no way I could chronicle everything adequately here, but I'm trying to keep a journal of things also for people to look through when I get back.

  However, whenever your day is started by being serenaded in a language you can't even read or pronounce, much less understand, it's gonna be an awesome day. (see Facebook or ask me to e-mail you the videos).

Oh, one more thing. As beautiful as this place is (every time I walk around, I get happier and happier), that's not the best part.  Here's the best part: THE WATER IN THIS COUNTRY IS DRINKABLE IF IT COMES FROM A TAP!!!

Thank You All

  So, it's coming down to the wire.  Nightly freak-outs and mornings lying in better wondering just what I've gotten myself into have basically become a regular thing.  Packing is about half done, and I think I'm finally done buying things I need.  I went to one last Caps game the other night (and they sent me off in style with a 7-1 victory over the Panthers), and tonight I'm going to the DC United home opener for a final thing with my family.  About a week ago, my mom threw me a "Goodbye Party" and a few friend and I went out for one last night of fun before I spent my last week running around and getting things ready.

Sick goal

  As you all know, these last few days have been crazy.  And exhausting.  And stressful.  And nerve-racking.  I'm basically going insane.  And, for the love of God, people, please, I'm begging you, stop giving me advice.  It's not that I don't appreciate it; I really do.  It's just that I can only process so much.
  On the other hand, I would like to take some time to thank a few people.  All of you who helped me during the application process, my friends and family who put up with me during the stressful application process and these last few weeks as reality has set in.  Those of you who have driven around with me as I pick up what I need or have advised me on what to get.  Those of you who took the time to see me during my "Goodbye Trip," and especially the Hopkins family, Tommy, Cooch/Cammack/VH, and Courtney/Courtney's family for letting me stay with you during the trip.  To the many friends, especially Rob and Elyse, who've had to deal with my freak-outs.  To those of you who have taken the time to offer advice and words of encouragement.  Like I said, I appreciate it, just one person at a time, maybe?  To all of you who have given gifts (if I haven't already, I will also be thanking you directly very soon).  To all of you who gave me book or last-minute music recommendations.  To DC101, for being the unofficial soundtrack to my driving around getting stuff and for torturing me with all the "Shamrock Fest" and "Chili Cook-off" ads.  To Steve, for helping me get ready physically.  To my parents, for all the money and time spent helping me get ready.  And to all of you who have been there over these last few years, during the rough times, the stressful times, the crazy times, and for some reason continue to put up with me.  I will miss all of you.  Thank you all for all the help, support, kindness, friendship, advice, and for just being there.

Contacting me

On a lighter note, I feel like some of you may want to contact me.  I will still have my personal e-mail going for friends and family (for those of you who need it, feel free to call/text/contact me through Facebook), and when I can, I will try to make time for Skype, but for anyone interested in getting in touch with me about my Peace Corps experiences, I will also be reachable by mail.  It may be slower, so plan accordingly (according to the Peace Corps, mail can take up to a month to reach me).  My mailing address during training will be as follows:

For mail/packages sent through USPS-

(My name)

c/o Peace Corps Namibia

P.O. Box 6862

Windhoek

Namibia 9000

Namibia

For packages sent through DHL (express shipping)-

(My name)

c/o Peace Corps Namibia

19 Nachtigal Street

Ausspannplatz

Windhoek

Namibia

I will warn you that they may search through my mail, so sending me valuables may be difficult, but I'd love to receive mail, and if anyone wants to receive post cards from me, just send me your mailing address.  I'm getting a list going.  I make no promises during training, but once I settle in I will try and mail post cards to those on my list ever couple months (could be more or less frequent, depending on how much it costs).

Another thing Peace Corps recommends, since mail can sometimes get lost, is numbering your letters to me, so I know if I missed one.

Are you scared?

  Okay, so, one of the most common questions friends and strangers have asked me when talking about these last few weeks leading up to my departure is "are you nervous/scared/frightened?"  The short answer is yes.  In fact, I'm terrified.  I'm scared out of my mind.  In my experience, starting a new job is always a bit scary.  Add in the fact that I'll be living in a completely different country, where English may officially be the language but isn't as widely spoken as it is here, with different cultures, different diets, less technology, etc.  Basically, I'm leaving behind my entire life.  Everything I own, everything I'm used to, my comfort zone, I'm leaving it all behind.  Just like I did when I went to Israel, though this is to an even larger degree.  And unlike Israel, I'm leaving family and friends behind.  On Year Course, I knew a couple people going in.  I had a cousin in Israel.  I don't know anyone in Namibia, and other than a few Facebook exchanges, I don't really know anyone I'm doing this with.  I'm hoping to bring a couple DC/Tulane relics to provide me a little comfort zone in my home over there for when I get homesick.
  That being said, it's not the changes that terrifies me the most.  I'm going abroad for 2 years.  I'm going to have limited communication with my friends back here.  For 2 years, they're all going to have more-or-less lives that are completely Jay-free.  I'm terrified about how much is going to change while I'm gone.  I'm scared that by the time I get back, I'll be completely out of everybody's lives.  Of course, I know that's a bit extreme, but when I look back at all the changes over the last 2 years, and how much more will change over the next 2, with friends starting to get married, have kids, move away, etc., it's hard to try and predict where I'll fit in when I get back.  I'm terrified that as I say goodbye to people (my fair-well tour now on it's final leg), in some cases, it might be the last time I ever see them.  As my departure date approaches, reality sets in more each day.
  However, I don't want this to sound all doom-and-gloomy.  I'm really excited.  I'm really looking forward to this.  I can't wait to get there, to meet the people I will be training with, to meet the community I will be living in, and to get started with my service.  But the honest truth is, as excited as I am, of course I'm scared. And I wouldn't have it any other way.  Everyone likes to talk about the Robert Frost line about the road less traveled.  I've never been a fan.  To me, it's not about the road less traveled, so much as the road I, as an individual, have yet to travel down.  "All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us".  Sometimes that decision requires leaving our comfort zone.  And those who have never been scared rarely, if ever, leave their mark or reach their full potential.  So I'm glad I'm scared, glad that this is going to be a challenge.  Because otherwise, anybody could do.  Otherwise, it would not be as fulfilling a use of the time I have been given.

Saying Goodbye

  So, a month from yesterday, I report for my staging in Philadelphia, and a month from today (as my dad pointed out), my plane with be on the runway, waiting for me to board.  I still have a few more things to get before I leave, and I obviously have to find a way to fit in in my bags.  I also have some orientation videos still to watch, but I'm at a point where I'm mostly ready to go.  So now it's time to say goodbye.  The first leg of my journey has taken me to Texas.
  On Friday morning, I flew into Houston to spend the night with my mom's friend from when she served in Honduras.  After a quick meal of gorditas (the real thing, not the Taco Bell version), we went to the Museum of Fine Arts to see their exhibit on Spanish portraits and look as some gold and pottery from Africa and pre-Colombian Latin America.  We spent the rest of the night relaxing, chatting, watching news of the storm pounding the northeast (where my brother and the younger son of my mother's friend both attend college).  For the record, the suffix "eaux" is pronounced "oh", in case you had any doubts.
  The next morning got off to a slow start.  In fact, I had forgotten how nice it feels to wake up without my alarm blasting.  After a short walk around the lake they lived on, my mother's friend's husband cooked up some steaks and seared tuna with some sticky veggies mix (sort of like a gumbo).  As good as the food was, the best part might've been the homemade hot sauces he put out.  After lunch, we packed up and headed down to Galveston to experience what they consider Mardi Gras.
  Now, if there's one thing I've realized in my short time in Galveston, it's that it's a lot like New Orleans.  Only not quite, in every way. It's hard to put into words, almost a New Orleans lite, which is not to say it's worse or better.  Oh, also, they have a beach. Which brings us back to our story.  So, after quickly stopping in at Tommy's to drop off a case of Shiner beer and say hi to his cats, we got back in the car and headed over to the Seawall for the parade.  The way Mardi Gras works in Galveston is a bit different from New Orleans.  There are 2 celebrations.  One is over the Strand, and it costs money.  Having lived in New Orleans for 4 years, there was no way in hell I was going to pay to celebrate Mardi Gras, especially after having lived through the best Mardi Gras celebration north of Rio (from what I hear).  So, we decided to enjoy the free celebration over at the Seawall.  We'd gotten there a bit early, so (after finding a bathroom without too long a line), we explored a couple stores, grabbed a couple drinks, and sat around until the parade started.  Like I said, Galveston is New Orleans lite, and the parade made this very clear.  The floats were a little smaller, they were stingier with the throws, which were also a lot less exciting that the ones in the Big Easy.  The marching bands were good, but like in New Orleans, they all played the same walk-beat, and half of them walk-beated past us.  Still it was an enjoyable night.
  After the parade, my mom's friends gave me a lift back to Tommy's, where I said goodbye to them and spent the rest of the night hanging with Tommy, his kitties, and Sarah, who had come down from Houston that night.
  The next morning I began really exploring Galveston.  After a walk around Tommy's neighborhood and a quick trip to Walgreens, I went over to the Strand.  Since there was nothing going on for the Mardi Gras celebration that day, I was able to avoid paying.  After checking out a couple stores I stopped into a bar called Brews Brothers to watch a band perform.  It was typical Bourbon Street type music, though the bar itself was pretty fun and the beer was nice.  After walking around some more (and getting a free pork taco), watching a couple other bands perform, some amazing fudge, and snapping a few photos, I made my way back to Tommy's to avoid the oncoming rain storm.  The next day I went back to the Seawall.  I figured it would be nice to see it on a day when it wasn't crowded.  A nice walk, but the highlight was meeting an off-duty cop.  I was wearing my Tulane hoodie and walking around with my camera.  So he came up and started asking me about New Orleans and the Mardi Gras down there.  After chatting a bit, we decided to wait out a rainstorm by grabbing a couple burgers and some rum at The Spot.  And then, when the rain ended, some more walking around, and made my way back to the Strand.
  Today is my last day in Galveston.  Later today, I'll be taking a bus back to Houston overnight, and then catch another to New Orleans in the morning.  I'm going to do some more exploring now, but I will leave you with a few photos.

The lake

Seawall, getting ready for the parade

Old ladies

Feeding time for the poor souls who actually beg for beads

For you, Courtney

Mixture of the old and the new 

"THE BEGINNING OF THE END" I find that a fitting sign

Winston, who never leaves that spot

And Tam