Namibia Votes, part 2

Line of people waiting to vote

  So, Friday was the election here in Namibia. We now know that SWAPO and Hage Geingob, as expected, did quite well. According to New Era, roughly 1.2 million votes were cast for 516 female and 623 male candidates from 16 parties fighting for 104 seats in the National Assembly. With roughly 41% of votes verified, Hage Geingob is sitting at over 80% in his quest to be the next president of Namibia, and SWAPO looks to have a major majority of National Assembly seats, in the mid-to-high 70s% range.

  Feel free to keep yourself updated on the exact numbers, but that's not what this post is about. What I am here to write about is the election day itself. But, I will start the night before. Thursday was Thanksgiving, as most of you know. Taylor, Den, and I decided to treat ourselves to a little dinner at the local lodge, and afterwards hit a local bar for a couple drinks. A number of people were wearing SWAPO-related articles of clothes, chanting slogans in the bar. Two cars, one with a UDF flag, the other with SWAPO colors, were parked out front, and were loading up to drive around rallying last-second support. For much of the night, I was hearing the horns of these "roving rallies".

My co-worker waiting to make her voice heard

  Friday morning, I was awoken by the sounds of the people lining up to vote. After making coffee, I made my way outside with my camera, just to get a glimpse. The line was long, easily over 50 people, and this was before the polls had even opened. By later in the day, it would get longer. It didn't help that they moved slowly, as the new voting machines took some getting used to (in fact, the voters themselves had to sit with election officials, who would help them work the machines, unlike the private and completely secret method of the States). A few entrepreneurs took advantage of the heat, selling ice pops (frozen sandwich bags of Oros) for N$1 each, people chatted, there were chairs. Unfortunately, we had no water, so there were no toilets for those waiting. As they would see me, various co-workers and friends would call me over, we'd chat a bit about what elections in the US are like, about the weather, and about the upcoming festive season. It was actually rather calm and friendly.

  Of course, it wouldn't stay that way. As I sit in my flat, 2 days later, the SWAPO victory celebration is going on. Cars speeding around, blasting music, swerving all over the road, honking their horns, flags flying, people chanting. A number of people have tried to sell me all their homemade SWAPO swag. During my brief trip to a bar last night (still no water, so I needed to borrow their bathroom), I was greeted by revelers.

Den

  So, what else did I do Friday? After all, I wasn't voting, and didn't plan to just sit in my flat all day. Well, around 11, I took my guitar and went over to my host family's place for a couple hours to play with the kids and hang out. Around 2, I left and stopped at the gas station for a meat pie, before returning to my flat for a short nap (those kids tire me out). And, in the evening, Taylor, Den, and I had a little picnic and watched the sunset. Overall, it was a pretty nice day.

  So, one question you may be asking is "how did the electronic voting go over?" Well, I obviously can't say for sure. For the most part, the people I talked to had no issue. It did seem take some of the privacy from voting, though not having been here for past elections, I can't say how secret those ballots were. One of the big issues was the time. New Era and The Namibian were posting polling picture pics on their Facebook pages, and from what I could make out, it seems voting went long past when it was supposed to end, possibly even until the next morning. Of course, this was the first time electronic ballots were used, so it isn't too much of a surprise that there were some hiccups. The Election Commission is considering moving away from one-day voting in the future to help with the lines.




  Now, while my personal experience ended up being quite pleasant, there were a few issues. The Namibian posted pictures of SWAPO flags being flown over polling stations, and there were some issues with people being drunk. For fuller coverage of these incidents, I highly recommend checking out the Facebook pages for The Namibian, New Era, and The Sun. There are some excellent photos (far better than my own), and more complete articles than the blurbs I've linked to.

  Overall, I'd say election day here wasn't too different from America. The biggest difference is that because Namibia takes longer to count the votes, you didn't have people huddled around TV watching as the news channels (or John Stewart/Steven Colbert) called each state. Sorry for this post not being particularly deep, but I do hope you found it a little interesting, and maybe even informative.

Votes being cast

Blind Mike, after voting, enjoying an ice

Namibia Votes, part 1

  So, it's election time in Namibia (we even got a mention on the WaPo website). No, this is not going to be a political post (feel free to take a moment to celebrate you're not being subjected to my long-winded views). Instead, I want more to share the culture of elections in Namibia. So, basically, we have presidential elections every 5 years. Our current president, Hifikepunye Pohamba, our second president, is stepping down after 2 terms (he is limited to two terms, but we've seen how well term limits work in other developing democracies). While Namibia is a democratic system on paper, there is no real suspense, as everyone knows SWAPO's candidate, current Prime Minister Hage Geingob, is going to win. Namibia is described as a "one party dominant" democracy. The truth is, it's more of a proto-democracy. Yes, people vote, but the voting is more of a formality, given how much control SWAPO has, and as Samuel Huntington said, you truly become a democracy when you have your second change of power (the so-called "two turnover" test, which is one of the things I actually agree with Huntington on).

  Okay, enough of the boring political science lecture. Seeing as most of you had to Google Namibia the first time I told you I was coming here (it's okay, so did I), I doubt you're interested in taking a class on the politics of Namibia, and even if you were, you probably don't want me to be the teacher. Instead, what you really want to know is what is it like being here for an election, and how it compares to the US. If you want local coverage, feel free to go to my links tab, or be lazy and just click on these links for Namibia's major English language newspapers, New Era, The Namibian, The Namibian Sun, and The Windhoek Observer (okay, maybe not as big a paper as the other 3, but I went to Windhoek for my first VAC meeting last week, and their office was right down the street from the hotel), as well as the Namibian Broadcasting Corporation (NBC).

  Now, for my experiences (after all, isn't that what this blog is supposed to be about?). One of Peace Corps' rules is that I am not allowed to engage in local politics. Sure, I may just smile, nod, and pretend to agree with what someone said about a politician in order to avoid a confrontation, or even just give a "Viva SWAPO" or "Viva UDF" when people say it to me in order to avoid conflicts with drunk politicized people (my office is, after all, used to hot party rallies from time-to-time). However, for those of you who have ever been on social media in the days leading up to an election, or who have lived in a very political place, like DC, are aware, it can often be impossible to avoid being sucked into political conversations. A lot of people take the attitude that whether or not you agree with their politics, you should support SWAPO, because they are going to win, so it's better to be on their good side, especially if you work for government in any way (such attitudes make me cry, though blind support for party name is just as bad in the US).

  Rallies remind me a lot of the US. Just not necessarily political rallies in the US. No, it's more the last quarter of a Redskins-Cowboys games. People wear shirts and hats for the party they support, wave flags and banners, chant the party name, sing soccer-style songs, blow whistles, etc. Party support generally comes down to tribal divides, racial divides, and regional divides, with SWAPO, who were the guys who led the war of Independence, being far and away, the biggest party. Another thing you see here is people driving around in open-back bakkies, with party stickers, colors, candidates' faces, and flags adorning them, blasting music out of speakers on the bed. There are signs all over the place with The Honourable Dr. Hage Geingob's face on them in my town (even though UDF has a major presence here). We have a national holiday for the election.

  One interesting thing about this election is I believe this is the first time Namibia will be using the electronic ballots for the election. Some people have voiced concern over corruption with the machines, and it will be interesting to see how people who have never used such technology react to the machines. Right now, my office is being used to train election officials to set up, use, and fix the machines, in case of any issues. Long-term, this is an exciting shift, and I don't really think it will have much impact on results, but I'm curious to see how electronic voting is received in Namibia.

  Instead of actually concluding this post, I'm going to "pause" it. You may have noticed this one is "part 1". Check back next week (or maybe this weekend) for "part 2", which will be my talk of election day itself, as well as kind of the concluding of this post. I will answer such questions of "How were the machines receive?" and "What were the results?" and "What does an American do when he can't vote?" and "Do Namibians get 'I Voted' stickers", among other pressing concerns I am sure are now running through your mind.

Counting Down

  So, it's time for me to start thinking about my upcoming Completion of Service (COS). In a little over half a year, I'll be on my way back to the US (I know a few people who are looking forward to this, and a few who wouldn't mind if I stayed here forever, or at least a bit longer). So, it's time to start preparing for that day. There are two parts to that preparation. First, is making arrangements so that when I leave, my work can continue. The other is figuring out what the heck I'm going to do.

  First, my work. The project towards which I've put in the most time has been my computer classes. My counterpart was the teacher before I got there. Sadly, he left our office a few months back to join the police force. I am currently in the process of training a new teacher, though some minor problems with the equipment (like most of the computer lab not actually working at the moment) has slowed that down. On top of that, I am working on putting together a resource drive and binder of the resources I've created. These include the pre-class survey, in-class practices, and exams for my computer classes, some life skills program pre-/post-tests, and some of the materials from the health club. Running the health club has mainly been handed off to Taylor, with me leading some of the day of stuff, and her running the planning, for the most part, which has been the case since she arrived (mainly because the gym is at her office). My English class has more or less died, due to attendance issues. I found a new coach for my soccer team, set to take over in January. I still have a few smaller projects I intend to start/continue, but the big stuff seems to be taken care of.

  Which brings me to the other part of planning for my COS. I am in the process of applying to law schools, after which I will begin working on job applications. I am also studying for the GRE and looking into a few Masters programs, mainly Public Health, Public Policy, and Idev. We'll see how that pans out. I'm also working on planning a small road trip to visit friends and family, as well as hopefully check out housing for law school, assuming I go to school outside the DC area. So, if anyone wants me to add them to potential stops along the way, let me know. And, of course, trying to plan ways to visit places over here I haven't had a chance to make it to yet.

  Of course, the biggest question for me seems to be what I want my first meals back to be. The obvious answer would be seafood, since it's not easy to get in Khorixas, whereas Maryland is famous for it. I've also found myself missing New Orleans food, not counting the imitations I make using the "wrong" ingredients here. There's also the Deli, since a good corned beef sandwich doesn't exist here. And I can't discount the fact that the DC area has such a diverse selection of food from so many different countries. After all, I do like Thai, Middle Eastern, Indian, Chinese, Mexican, etc. Of course, I would definitely put my money on something spicy, knowing me and the lack of kick in food over here. I do have plenty of time left to figure that one out, and my family will probably have some say in that one. For sure, the most important thing for me will probably be having a decent beer selection, since, while beer here is decent, especially for the cost, I miss the variety available in the US. This may seem minor to you all back in the States, but when you go two years in relative isolation, with limited options for eating out, these conversations come up a lot when we get together.

  I'm no longer at the point where I count up the months I've spent here in Namibia. Instead, I'm counting down the months I have left (roughly, since I don't have an exact COS date yet). Of course, 7-ish months is still a lot of time to get things done, and I will continue to put in the same effort I have been, but now, I also have to keep an eye on the clock so it doesn't run out on me before I'm ready.

  We have an election coming up in November. In the least political way I can, I hope to write about it and how campaigns her compare to the US, as well as a little about the results (though I refer you to my links tab for more in-depth coverage, unbound by requirements of remaining political neutral/apathetic). I will be attending my first meeting as my training group's representative to VAC (the Peace Corps version of Student Government). In December (re-scheduled due to the local elections), my group is planning a Thanksgiving dinner in Opuwo, complete with a trip to Epupa falls. I will also hopefully be taking a day to collaborate with a good friend as a guest speaker in a class she runs, and helping Den, the new teaching volunteer in Khorixas, get used to the town.

I Went to Africa and All I Got Was This T-Shirt

  So, with Ebola in the news, I want to once again clarify that Africa is, in fact, very big. After all, now that it's made it to Texas, YOU are actually probably closer to it than I am. So, stop asking me about it. A friend and I were actually recently joking about how ill-informed Americans seem to be with their comments on the Ebola situation so we're planning on making t-shirts that say "I Spent 2 Years in Africa and Didn't Get Ebola" (the picture below will be on the back, on something like it). Either that, or "I Went to Africa and All I Got Was This D@MN T-Shirt...And a Nasty Case of Ebola". Seriously, though, I'm safe.

Okay, I realize it's spread a little more than this picture says, but it's still pretty far away, and while Africa may look like the sole of your foot, it's quite a bit bigger, and those lines are countries, not just decorations.

Save Me A Hat

  How is it that waking up to news that the Nats clinched the playoffs last night comes closer to making me homesick than the holidays? Save me a hat or t-shirt(s), DC. #Natitude

News Back Home

  One of the hardest parts of being a Peace Corps volunteer is leaving everyone behind. Their lives go on, and some of them have major life events take place while you're gone. They get married, have kids, get new jobs. While most of this blog is about me, this post is not. This is about a few friends back home. The internet has allowed me to have a far easier time keeping up with people back home than it was when my mother was a volunteer. This has often been helpful, but sometimes, I will see something and a pain for not being there with friends to celebrate with them or be a comfort. So I'll do the best I can right now.

  First of all, I want to congratulate my good friend Phil Sharp on getting married. Phil and I were housemates when I lived in Israel, and he was one of my closest friends during that time in my life. Phil, I wish you and Jenna the very best as you start the next stage in your life. May you have many happy years together.

  Another friend of mine who got married is Toby Kathan, who helped me through my years in the Boy Scouts, and while we drifted apart during the last few years, I wish you the best.

  While I could probably fill up a post simply congratulating all the people I know who've gotten married during the past year (the reality of people my age), the truth is, those are the two which really stuck out to me.

  A few months back I wrote a post about Tulane President Scott Cowen retiring. President Cowen, I want to once again offer my thanks for all you did for Tulane. I will never forget the cup of coffee, and my professor's response when I told him why I was late to class that day. And then there was the green hair at homecoming. When I tell people I went to Tulane, one of the most common responses has been comments on how good a school it is, and that is in no small part thanks to your leadership, and while I don't latter myself enough to think you are reading this blog, I hope you know that I am among those who greatly appreciate all you've done for the school and the city of New Orleans. And President Michael Fitts, I wish you all the best as you assume the tall task of filling those massive shoes.

  Finally, Tulane University's marching band is getting ready to perform for the first time in our brand new stadium. They have been preparing for several weeks now, and they've been doing so without the leadership of long-time assistant band director, Mark Lighthiser. Mark has left the band for a new life in Porland, Oregon. While we may not have always gotten along (the tensions of an instructor/student dynamic), I want to offer you my thanks for helping me improve as both a musician and as a person, and wish you all the best.

  While there are many more people I wish I could mention, to do so would take too long, and I'd surely leave someone out, so I'll stop there. To all my friends and family back home, whether you've undergone significant changes in your life or not, I wish you all the best and can't wait to see you all again in a few months. You are all constantly in my thoughts.

Rebirth

Note: This post is being put up a day later than intended, due to my town not having electricity the entire afternoon, keeping me from finishing and posting on time. I am leaving the date-specific references as they were because I feel they are relevant to the sentiments expressed in this post.

  Today is August 29. While that date may not be super meaningful for everyone, for those of us with a connection to New Orleans, especially a connection formed around or shortly after 2005, that date means quite a bit. Now, I'm sure most of you figured out what that date means, now that I've given you a year and city as a reference point. August 29 is the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina making landfall. Now, before I go on, I want to clarify that I was not in New Orleans at the time of the storm. In fact, I hadn't even begun applying to colleges yet, and wouldn't for about another year. However, that storm directly brought me to New Orleans and played an impact on my life going forward.

  However, my purpose in this post is not to talk about me, though I will inevitably end up connecting this back to my service later. I just felt a bit homesick after seeing some friends back home posting articles in remembrance of the storm. So, before I go on, I would advise you to make your way to Nola.com for some excellent coverage. It may no longer be a daily, but the Times-Pic, in my opinion, remains one of the better local newspapers. There are two articles in particular I would like to direct you to. The first is a collection of photos by Ted Jackson. They depict the destruction left by Katrina, but if you click on the photos and drag your mouse across, you will see the photos change to more or less the exact same shot, 9 years later. One of the best views of the visual representations of the city's rebirth since Steve Gleason blocked that punt on Monday Night Football (or the Saints Super Bowl title a few years later). And while none of pictures depicts homes I worked on, I can't help but feel a sense of pride seeing the changes, knowing I, along with millions of other people who picked up hammers and pry bars and paint buckets, played a big part in that. Another article discusses the way people have preserved or memorialized their "Katrina X" on their homes, which, when juxtaposed with repaired homes, serve as "tattoos" to remind people that while the city may be rebuilt, it has also been changed and the impacts linger on. For a fuller coverage, here is the link.

  However, I'm not here to simply share other people's work with you. After all, if you're interested, you've probably seen some of these yourself. However, on the anniversary of Katrina, I was trying to explain the recovery to my colleagues this morning, and I shared that Steve Gleason link, though I'll admit, while the photos of the damage the flooding and the "then and now" link made an impression the football play kind of missed it's mark with them. In my case, though, it got me thinking. It got me thinking about activism. Steve Gleason's career ended not long after that block, in part at least, because of his having ALS, which has been getting a lot of press lately, in case you live under a rock. The Ice Bucket Challenge is the latest national activism campaign to go viral (granted, unlike many of its predecessors, like the infamous #Kony2012, which I often use as an example of a bad campaign, actually includes people doing something that might help by donating money). A number of charity and issue awareness campaigns go viral these days, especially with Facebook and Twitter giving such an easy forum. Peer pressure tends to make these appealing. They're also very easy to participate in, feel like you've made a meaningful difference, and not have to do too much work on your own.

  Likewise, after Hurricane Katrina, millions of people donated money to help New Orleans rebuild. Some even took time to come down and help build homes, pass out food and water, or help out in other ways. Like viral campaigns, major natural disasters get a lot of attention, and, as a result, a lot of donations. Once again, it's easy. SMS something to a specific number, and your phone will be charged a donation to the Red Cross. It makes people feel good. Their money goes towards helping people. While I could go and enter into a very negative discussion about the issues and downsides of contributing to campaigns like these, I won't. If you want my opinions, we can talk privately (see my contact info on this blog). However, this post is about rebirth. With that in mind, I want to keep things more positive and optimistic,

  No, I'm not going to criticize national campaigns. They do help a wide number of people. However, national campaigns also tend not to be the most efficient way to help people. After all, they have more operational costs as they deal with PR issues, legal issues, and trying to support operations nationwide. People often forget there are a lot of people in their own communities in need of help. Donating a few dollars is easy. However, you don't have any say what the organization does with the money. Does it go towards researching new treatments? Or, does it go towards support network for those suffering from ALS? Or, something else? In the case of Katrina, does it go towards buying food? Building homes? The clustf*** of organizations often making each other redundant and getting in each others' ways? It takes a lot more work, but actually taking some time and looking up what research is being done by who and what support networks are out there, etc. goes a lot further, as you now exactly where the money is going. And, while I picked up a hammer and helped build homes in New Orleans, the truth is, we often forget in times of disaster that there are people in our own towns who need food and homes, and your time will go just as far as it does in disaster zones, and you save on gas. Not to say you shouldn't donate to national charities. Just don't forget your own back yard.

  Another common thread between Katrina and the Ice Bucket Challenge and other viral campaigns is "Katrina fatigue." People are quickly tiring of the Ice Bucket Challenge, quickly tiring of the videos, and with it has been a rise in articles criticizing the Challenge, questioning if the money is actually going towards things, or if ALS really deserves the attention. Withing days, #Kony2012 was being mocked mercilessly (and I'd admit taking part, especially since it was juxtaposed with all the Obama2012/Romney2012 campaigns). With natural disasters, donations quickly slow down. While everyone expressed sorrow after Katrina, pretty soon, people were asking whether the city was worth bringing back. After all, wouldn't this happen again? Couldn't the money be spent better? What about the corruption/crime/poverty? Couldn't Katrina be a sign from God trying to wash away a city so full of excesses and sin? Sure, for a few months, the donations were rolling in. For a few years people were coming down to help. Now, when I say New Orleans is still being rebuilt, they ask how that can be the case, almost a decade later. Corruption played a part, as did controversial (to be nice) insurance programs. But the real thing is that after a while, people stopped caring and fewer and fewer volunteers were coming down. People were finally getting some money to start rebuilding homes, but suddenly they'd lost the people who were going to provide the labor at the prices they could afford. This year, I chose to look how it was being covered in the DC area. Surely, a paper as large as The Washington Post would have something. Well, they did. A small blurb in an "on this day in history" article and a picture of A-1 from August 30. Which was more than The Washington Times included. In fact, very few national news sources made note of it (next year being a big, round tenth anniversary might be different, but compare that to the annual articles and commemorations around the country of 9/11). Despite the fact that Joseph Kony has yet to be brought to justice and the conflicts still exist in Uganda, it's largely disappeared from the media (both mainstream and social). It'll be interesting to see whether the donations for ALS charities continue next year and down the road. Which, again, comes back to helping out in your own back yard. National charities are great for getting attention and donations quickly, but grass roots activism tends to produced sustained support. After all, how long are people in Wyoming really going to stay interested in a conflict in Uganda which has already been going on for years? It's too far away for them to feel connected, and they aren't seeing immediate results. And that's the key. People want to see immediate results. Sure, seeing a house go up in New Orleans provides a measure of immediate visible results. And then you're told that house is merely a drop in the recovery bucket. People get discouraged, doubting if their donations and concern are making a difference. The way to overcome this is for the people to have a real connection to the cause. Many people who are giving in response to the Ice Bucket Challenge also have a list of charities and causes they donate to every year. These causes get their money without a viral campaign, largely because the person donating has a personal stake; a relative who suffered from/died from a certain disease, a friend who lived in that disaster area, a connection to a school, etc. That's why it's so important to get involved in your own back yard. Because that homeless man you served soup to, he's the same guy who maybe bags your groceries or danced with you at Mardi Gras or whatever. Or maybe he's the guy who out of desperation might end up breaking into your home. Or maybe you simply have the bond of cheering for the same football team on Sunday. Maybe you have no bond, but realize by helping those in need in your community, you can help property values go up. Or any of the other many reasons. The point is, when the problem is in your back yard, rather than several states away, you're more likely to have a connection, and more likely to make helping the cause a regular thing, rather than a one-shot deal and an issue you'll tire of hearing about next month. Just something to consider.

  Of course, for some people, the rebuilding of New Orleans IS in their back yard. One thing I loved about Tulane is that every year, the school commemorates Katrina with Outreach Tulane. It's Tulane's biggest day of community service (unless you count MLK Day, which I don't, since those numbers include Xavier and Loyola and Dillard, not just Tulane). For all the criticism Tulane has taken from the community (especially from those living on or near Broadway or the new stadium), Tulane has certainly made rebuilding the city very personal, even offering masters programs in disaster response/preparedness (I'll admit, I don't know the exact program, having heard of it from a friend applying, rather than looking into it myself). And it does show in the activism and volunteerism of many graduates. I am friends with another PCV from Tulane, and there are many more I don't know, as well as a large number of AmeriCorps and TFA volunteers, as well as students who find time on weekends or after work. Now, obviously, not everyone adopts this volunteerism spirit, but it certainly is something the school emphasizes, and is a direct response to Hurricane Katina.

  The rebuilding of New Orleans in an ongoing process. New Orleans will never be exactly what it was before the storm, but it certainly has risen from the destruction. And I see parallels to Namibia. Namibia may not have suffered from a hurricane, it has suffered from issues caused by weather, including a recent brutal and deadly drought. Race tensions are also present in both (I won't go too much into that, as I have a whole post comparing Namibia to New Orleans). And there are a lot of issues needing to be addressed in both, from poverty and homelessness to drug and alcohol abuse to high unemployment to struggling education systems. The issues facing New Orleans and Khorixas has given me and opportunity to share a bit of my home with Namibians and also gotten me thinking. However, on this day, I also want to take a moment to remember the death, the destruction, and the suffering that afflicted a city so dear to my heart and which would play a huge part in my life, probably more than I can really comprehend so far. And after taking a moment to remember all that, I smile, put on some New Orleans music, and take comfort in the knowledge that the effort of so many people not only can make a difference, but has made a difference. And, so long as there are people willing to donate their time and their energy (and yes, their money) to causes they feel worthy, as cynical as I may be sometimes, there will always remain at least some degree of faith in humanity and hope for the world.