222: Two Weddings and a Funeral

Dear Friends,
Below is a summary of the last five incredible days: It’s a long e-mail (spanning 3400 km/2500 miles of traveling) but we hope you will agree it’s worth reading.

TUESDAY, 23 December

It all began last Tuesday night, when Elsita arrived in Namibia with three loads of laundry that hadn’t seen the inside of a functional washing machine since she left for El Salvador, almost a year ago. Our second-generation spinner in Namibia didn’t offer much relief, but we tried our best. Her visit back home made for a wonderful Hannukah.

WEDNESDAY, 24 December

The next morning we packed our Four-Wheel-Drive and headed north, stopping to overnight in the small mining town of Tsumeb, a couple hours from the Angolan boarder. Here, unbelievably enough, dinner on the hotel veranda brought back many childhood memories for Bernd -- complete with a German-language menu, imported German foods, German-language TV, and a track of German Christmas carols wafting in the background. Only Namibia can still pull this off, we figure (especially at US$6 a meal) -- where the casual visitor can be forgiven for thinking that this is still is a German colony even though the history books tell us that Germany officially lost its colonial grip over 90 years ago.

THURSDAY, 25 December

For Christmas day, we planned a 24-hour detour within Etosha National Park, before moving even father north to a traditional Owambo wedding (our main reason for the trip). Etosha looked different than during all our previous visits: The early summer rains turned the fields bright green with millions of yellow flowers and many standing pools of shallow water. Although the scenery looked beautiful, we expected it to be much more difficult to see the animals who could now forage at the far corners of the park, away from the usual watering holes that the tourists visit.

Wow, were we ever wrong!

The first thing that struck us was the intensity of the bird-life, with a new species almost every time we turned our heads. Most exciting to us was the endangered Blue Crane (we saw three) that are endemic to only this part of the country.

Zebra, wildebeest, impala, springbok, and giraffe abounded to the point that we didn’t even stop the car for them any more, and then felt guilty about how quickly we had become blasé. Elsita also got to see her favorite jackals, and we counted seven different antelope species, from the miniature dik-dik that twitches its nose from left-to-right, to the near-giant kuku with its majestic corkscrew horns. To crown the day, we saw two lions, their bellies swollen from an earlier kill.

FRIDAY, 26 December

Only elephants were missing. Although I wore my elephant earrings for good-luck, I really didn’t think we would see any. The next day, we drove on a road in the park that we had never taken before that ends in the newly opened Northern gate. After scores of more zebra, wildebeest and giraffe, I suddenly spotted a huge moving rock far ahead to the right of the road: Could it be? Sure enough!

But we didn’t see just one or two elephants. By the time the morning was through Elsita counted more than fifty pachyderms in six groupings, including several very tiny babies and three rather agitated matriarchs who started to charge our car when they thought we had come too close for comfort. (Fortunately, they didn’t do it all at once.) All of a sudden our Four-Wheel-Drive seemed very small indeed, in comparison to these huge beasts. We took over a hundred photos, but almost lost our presence of mind in focusing the cameras on the largest of the protective moms who came so close to our windshield (see below) that all I could do was whisper hoarsely was “Roll up the windows!!!” while Bernd jerked the car into Reverse.

All’s well that ends well, especially when it comes to wild animal encounters. Thirty minutes later we crossed into the communal farmlands of the north. Via another pre-arrangement, we stopped at a local after-school center for a Christmas party with 350 orphans that we had sponsored, thanks to some unexpected earnings earlier in the year. The children entertained each other with drama and song, received multiple small gifts, and had a huge meal with goodies to take home – an occasion that neither they nor we would easily forget.

SATURDAY, 27 December

Traditional Owambo weddings usually take place on Saturdays, preferably in December when most relatives return home for the festive season. The wedding of Lydia Hasheela and Pandu Amutenya aimed to be letter-perfect: They had known each other since High School and had been planning this occasion for almost a year. As the oldest of our “Saving Remnant students,” Lydia has now graduated and works in the field of communications, while Pandu -- the son of a headman -- teaches high school. Given our special relationship with Lydia, Bernd and I got to take on the role of Auntie and Uncle – complete with specially designed African outfits -- while Elsita joined as the unofficial photographer.

Several days of celebration were planned. The day before we arrived, friends and relatives gathered for a night of singing. On the actual wedding day, the invitations announced a church service, followed by a reception at the home of Lydia’s father. The next day a second reception would take place at Pandu’s family–home about 100 kilometers (67 miles) away. A week ago, we were told, the traditional spear-throwing ritual already occurred, where men from the extended family gathered around the bride-to-be and threw spears at her feet – each one representing a cow that she would be given for her marriage. Lydia ended up with thirteen new cows but agreed to sacrifice four for the wedding, as the entire village would be showing up at the receptions and everyone expected to bring home a basket of fresh meat to enjoy.

Early on this day, we first drove to pick up Helvi Shilongo, one of our more recent Saving Remnant members, to join the celebrations. Helvi has been raised by her grandmother (now 86 years old) in a very rural homestead, 30 minutes’ drive across sandy tracks to the nearest road. She showed us how each of the traditional round-huts in the homestead has a different purpose, with old wooden stockades serving as walls and fencing. The grandmother greeted us warmly with some ground millet and spinach-sauce, showed us their recently plowed field (the work of Helvi, a cousin, and the family donkeys), and proudly tossed away her cane to pose for a photograph. Helvi provided the translation as the grandmother – who has never traveled more than 90 kilometers (60 miles) from her home -- promised to visit Windhoek ("God-willing") in order to witness Helvi’s anticipated graduation from the Polytechnic of Namibia in two years’ time.

With Helvi and Elsita now in the back-seat, we drove to the wedding itself. The church service was meant to start at 10 in the morning, and we arrived just minutes before – only to realize that the church was already crowded with people singing hymns. Helvi and Elsita rushed inside to find seats and then Helvi – who suddenly grasped what was going on – turned to Elsita and whispered, “Are we supposed to be at a funeral?” Elsita looked askance and whispered back, “No, I don’t think so!!” Realizing that it would be rude to leave, they decided to stay through to the end. Meanwhile Bernd and I learned that the wedding had been postponed some hours to accommodate this unanticipated event, but since there hadn’t been time to inform the out-of-towners we were told to wait outside under a shade-tree.

Hurry up and wait, my mother always said.

Soon a new crowd appeared, and a very pregnant bride emerged from a car. A second wedding – obviously one that could not wait! The organizers eventually decided that each party would occupy one side of the church – to the left and right of the central aisle – and the two couples would get married in the same ceremony. Two hours later, Lydia and Pandu extended the service with a visiting choir and a series of small speeches just for them (Bernd and me included) and then we proceeded -- largely on foot -- to the home of Lydia’s father. To protect them from the unrelenting summer sun, the newly wedded couple had parasol-bearers – but progress was slow as they stopped every few minutes to make sure that everyone in the neighborhood knew they were invited to join the wedding feast.

Just outside the father’s house, the couple had to stand patiently for almost a full hour as family members and village elders sang and danced, alerting Lydia that this would be the last time she would enter the house as her father’s daughter, rather than as her husband’s wife.

More ceremonies continued as a long row of female gift-bearers offered traditional straw- baskets and small denominations of money. Then the couple – who had not eaten since morning – had to sample the father’s traditional (home-made) beer. Unfortunately, by this time it was approaching six o’clock in the evening and we still intended to drive Helvi back home before it got dark. Three other Saving Remnant students recognized our dilemma and gave us each a plate of salads and grilled beef that they had prepared for the evening feast. After the food, we quietly voiced our good-byes. Everyone else’s serious eating and drinking would only begin after sunset, we were told, and the next day pretty much the same was planned with Pandu’s family, except there wouldn’t be a second church-service. After witnessing the day’s events, Helvi quipped that she would rather elope or not marry at all.

SUNDAY, 28 September

Again we rose early, with one last side-trip planned before returning to Windhoek. As some of you know, in 2009 we plan to sponsor an additional student at the University of Namibia – a young woman living at the Osire Refugee Camp amidst 6500 other refugees from Angola and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Today we got to meet the student along with her mother, grandmother, pastor, and volunteer-coordinator of the Osire Boys’ and Girls’ clubs, who had nominated her as the recent high-school graduate “most likely to succeed.”

Angolan-born Sofiana Silva, age 18, has lived in the Osire Refugee Camp since she was two years old. Her family of 12 occupies three small windowless rooms made of mud-bricks with dirt floors and a bare-tin roof, surrounded by a vegetable garden that Sofiana tries to maintain as much as possible. Cooking is done outside and there is one pit toilet two houses down, which several families share. As part of our tour, I asked to see where Sofiana sleeps: She is designated a corner of one bare room (without a light or candle) where there is a narrow cot that she shares with her sister (they sleep one head at each end of the bed, with a shared blanket).

It's hard to believe that such a completely devastating place could produce such an outgoing and accomplished young woman! Two years ago, Sofiana won a U.N. High Commission for Refugees’ scholarship to finish her high school education through grades 11 and 12. (In the refugee camp, schooling stops at Grade 10.) Unfortunately, many fellow-students shunned her as a refugee and accused her of taking up a space in the school that could otherwise go to a Namibian. Eventually, however, she found two friends. What kept her going? Sofiana clearly clings to her faith as a source of strength, but she also explained that every opportunity she receives comes with the responsibility to do her best and then help others -- her family and beyond – as much as she can.

Sofiana's academic interests lie with computer technology, which she hopes to combine with Media Studies. She told us how, in September, her best friend had persuaded her to use her last dollars for an application to the University of Namibia, even though she thought she had no hope of being able to attend. By contrast, now everyone in the family was singing praises - they see this as truly heaven-sent.

So do we. It will be a great privilege to help a young woman like Sofiana. With thanks for your support – emotional and otherwise -- we wish you the best for 2009.

221: Sand, Sun & Serious Work

After almost 12 years in Namibia, I still can’t get used to the fact that it’s cold in June and July and boiling hot when the festive season rolls around in December. Fortunately, this year we have been blessed by some early summer rains, so the dry spell that began last April has finally broken with new grass and scattered flowers growing in the fields.


At least the farmers are happy. By contrast, the Namibian news is filled with horror stories about the failed neighboring-state of Zimbabwe (some of our Zimbabwean friends have relatives who were beaten up by the Mugabe forces), and about the teetering Namibian economy that -- even under the best of circumstances – wobbles dangerously on the triple legs of tourism, mining, and a diminishing fishing industry. But over the last six months, to no-one’s surprise, tourist bookings are down; uranium prices have fallen; and the diamond companies are saying, quite bluntly, that no one is buying. Already one third of Namibians are living on less than US$1 a day.


GOOD NEWS WE’RE GLAD TO SHARE:

Among the good news we can share is that all twelve of our local tertiary students that we help sponsor did well this year. By way of example, Lucas (who lives with us) scored amongst the best in his class for Mechanical Engineering, and we have two seniors who are about to graduate with good jobs awaiting them in geology and accounting.


Ten days ago Bernd finished teaching and I returned from 2 weeks in Ethiopia, so last weekend we took all the students to the coast for a massive camp-out and Braii (traditional Namibian barbecue). On Saturday morning, we booked a sand-boarding adventure that is a lot like tobogganing except that it takes place on huge sand dunes.





















True to its eco-tourism identity, there is only a cheap piece of bendable pressboard between yourself and the hot sand, onto which you literally have to hold on for dear life. Bernd and I joined the adventure and clocked 68 and 60 kilometers per hour respectively going down the step slopes (45 and 40 mph). The students overcame a lot of their own fears in doing this, which felt very empowering -- and all of us had a blast. (Sorry that our photos could only be “before” and “afterwards.” In between there was too much blowing sand that could have ruined the camera.)











Speaking of students, this past year Bernd and I also took on a double-orphan who is studying economics, and we’re hoping to add at least one more for the coming year. To make that possible, we’re willing to match all donations that come in from friends, dollar-for-dollar, up to US$2000 (meaning that we would provide an additional US$2000, for a total of US$4000). We know this is a tough time for everyone, but if you are stumped for a holiday gift for someone, why not consider a contribution in that person’s name, instead? Any amount will be gratefully accepted.*

Our own holiday plans this year are simple. Bernd and I will return to the Coast for some writing, reading, craft-making and long walks on the beach: Bernd indulged me with a third dog so that will definitely keep us running! Elsita arrives on December 23rd after her year in El Salvador; thereafter we head north for a traditional wedding (I promise to write about that in my next Namibia Diary) and finally we return to the coast for New Year’s. Come January Elsita will have to decide whether she wants to try to find work in the USA (where most of her friends live) or stay here a little longer (where, despite the economic woes, her job prospects are probably better). Meanwhile, Sergio will spend his holidays with the U.S. Marines in Okinawa, Japan – he says he is bored there but we are thrilled that he is safe.


AN ETHIOPIAN REVOLUTION, ONE NEIGHBORHOOD AT A TIME:

My own international travels are over for 2008, although the Family Health International (FHI) office in Ethiopia will definitely require me to return soon after the New Year. The work is fascinating: FHI has helped transform traditional Ethiopian burial societies (called “Iddrs”) into mutual-aid organizations that focus on living people rather than only on the dead. It’s one of those silver-linings to the AIDS pandemic that always makes me stop and think about what else we might be missing, underneath the mounds of tragedy that generally accompanies this disease.

By way of background, traditional Iddrs span the entire county as local voluntary associations for every 3,000 - 5,000 people. Based on a Government mandate, Iddrs have historically collected a small payment every month from all households in their catchment area, in order to provide financial and logistical support for burial expenses when someone dies. But with the start of the AIDS pandemic, some local Iddr leaders realized that their priorities were all wrong: So many people were dying, often for lack of medicine and healthy food. So they said, “Why not take a portion of the money allocated to each person for funeral costs and allocate it for medicine and food while the person is still alive?” If the person still dies, they argued, this amount can be deducted from the death-benefit; but if the person lives, then the amount provided can be paid back once the person starts earning money again.

Brilliant, isn’t it? From this starting point, several local Iddrs underwent a complete sea change: they asked to have local volunteers trained in home based care, and then in orphan-care (which is where I come in), and finally in resource-development, service-co-ordination, and even in monitoring-and-evaluation. One challenge will be scaling this model out to cover more and more neighborhoods, but the potential is obvious. It also amazes me that all Iddrs members are volunteers; moreover they span all religious groups (Christian and Muslim) with the mandate that each family’s own religious customs must be respected.

The world needs more of this, that’s for sure. With Obamania flying high around the world, we know that the possibilities for positive change are endless. Meanwhile we wish you and yours all the best for a safe and happy holiday season. We appreciate your friendship, your support, and your correspondence.


*Money can be sent directly to the Saving Remnant Program at Catholic AIDS Action (tax deductible) at: Maryknoll Fathers and Brothers; Controller's Office; PO BOX 302; Maryknoll, NY 10545-0302… Please state that this donation is for the MISSION ACCOUNT of Fr. Richard W. Bauer, Namibia and for the SAVING REMNANT program. If you need a receipt, they can provide that for you, and if you don't want to be put on the Maryknoll mailing list, please also state that in your letter (otherwise you’ll get a lot of Catholic-related mail). The alternative is to make a bank deposit into our account in the USA or in Namibia or send a check to our power-of-attorney – let us know what you prefer and we’ll send you details.