What I Wear, or Packing List Part II

The ethos of Peace Corps Namibia is professionalism, and the organization naturally expects and requests that its volunteers dress professionally.  This equates to, more or less, what I've worn to the office since about 1991:  slacks or skirts and word-and-picture-free shirts, or a nice-ish dress.  "Business casual," we call it.

However, Namibia, outside of Windhoek, is largely bereft of dry cleaners, and even if I could find one I'm pretty sure I couldn't afford it.  Plus it can get a skosh warm here and air conditioning ('air con,' as we call it locally, when we even know what it is) is not the norm.  So the woolens, silks and wovens of my old life have ceded to rayons and knits here in Namibia.

Neutrals, all with pockets.  I love pockets.

For work I wear mostly slacks, since my dodgy ankle likes to live in hiking boots, and they look odd with skirts and dresses.  So it's black or tan trousers for me, and I usually pair them with a bright-colored, short-sleeved, cotton knit blouse.




Brights!  Your training class will make up
PCN polos, and you'll have the chance
to buy them in the colors you want.

I did bring a few bright printed scarves, which dress and change things up a bit when I'm feeling formal or bored.  Then there's a black, a grey  and a tan cardigan for warmth.  I'd wear a jacket in the USA, but have little interest in hand-washing jackets and hoping they dry in shape.  They won't dry in shape.  They will get lumpy.  You can buy an iron with your settling-in allowance, and the recommendation is that you do, actually, as apparently most Namibians are compulsive ironers and look askance at wrinkled clothing, but my tactic is to own nothing that won't drip-dry wrinkle-free.

I brought one suit and have used it numerous times.  It's got a lot of rayon amongst the wool and it's holding up pretty well to its current laundering routine.

All with pockets.

I have a couple skirts and dresses.  No one has ever said anything to suggest my trousers are any kind of faux pas, but oh my goodness do I collect the compliments when I wear a dress.
We are having a little early-March heat wave as I type this, and it's hard to imagine I shall ever wear my fleece again.  However, I can remember just seven months back tucking gladly into it.  There were even a few days in August, maybe, when I wore it in the middle of the day, outdoors and indoors.  And that, of course, reminds me that there were a few evenings in July and August when I happily pulled my heavy winter parka on over my fleece, topping two pair of workout tights.  It got outright cold at home at night.
If you're a community health volunteer, you almost certainly will serve in the northern part of the country, and probably not want a parka.  If you're CED or Education, you may wind up in the far south (I'm in the middle, kind of), and then you'll want a hat and gloves, too.  (I've worn gloves a few times, but not so far a hat, except the lovely sun hat I got here for about $200, one-tenth of my monthly allowance.)  If you have someone lovely in your US life you don't mind exploiting, you could pack a little box with extra cold-weather clothes and have him or her mail it to you the second you get your site assignment if needed.  Bring a fleece, though; everyone used them in Okahandja during pre-service training.


I wear hiking boots a lot, as I love them so.  I also have sandals, and two pair of dress-up shoes for when ministers or governors visit.  Then there's my house sneakers -- I bought them here when my cranky joints started aching from the concrete floors, which make an inflexible and unforgiving surface for dancing around the living room.  I don't want to wear outdoor shoes indoors given how extremely grubby everything is -- though maybe, given that, it doesn't really matter -- so off I went to Tekkie Town in Swakop.  ('Tekkie' is Namlish for 'sneaker.')  The wondrous Bernadette there found me a pair of New Balance court shoes that pretty much fit and were on clearance! for $300.  That's about US$25.  How great is that?  I love Bernadette, though I haven't seen her since.  Perhaps I shall choreograph a living-room dance in her honor.