Okuhepa: Anniversary

Looking back to June 2016:

Peace Corps service is designed to begin with one day of classroom preparation in the US, continue with 2-3 months of in-country training, commence fully with a transfer to a site where the volunteer will live and work for two years, and end when those two years are up. Some people choose to leave early, some people must leave early for medical or family reasons, and a few choose to 'extend' their service for a year -- in rare cases, more than one might be allowed. For most volunteers, though, one year at site marks the middle of full service, and thus my volunteer group had a 'mid-service conference' in June 2016.

The sun rises on a second, and maybe last, year of service.

We all went back to the conference center in the mountains outside Windhoek, the capital, where we had had our three-month 'reconnect' conference. Greiters is gorgeous, though the pool was entirely non-functional this time. Pfui. We had a Sunday afternoon of reconnecting, and then two days of sitting around conference tables sharing successes and frustrations and being reminded that monitoring and evaluation of those successes and failures is really important so let's get it right, people. Also, huge starchy/meaty meals and evening bitch-and-giggle fests.

Tea break with tasty little sweet muffins. Tea break is at 10am,
because we are upside down here in the southern hemisphere.

On night two they loaded us all into combis and drove us to the ambassador's house. We met the ambassador, Thomas Daughton, in our first week or so as trainees. He and his wife, Mindy Burrell, are very interested in the work PCVs do in Namibia, and they graciously invited us over to learn more about it. It was just a reception, not a dinner, and I don't know whether they were astounded by the quantity of artichoke dip (so good!), black bean stuff, brownies and finger meats we got through, but the crowd around that dip impressed the heck out of me. They gathered us all up at some point and asked us to share success stories Mr. Ambassador ("He'll introduce himself as Tom, but we call him Mr. Ambassador.") could use at the embassy's upcoming Fourth of July celebrations. Then they turned us loose on the house, decorated with contemporary American art, as are all embassies, but here of the southwest, as Mr. Daughton is a native Arizonan. I got to chat at some length with Ms. Burrell, and would have loved to get to know her better. She specialized in refugee issues, and worked in several conflict zones before meeting her future husband -- I think in Beirut. My boss's boss snuck a Sierra Nevada out at the request of his boss, our country director. You don't get a lot of Sierra Nevada in Namibia, at least not outside the U.S. embassy and its staff housing. Peace Corps is not part of the State Department.

Mr. and Mrs. Ambassador listen to PCV stories.

Boss's boss makes a funny face when he sees a camera. Very professional.

Night three we had a chance to sit down with our director of programs and trainings to talk about why we serve. He is Patrick, of the shaved head in the photo above, and he served in PC in Tanzania about ten years ago. His commitment to service, and to Africa, is almost visible in the set of his shoulders or something. He's worked for PC for a few years, and he's realistic about the pros and cons. Since many volunteers crack up a bit around the one-year mark (They have a chart that shows the danger points; it's called the cycle of vulnerability and adjustment.), he wanted to give us an opportunity to remind ourselves and each other why we're here, and why this work has value. He does it in an entirely unjudgmental, no-preaching, open-minded and supportive way, and I think he's great. If you ever have a chance to hire him, do it. Peace Corps staffers have to leave after five years, so he may be up for grabs soon.

"Different people have different experiences," they tell us. "This is a common pattern, but yours may be different."
I have mostly been a lot less mood-swingy than I would be in the USA to date.

The next morning they shoved us back in the combis and drove us to an hotel in downtown Windhoek. We had three days of medical appointments scheduled! Everyone got a dentist appointment and a brief conversation with the PC medical officers to make sure we had no major complaints. A few people with medical issues had pre-booked appointments with specialists, and a few got specialist appointments while we were there; others would have to stay extra time or come back later for specialists. There aren't a lot of medical specialists outside Windhoek, Swakopmund, and the Oshakati-Ondangwa-Ongwadiva area. I got a chipped filling repaired and the best tooth cleaning ever.

Windhoek in the distance, last morning at Greiter's.

Sunrise of Namibia

In our down time, we hung around the PCV lounge and charged around shops and restaurants and movie theaters -- always in taxis after dark, since Windhoek is a high-crime town, although two of our vols were in a pretty bad taxi crash the night before the conference started. On Friday and Saturday we had orgies of hugs and good wishes, and everyone split off to their various hike points and headed out for one more year, feeling tired and revived and inspired and annoyed and really, really clean around the teeth and gums.