Welcome to Omatjete

I'm sure you did not expect to hear from me so soon, but I had offer from my neighbor to go into town and since I don't know when another chance will come, I took it. My first few days in Omajete have been the most difficult so far. It is a worn and very poor town and little greenery. Mostly dirt-- if I were being kind I would call it sand. Cows and goats are everywhere-- it's fun to watch them cross the "roads." I've already heard stories about them eating anything from poridge to people's laundry hanging out to dry. There is a small town store that has many shelves that are empty and many that are full. But they have warm homemade bread and water. The hair salon is made from corrugated metal and everyone who has a house works for the government in some way. That includes me.

My house, to be frank, is like a cement box. When I arrived there was nothing inside-- not even a bed. I tried not to panic as the principal told me that my bed was at a teacher's house not yet back from vacation and that my stove, wardrobe and fridge had not yet arrived from the government. She did give me curtains to put over my windows. That night was spent on a small (loaned) pad on the floor-- luckily bugs were at a minimum and I had my sleeping bag. I have never been so excited in my life to get a bed-- which arrived yesterday evening. Still waiting on everything else.

(My house with Ms. Ikorua)

I live next door-- and by next door I mean I share a wall with-- a family. The mother is a teacher at the school, the daughter is thirteen and the son is twenty-five. They have been very kind to me, offering food and tea and a chair for my room. The daughter has been my closest ally, taking me to the store, showing me around town as people stare and call names (none of which I can understand), and I also got to look at the town dam which is currently dry. I feel lucky to have good neighbors because I will share a bathroom with them for the rest of the year. Bucket bathing is what I've done so far because while we technically have running water, it rarely runs.

The language is Otjiherero-- the language of the Herero tribe, and in my area that is the tribe most people are descended from. A lot of people know English, but they hardly ever use it. Already I have relied on my neighbors as translators. And they are always willing to help. We've talked a good bit over the last few days, asking each other questions about where we come from. And the mother, Veronica Ikorua is how I got into town today. She does not have a car, but we rode with the principal's family. Here I am using dial-up, excited to fill you in on what's going on.

I hope I don't sound too negative. I think the realities of my life here are beginning to be clear, and it will simply be an adjustment. School starts on Wednesday and there the real challenge lies-- trying to communicate and teach as best as I can.

I will sign off for now. It's wonderful to be able to communicate with home. I will write soon!