1
The
day after training was concluded the principals of the Kavango volunteers came
down to Okahanjda to pick us up and take us to our permanent sites. We were
supposed to leave at 8 in the morning but since the Ministry of Education car
took so long to leave Windhoek (for reasons unbeknownst to us) we ended up
leaving at 11:30. Even so our driver and principles didn’t seem overly
concerned with the length of the travel (We had around 7 hours ahead of us). So
we had several luxuriously long stops for food and bathroom breaks (We happened
to run into Namibia’s first and only Paralympics gold medal winner at a supermarket). We arrived at Rundu at 7:00 p.m. From there our principles split up
with their volunteers. Two volunteers had to stay in Rundu because their site
was not prepared yet. I left with my principle in his car to my village of
Shamangorwa. In Shamangorwa there is no market or place to buy food. Naturally
I asked my principle if we could stop at a grocery store in Rundu so I could
buy my two week supply of food. “Sorry Andre they are closed” he said. So we
stopped at a gas station and I brought bread, pasta, and some powdered spice. That night I made myself a dinner of Doritos chip sandwich (literally crushed pieces of Doritos in between two slices of bread). I figured this would have to hold me till the
next weekend. I arrived at my mud hut and went straight to bed.
The next morning I met a couple teachers and
they mentioned that they were going to make their way to Rundu. I hopped into
my counterpart’s car as he drove us from our dirt road onto the tar road.
Usually when you are hitchhiking in Namibia you expect to wait close to an hour
by the road but this time as soon as my counterpart and myself stepped out of
the first truck another truck stopped right away and picked us up. I haven’t
been that lucky since. We climbed onto the back of the pickup truck and
commenced the hour and a half drive to Rundu. We got there without any problem
and I bought my groceries, met up with the volunteer I was replacing, and
checked out the Peace Corps office. I decided that I would spend the night in
Rundu with Tim and Lindsey who were staying at the Bavaria Lodge. Lodges are
the equivalent of hotels here, you get your room, free breakfast, and a pool.
Around mid
afternoon we decided to go to the pool with another volunteer, Ryan, who had
been living in Kavango for about a year. We each got a beer at the bar and sat
down by the pool. We all headed back to the bar for a second round and a
bald man in his early 30’s struck up a conversation with us asking us what we
were doing in Namibia and Rundu. We each explained our stories and he explained
his (he was a business man who was stopping in Rundu for a night before hopping
on a plane to Windhoek). The man was charismatic and engaging so our
conversation with him lasted for quite a while. We figured, cool we had made
ourselves a new Namibian friend. His English was very good and he explained
that he worked in England for a bit and was well traveled. He then proceeded to
buy us all beers. At this point I started getting suspicious. I wasn’t used to
people buying me beer and this guy was buying for our group of four. We kept
talking and he bought us another round as he ordered a wine for himself. Later
on Ryan asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner at another lodge which
served very good pizza. He took a taxi there while we walked. We arrived at the
restaurant and we didn’t see him there so we figured he wasn’t actually coming.
We then ordered two large expensive (at least on our volunteer salary) pizzas
for our group. Five minutes later he finds us and sits with us and orders
another large pizza. Again the alarms go off in my head and I start thinking
that this guy is going to run away when it is time to pay for the meal. But I
figure I’m just being overly suspicious since I am new to the country. So we relax
and enjoy our perfectly seasoned Mexican, Hawaiian, and Meaty pizzas. Namibia
does not have a lot of western food and the only American food chain we
recognize is KFC. No McDonald’s, no Starbucks. Usually the only western meal
you ate was what you cooked for yourself. Also western style food was more
expensive so our pizza dinner was a rare occasion. My mouth is watering as I
remember those three pizzas.
Conversation was flowing nicely and once again
the man was proving to be very friendly. Only thing Tim and I noticed was that
he was taking a larger portion of the Mexican pizza (the best one) then the
rest of us. Being half starved volunteers (joke) we took a bit of an offense to that but didn't say anything. When time to order the check came I watched him but he didn’t make
any move to leave. I will admit I half expected him to dine and dash on us. Instead he got the check and offered to pay for the entire
meal. All of our mouths dropped. Ryan had just finished explaining how he only
visited this restaurant once every 3 months since it was so expensive
especially with our Peace Corps salaries. At that point I realized how awesome
and gracious the guy was. He joined us on the half an hour walk back to the
lodge and when we got there he bought Tim and I a bottle of wine. Again our
mouths dropped and we tried to poor him some but he wouldn’t have it. He said
he had already had enough alcohol for the night (again very surprising coming
from a Namibian as moderation when it comes to drinking is very uncommon) so
Tim and I drank this entire bottle of nice South African wine by ourselves. We
saw him again in the morning as we were having breakfast and he wished us look
and thanked us for our service in Namibia. We then exchanged emails and told
him that it would be a pleasure to meet him again.
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