Created on 7/24/2015
Once again, time has seemed to disappear since my last blog
post. The worst of the Namibian winter is over and I’m already beginning to
fear the heat of the summer months to come. Term 2 is flying by at school and
exams begin this week. July 23rd marks one year since I arrived in
Namibia and it has naturally brought thoughts of self-reflection to mind. I
recently turned 27 years young, a milestone that reminds me of family, friends,
and many wonderful memories. I am a good month into training for the Swakopmund
marathon in October and recently ran my first half-marathon. Also, the time has
come to start saying goodbye to Group 38 Volunteers as their 27 months of
service in Namibia is coming to an end.
Even though life in Namibia is busy, I often think of home.
Reading emails and seeing pictures bring me back and give me great joy. I want
to thank everyone for the emails and the birthday wishes. I am currently
helping my school get internet installed and hopefully that happens soon. When
it does, I aim to improve my response time and post to my blog more often!
Until then, forgive me.
Marathon training in the village has been an adventure that
I want to share, doggone it. There have been ups and downs but every run is
different and unique in many ways. I run every Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday
as the sun is setting. And every Saturday morning I go for a long run. The
program I am following works great with my schedule and I never thought I would
enjoy running as much as I do. However, I think much of my enjoyment comes from
the adventurous feeling I get every time I set out on a run in the village.
I began training the first week of June and my biggest
challenge of the first few weeks was dealing with my dogs. Molly and Sissy soon
caught onto my routine and began following me every time I left the homestead
to go for a run. At first, I tried to discourage their company by scolding them
but was unsuccessful. I figured they may not understand my scolding in English
so I even tried yelling at them in Oshiwambo and throwing rocks as meme does;
“Efenge! Inda!” (Leave me alone! Go!) I shouted with no avail. Next, I tried to
accept the two of them as running companions as everyone I met on my runs
enjoyed the rare sight of a white man running as two dogs followed. I soon
decided that letting them follow me was not a long-term solution as traffic on
the gravel road often forces me to run into the ditch and that was the one
place Molly and Sissy did not want to follow. I had to cut them off and heard
them into the ditch constantly and that got old quick.
Sissy with her five
puppies
Tequila with Boney
Bobby and Molly
My next plan was to keep both of them in the homestead when
I went for a run. Dogs are not usually allowed in the homestead but they don’t
have collars or ropes for me to tie them up with so I didn’t have any other
options. The first day that I tried this, I failed. Most of the time, Molly and
Sissy will do anything to get into the homestead in hopes of finding food. I
was able to trick them and get them in but they freaked out as soon as they
realized I was going for a run. Hileni and Tequila were in charge of keeping
them inside because meme was gone but that’s a big responsibility for a 5 and a
6 year old that speak about as much English as I do Oshiwambo. I was about a
mile away from home when Molly and Sissy caught up to me. I was frustrated to
see them catch me but there was not much I could do at that point. To make
things worse, two more dogs and about seven children decided to join in on my
run. I wish I could have got a picture of myself being trailed by 7 barefoot
children and 4 dogs all the way home. As much fun as that run was, I realized
that it was not safe. When a vehicle passes, children understand the situation
and follow me into the ditch but dogs do not.
The following day I was determined to keep Molly and Sissy
locked up at home while I ran. Meme was home and I explained to her that I was
training and that I did not want the dogs to follow. She was helpful and even
tried to entice the dogs into the homestead with food. We got them inside and I
closed both gates before setting out on my run. With great frustration, I
turned to see Molly and Sissy overtake me no more than a mile or so into my
run. I was told later that Sissy went crazy when I left and wouldn’t stop
clawing at the gate and jumping up and down. Eventually, Hileni and Tequila let
them both out before they lost my scent. So once again, I had my running
companions at my side.
This is where the story turns from innocent fun into the
exact thing I feared would happen. We were on the home stretch of the run, only
about five minutes away from the homestead. A white pick-up stirred a cloud of
dust in the distance. I took note and began to veer off the road into the ditch
as the vehicle approached from straight ahead. Molly and Sissy were lagging
behind at this point and I called their names with hope they would follow me
into the ditch. My annoyance with the dogs had been growing with every vehicle
that passed and I suppose my diligence to protect them had been compromised. As
the dust consumed my immediate surroundings, I heard a thump. I turned as the
cloud settled to see Sissy lying in the middle of the gravel road. Molly soon
came trotting from the other side of the road and met me where Sissy rested.
While still alive, Sissy struggled as she coughed up blood and gasped for air.
I knew her death was imminent as my mind began to race about all of the ways
that I could have prevented it to anything that I could do to ease her
suffering in the moment. I helplessly watched as Sissy slowly passed.
After arriving home, I informed meme and to my surprise she
seemed to expect such news and showed no sympathy for the dog. I should have
known, as it is no mystery as to how people in the village feel about dogs.
Generally, dogs are valued as a protector of the homestead and not much else. I
did carry Sissy into the ditch before returning home and told meme where she
was. I began to think about stories that I had heard from other volunteers and
decided that I didn’t wish to be involved or even know what would be done with
her. A few of the neighbor children went to get Sissy and I assume that they
brought her home to eat her. As strange as it sounds, that is just how life is
here. I have had discussions with some of my classes about dogs and they think
Americans are strange because I told them that we do not eat dogs. In fact,
just the other day we had an entrepreneurship day at school and one of the
learners cooked a dog, brought it to school, and sold dog meat. It is true but
I am not telling you all of this to gross you out or make you angry with people
that do eat dogs. I am telling you to give you some perspective on the way of
life in the village.
As an American, I was raised to value dogs as companions and
often times that meant treating them as a member of the family. Personally, I had
a dog named Maggie that was a great friend to me and her death was both
unexpected and tragic. I know many people can relate and have felt a strong
connection to a pet at one point in their life. I am grateful that I was raised
in a place that values such relationships with animals as I feel it is the most
righteous way to live. However, I understand why dogs in the village are no
more valued than a cow, goat, or pig. They are viewed simply for what they can
be used for. When alive, the dog will protect the homestead; when dead, the dog
will feed a family. I do not feel it is wrong, just different. I would have
never even thought about this cultural difference if it weren’t for my time in
the village.
Since I’m on the subject of dogs and training, I have a few
more quick stories and pictures that you may enjoy. Overall, the dogs on my
homestead have had a tough month or so. Boney Bobby has disappeared since my
last blog post and is assumed to be dead. Molly was pregnant for a time but had
a miscarriage. Sissy had five puppies before she died; Meme sold one, three
went missing, and Hank was the last surviving pup. Meme said people stole the
pups that went missing but I think they were either killed by other dogs or
died somehow. You can see Hank in the video below.
Hileni and Tequila
doing their best to get Molly in the homestead
A week or so after Sissy died, I was spending a Sunday doing
laundry. All of a sudden I heard a puppy crying and some chickens going crazy
somewhere inside the homestead. I went to investigate and found a puppy being
attacked by an angry mother hen. The puppy was not one of Sissy’s. It was a pup
that belongs to the wild family of dogs that live behind the homestead in a
patch of bushes and tall grass. These dogs keep their distance, as Molly
doesn’t enjoy their company. The pup was one of a lot that had been born not
long before Sissy had her pups. After this incident, I named the puppy Fred. I
had never seen Fred in the homestead before and I assume he slipped in to find
some food on a quiet Sunday afternoon. I scared the mother hen away to find
Fred curled up in a corner. He was shaking and would not move. Fred is not a
tame dog and would not move from the corner. I picked him up to put him outside
of the homestead. As I was putting him down he turned and bit me before running
off. It was not a bad bite but it did draw blood. At that time, I didn’t think
much about the bite. However, the next day when I returned home from school I
found Hank lying dead in the homestead. There was no sign as to how Hank died
and I thought rabies might be a possibility after we learned about it during
pre-service training. The next morning I found a dead chicken in the homestead
and I decided to call the Peace Corps Doctor later that day. So because I was
bitten and potentially exposed, I had to get two rabies vaccinations later that
week. Since the incident, I have seen Fred roaming around the homestead so I
know that he never had rabies. I am still not sure how Hank and the chicken
died but it was an eerie series of events.
Training has been going well since and I have not had any
problems with Molly as of late. When I run, I never know who will join me and
usually have some form of company on every run. Last weekend, Eric and I ran to
Andrew’s village to visit him for the day. Below are some more pictures, enjoy!
Andrew, Alex, Eric,
Myself, and Brendan
Alex amongst the competition
getting ready for the sprint start
Kate, Sarah, Eric, Linnea,
and Myself at Oshakati Stadium after the race
Eric and I enjoying a
cold one with Andrew after running to his village
Eric getting a selfie
in on the walk to Andrew’s homestead
A little dude racing
me with his wire car
Me and my running team
for the day
