Theft is NOT Culturally Relative

Though extremely well-written and engaging, the article that is the subject of this post (http://matadorabroad.com/my-day-of-african-justice/) had a few elements that moved me to comment, and probably rattle the innocent intentions of the author. But, as I said in the final comment (that the article’s author or some other moderator decided to remove), I engage in such “debate” regarding what I deem as cultural misrepresentation all the time. I do it with friends, family, and colleagues, in whatever forum, from whatever country, whenever I feel so moved. It’s not personal, nor about the length of the author’s story. In the case of this article, I read the piece, had a reaction, hit the reply button, and posted my opinion.

The article, “My Day of African Justice,” is about two volunteers supposedly from the Namibian town of Khorixas (where I served last year) who had their items stolen continuously over the course of a year, eventually discovered who took them, personally retrieved the items from the home of the thief, were forced to leave the recovered items with the police as “evidence,” and were then forced to appear in court, where and when the thief was found not guilty and they were told that their items were missing and would not be returned.

You can read the article yourself. It’s a fun read and paints vivid pictures. I’ll bias it a little, though. Within the article, I most directly took issue with the phrases, “African style of justice” and “Namibian sense of fairness.” I also felt that something was missing from the story. Exactly who allowed this to happen?

I regularly interact with citizens of various African countries who have very distinctive politics and legal systems, so I don’t really know if I buy the existence of an “African style of justice.” What goes on in Namibia, in Zimbabwe, and in Nigeria, where most of my local friends call home, can hardly be considered the same. Secondly, I regularly interact with Namibians of various ethnic and tribal backgrounds. The commentaries made about the others’ value systems are sometimes a bit biting. Just today, I endured comments by a “Coloured” suggesting that barbaric natures of discipline are culturally appropriate by “Oshivambos” and “Namas.” Just from today's comments alone, I’m pretty sure that Namibians across the ethnic and class spectrum have different notions of fairness.

Within the back-and-forth banter I had with the author, I was taken aback when she asked me, “Is there really a need to defend Khorixas, Namibia, or even all of Africa?” against her story. Here lies a bigger issue that I’ve thought about often.

From the first days of my orientation as a volunteer here, I have found myself defending Namibia, it’s teachers and educational system, and it’s road to progress, from what I deem to be gross mis-generalizations. My underlying mission is to have people think about allegations they make and reflect on the cultural context, to be sure that they are truly accurate. Once evidence is available, I am accepting. It’s just curious that I am so defensive. I think it is because I consider myself a member of many communities that have been culturally misrepresented in the past. That, and because of my studies and leanings toward holistic analysis, anthropology, and empathy.

In any event, I asked the author about more details (location and timeline) in her case, because it reeked of corruption, but she didn’t share them. My closest friend in Namibia is a magistrate and it would be interesting to see if she knew what actually happened and why. I guess I am not as accepting of such blatant injustice as the author (although I do not know the whole story and all the actions they took). I think I want to know a somewhat different Namibia, one that has civilians stealing (as they did my housemate's clothes from our outside line), but one that does not have members of the legal and judicial system obnoxiously laughing in the face of victims.

Her reported case leads me to wonder how useful it would be to have regular “crime against volunteers” reports sent by volunteer program heads to a partner police division in their respective countries. This way when things that are so blatantly wrong happen, there is at least one place for an attempt at recourse.

Theft is not culturally relative. You simply do not break into someone’s home, take what is not yours, identify yourself, and then get away without much constructive ado. This is especially important when volunteers, individuals requested by the host country’s government to meet specific areas of need, are the victims. Perhaps I am a bit too naïve and I have too much faith in partnerships and contracts, but until it is proven otherwise, my optimism will stand.

You can read the article (http://matadorabroad.com/my-day-of-african-justice/). Enjoy. The website is also very informative.

My Huis is Naby die Kantoor!

“Are there lights in Keetmanshoop?” my mother probed.

I replied, “Well, there are street lights and I live next to the hospital and a mining training college that has flood lights and…”

“Tam,” she then politely interrupted, “can you see all the stars throughout the sky like you could in Khorixas?”

“Yes,” I unhesitatingly answered.

“Then," she directed, "you don’t have lights in Keetmanshoop.”

“Oh,” I humbly conceded.

Though a more established town, Keetmanshoop and Khorixas have many similarities. I am still in a fairly isolated environment, without many unnatural obstructions like artificial lights, as my mother so keenly points out, and with many soil-eroded dirt roads. Keetmanshoop, with a larger population, has more available resources. There are actual bank branches (not one meager satellite office/room), two large grocery stores (and many little butcheries and tuck shops), and extended operating hours for services (everything does not close at 17h00). It still cannot be classified as a “city,” though, and there are many conveniences that I must still forego. In other words, no KFC! (big sigh, I’m serious, big sigh)

Four neighborhoods, in addition to the “central business district-CBD” (their terminology, not mine), comprise the town of Keetmanshoop. I live in Kronlein, located southwest of the CBD. Kronlein was the area reserved for Coloureds (not classified as black, not classified as white) during apartheid. To the north of Kronlein is Tseiblaagte, the area where the Nama people were located during apartheid (the Nama people are very light-skinned Africans whose ancestors are from one of the earliest tribes on record in Namibia). Close to the CBD is the newer residential area of Noordhoek. And east of the CBD is Westdene, a well-developed residential area that accommodated whites during the apartheid-era. With the exception of Tseiblaagte, most areas and schools are now integrated. Almost all of my colleagues are from this area and attended school during the segregation period. The school pictured with me and the nun, for example, used to be called the Roman Catholic Coloured School (now Don Bosco Primary School), when the manager of the Teachers’ Resource Centre was a student there. There is a private school, Keetmanshoop Private School, that opened in 1994, after the end of apartheid, which I believe is 100% white.

Afrikaans is the predominant language spoken in this area; although, Nama (the same as the Damara language of Khoekhoegowab, with the four distinctive clicks, spoken in Khorixas) is also spoken. I have spent a few weekends with colleagues who have been helping me practice both. I find it funny when I am being corrected, but I just keep repeating the same error because of the fact that certain sounds/pronunciations simply do not exist in the English language. I’ll get it; it just takes time, practice, and patience.

My home is quaint, with many new country-style wood furnishings (I'll post pix later). I also have a good deal of privacy (almost too private) because my house is enclosed in a gated area and I do not have any housemates. What is even more exciting is that my home is a stone’s throw away from the learning centre I was sent here to manage. This is a good thing because Keetmanshoop records the country’s hottest temperatures during the summer (NOW). I am warned, though, that Keetmanshoop also records the country’s coldest temperatures in the winter (my fleece and velvet blankets are waiting in the closet).

I feel very safe here; although, on one of my school visits last week, I witnessed my first fight, complete with a young boy armed with a steak knife, yes, a steak knife. Fighting with knives is reportedly a common practice around here. I am told that it is mainly around the shebeens (bars), usually at nights and on weekends, and mainly in the Tseiblaagte neighborhood (although none of those criteria were met for the fight I saw - it was at a school, during the day, in Kronlein). My impression is that the children are fairly bored; it’s a bigger town so not everyone knows everyone; there are not many social and cultural outlets; and they get into trouble because they are fairly disengaged in their schooling. Everyone seemed drawn to the commotion, probably because they are also bored and looking for excitement, however false and misguided. I was disturbed that I was one of the few adults in the masses that was actually trying to diffuse the situation and disperse the crowd. Even the security guard seemed unaware of exactly what to do, so she just did nothing.

“A child in sport is a child out of court,” read the back of a t-shirt worn by a teacher pictured with a few of his learners at this weekend’s athletics tournament. I somewhat agree. Organized sports and arts programs are constructive ways of channeling the energy, competitive spirit, and creative/expressive talents of children. I was glad to see so many competitors and spectators at the event (even though the busted bleachers made me feel like any minute I would fall through).Ooh, and I even learned a few school chants/cheers in Afrikaans. “Es lekker om de Suiderlig de vies” (It’s good to be from Suiderlig HS) (Too bad I didn’t learn how to spell it).

Keetmanshoop is some of the same and a lot of the new. Still dusty, still hot, still dependent on the sounds of birds and laughing children to alert me to the start of the day. But much bigger, more challenges, and more opportunities to make an impact. I miss the familiar and loving faces of the community I served in Khorixas, but each new experience is welcomed.

The title is an attempt to say, "My house is near the office." in Afrikaans.

The Big Packdown – Part 2

It’s pack and upack time again. On Monday, 1 February, I moved out of Khorixas, my home of the past 12 months, and I relocated to a home in Keetmanshoop, another, albeit larger, town in Namibia. As I drove out of Khorixas, I was quiet and was not able to keep back a few of the tears. The year was eventful and I have a lot of memories to hold dear and close.

Keetmanshoop is located in the south of Namibia in the region of Karas; while Khorixas is located in the Northwestern region of Kunene. The full 1000km trip, with stops and meetings, took about 13 hours. We departed Khorixas at 8:30am and arrived at my new place at 9:30pm. As such, I haven’t actually seen Keetmanshoop yet because it was dark when we arrived.

Packing was interesting. Unlike my trip TO Namibia in December 2008 and my study abroad experience in 1993/94, I CANNOT carry all of my current belongings all-by-myself (see my post on packing). I arrived in Namibia with simply a duffle bag; a large suitcase, a small suitcase, and a backpack, so about 3.5 bags. As shown in the photo, I now have at least twice that many bags and all kind of extra knick-knacks. My possessions have definitely grown over the year.

A few big items that I have now that I did not have when arriving in 2008 are:

* A Standing fan (the heat in the desert is a bit wicked)
* A Night/Reading Light (although I didn’t really use it because I was usually too lazy to turn off the overhead light AND it attracted bugs closer to me)
* a Big Blanket (it actually does get cold during the winter nights – ask my mother and my girlie, Denise)
* a Toddler Tub (yes, for me. Laugh if you like. I have no running hot water and sometimes a soak, even partial body, is necessary)
* Books and Files (textbooks, country guides, academic records, centre documents)

I also packed consumables (pasta, canned food, oatmeal, spices), cleaning supplies, insecticides, and toiletries (big Costco bottles of vitamins I’ve never used and why do I have 10 bottles of hand sanitizer?) that will relieve the bulk once they’re used up. Oh, and I also have a small suitcase entirely full of items for the Centre and schools. So that doesn’t really count either.

My packing also felt out-of-control because I have expanded my clothing wardrobe over the past 12 months – dresses, skirts, blouses, pants, shoes. I honestly do not know how I have like 30 pairs of socks. Underwear, yes, but socks? Some clothes do not fit any more (yes, a little “freshman 15” – all in the hips and thighs); others, I simply do not wear; while still others, mom sent to me from the States and I have yet to actually wear them. Accordingly, I donated a bag of clothes to the Catholic church in Khorixas and passed others on to friends of similar size. I’ll deal with my shoe-collection later.

Luckily I had a bakkie (pick-up truck) to transport me to Keetmanshoop and I was the only passenger, so I kept all the big items. I can donate the blanket, fan, light, and toddler tub before leaving Namibia. My mini-library of books and files will definitely remain with me for future reference and research.

The trip wasn’t really that bad. I learned more about Herero culture (I think I’ll do more research and write a post about various marriage rituals and customs in the country), I shared with the driving, and no one blinked at the amount of luggage I brought.

And my new home is nice. I have running hot water, which I’ll soon use to wash my hair. I’ll miss my housemate and actually having a housemate, though. I’m by myself in this house. And I’ll miss the TV, universal DVD-player, and satellite dish from Khorixas. BUT, I guess I’ll make do.

By the way, I did NOT pack the baby in the suitcase pictured in the photo.

The Gods Must Be Crazy

The ethnic group “depicted” in this 1980 cult South African movie, "The Gods Must Be Crazy" actually does still exist. The San, or Bushmen, are a nomadic people whose customs and beliefs (not necessarily those of the movie, however) have stood the test of time and colonialism. They live primarily in the deserts and farmlands of Southern Africa and are not really integrated into mainstream society. There are at least a few projects that are aimed at formally educating San children with textbooks and classes. I have to explore just how these projects work and accordingly, the impact of such interventions on their cultural heritage.

One of the more focused and enthusiastic grade 11 learners from the Centre failed to report to school at the beginning of the year. I asked the principal and a few teachers what happened to him. They explained that his mother is San and they believe that the learner could not afford the school fees (about US$120 for the entire year, including room and board) and uniform. He never approached school staff for help, though. Last year, they noticed his tattered clothing and rallied teacher support to get him a decent uniform. This year, he simply did not appear.

I was very concerned because this learner was always polite and respectful, and he appeared to be content. He was also making above-average progress in mathematics. What’s more is that he was a senior. I wanted him to not miss out on a high school diploma. We checked around over the course of the week and I found him only on the morning of my departure.

After speaking with him, he admitted that the problem was financial. I asked him to write a letter introducing himself and his goals, and articulating what he needed to make it through the year. I left him with four exercise books and a few pens. I also gave his teacher about US$25 to buy him the appropriate school uniform. He was elected to the Learners Resource Council(LRC) and needed a special shirt. The amount would be more than enough and could also buy additional undergarments and school supplies.

The costs that could make or break this child and other similar children’s opportunities are extremely minimal. I may start a tertiary school scholarship fund for at least one learner from Khorixas each year. If you would like to support this initiative, please let me know.

Whose Standards?

Namibian newspapers over the past few weeks have been filled with stories about education. There’s one theme of stories that center on overcrowded schools and enrolment dilemmas. And there’s another theme of stories around the standardized test scores results and the abysmal performances throughout the country.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, learners in grades 10 and 12 are required to pass nationally-standardized tests in order to move forward. Less than half of the learners actually make the mark. In my town of Khorixas, there are two schools with grade 10 learners. Of the cumulative 135 grade 10 learners, only 27 scored high enough to be passed to grade 11.

The computer centre can also attest to the fact that many learners are seriously struggling, at least in mathematics. Of around 400 learners in grades 5 -12 that have taken an adaptive mathematics assessment/placement test in Khorixas, 95% have scored on a grade 2 level, according to international standards. While some of the issues may relate to language and contextual challenges, an observation of the learners’ responses to some basic mathematics questions confirms that they simply do not have a firm grasp of the fundamentals.

The case for standardization is strong but when less than half the population actually meet the standard, a full and comprehensive reform is necessary. The curriculum, teacher training, teachers, school administrators, parents, regional and national Ministry leaders, and learner attitude all need attention. The upside is that Namibia as a functioning democracy-for-all is merely 20 years old (March 2010) and is developing rapidly. The school system is still an evolutionary work. It should be interesting to see how this new nation and its children are performing in the next ten(10) years.

See the Namibian Institute for Educational Development (NiED) website (www.nied.edu.na) for more information.

African Ubuntu

“The Apartheid Museum is depressing. I can’t see how people go there.” These are the words of a South African with whom I was dining last year. (I should note that from the early 1900s until 1990, Namibia was a colony of South Africa, was then called Southwest Africa, and also suffered through apartheid laws and policies.)

Just as I can in many parts of the United States of America, I note that the subject of race and discussions of segregation and racial abuse are overwhelmingly avoided in both South Africa and Namibia. I have had a few frank talks with my fellow countrymen and with locals in each of the other two countries, but by and large, in the year 2010, most people I observe (in peron or via various media outlets) find the notion of race-based discrimination fairly idiotic and not worthy of discussion. In many instances, past atrocities committed in the name of race, specifically “white” violence against “Blacks,” are so perverse and out of the realm of current imagination that many fail to believe such inhumanity ever existed at all.

We are INDIVIDUALS, part of the human race, right? This is great, logical, and shows progress in each nation; but, it is a completely opposite way of thinking for many, and flips history on its head. It also fails to produce sensitivity to the realities of the impacts of past racial oppression (educational inequities, ghettoization, disproportionate incarceration rates of certain groups, self-hate, political apathy, hatred and distrust of others, struggles for a sense of belonging, and the list goes on and on.) Without understanding and acknowledging our history, we can never truly move forward and have a real sense of togetherness.

I am glad we are thinking and acting a little more like humans with sense now; but, I must ask, How does logic all of a sudden just appear and become the new status quo of a generation? In the United States, attending a mob lynching of a Black man was once an acceptable family affair for some Southern Whites. Violence against Blacks for the crime of simply being Black was legal within the lifetime of many of us still participating in this grand life experiment. And now, everything is fine? And we should equalize white racism with black racism? In the countries I mention, Blacks never spent hundreds of years oppressing and brutally breaking the spirit of Whites in the name of Black superiority or Black domination. The reverse, however, can be said about Whites. All racism needs to end, but different forms of racism and the different roots of racism must be understood in order to effectively deal with it. Otherwise, the potential for resentment to brew is high.

I recently finished reading, “The Long Walk to Freedom,” Nelson Mandela’s autobiography. I also recently watched the movie, “In My Country,” a fictional story revolving around actual trials of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission, an entity created to help address apartheid-era crimes and suffering after the fall of apartheid. Many elements of each piece stood out at me and I took notes on more than a few occasions.

The notion of “ubuntu” was a key element of the movie and I believe of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Ubuntu can be described as an “African” ideology/philosophy that encourages compassion, forgiveness, and a sense of oneness. In the Truth and Reconciliation Commission and in the spirit of “Ubuntu,” perpetrators of crimes committed during apartheid were offered the opportunity to fully disclose the details of their actions and were made to face their victims and also hear their victims’ stories. If the crime was deemed to be “politically motivated,” the perpetrator was given full amnesty for their crimes and was “forgiven.”

The label, “African,” also stood out both in the book and in the movie. In the book, the term “African” was used by Mandela to refer to Blacks. Distinctions such as “Whites,” “Indians,” and “Coloured” were used to describe non-Blacks, seemingly regardless of their country of birth or family history. In the movie, however, a white journalist/writer in post-apartheid South Africa referred to herself as “African,” especially in pushing forward the African philosophy and seemingly propagandist agenda of Ubuntu. As “Africans,” she said, “we forgive.” It seemed a rather convenient identity to have once the tables of power had turned.

The controversy around amnesty for criminals was definitely present. At a press conference in the movie, one journalist asked that since the majority of the victims were Black, if it could be said that Blacks had a special capacity for forgiveness. After the question, another cynical journalist commented that it could rather be said that Whites had a special capacity to get away with murder.

In his book, Mandela spoke of having private meetings with government officials to discuss a peace plan while he was incarcerated in Pollsmoor Prison. He didn’t even tell his close friends and fellow leaders about his intentions. In my first opinion and admittedly without conducting much research, these meetings seem to be where the concept of Ubuntu truly gained its power and growth in contemporary South Africa.

Outside of the prison all around the country, people were upset, violence was on the rise, and justice was sought as an accompaniment to future freedom. Post-apartheid South Africa could have been extremely bloody and unpleasant for all involved, with Blacks seeking revenge, reparations, and other compensation for their inferior treatment under apartheid law. I’m just an under-informed American observing after the facts, but Mandela’s release, the exoneration of other political prisoners, and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission all seemed like strategic and necessary tools in saving lives and attempting to keep South Africa from being burned to the ground. The approach of full disclosure and accompanying amnesty, however, seemed contrived. What is even more sad is that Black-on-Black crime still seems to be a problem. Where are the compassion, forgiveness, and “ubuntu” in that?

We can and will get along, but it must be done honestly. I do hope we get to genuine understanding and interracial harmony; but, I do not want it under false pretenses or with a sense of conscious or unconscious denial. We must visit the “depressing” museums, engage in the awkward discussions, see the images that haunt the minds of our brothers and sisters, and find ways to help individuals relieve the silent deadweights and emotional burdens of our racist and torturous pasts. Schools and governments must do their part to educate. And we must continue to educate ourselves. The Long Walk to Freedom has not yet ended In any of Our Countries.

Oh, and I do believe that race is a social construct that has less to do with biology and exact science and more to do with politics. Because of how and how long notions of race have been perpetuated around the world, however, I believe that it will take quite a while to completely change our ways of thinking about it.

Why Are You Here?: 2009 in Review

My 12 months as an education volunteer for WorldTeach Namibia has definitely increased my focus on questions and challenges related to policies and contracts governing foreign investment in education. In addition to my association with WorldTeach, I regularly interact with many other foreign aid organizations, mainly through the volunteers sent to actualize their missions. My housemates during the 2009 year were members of the United Kingdom’s Voluntary Service Organization (VSO) and Nigeria’s Technical Aid Corps(TAC). In my town, there are also members of the Japan International Cooperation Agency (JICA), Peace Corps Volunteers, and VSO members from Kenya and Canada, to name a few. Based on our conversations, my observations, and my general interest, I often wonder how the organizations began their relationship with the host government, what specific mission and outcomes they have or hope to see, and why particular individuals have selected and been selected to join.

While I envision that there are different types of partnerships and missions that guide foreign-sponsored projects, I am somewhat concerned about those that do not appear to have a clear capacity-building component or structure. I have seen at least two volunteer-led projects completely stop once the volunteer departed the country. This seems a bit absurd. Yes, a few individuals benefit from the expertise or leadership that was provided by the volunteer during his/her service; but, this is a short-term fix, and I would argue that it is not a “fix” at all.

These issues appear to be product of incomplete or improperly managed policies and contracts, on the side of the host country government or the foreign sponsor, or both. I would like to explore these theories further over the next few years, hopefully through a doctoral program that can offer the appropriate tools, mentorships, and critical analysis for and of my findings/propositions. In the meantime, I am working closely with my partner organizations to train future project managers, formally document guidelines and operations manuals, and constructively dialogue about my concerns.

The above said, I decided to accept the invitation to continue volunteering in Namibia beyond my initial 12-month contract. I also decided that I will not continue “volunteering” for long; I extended my contract for only six more months. A full-time paid position with the Namibia Ministry of Education may soon be created for which I am aptly suited, however. The position would take responsibility for planning, overseeing, and evaluating computer-based learning centres focused on mathematics and science around the country. Currently, this comprehensive job is simply an additional duty for an employee with other primary duties with which the job must compete. As such, the centres are not getting the full attention they need and deserve to optimally function. It is not likely, though, the job will not likely be created before mid-year.

This week, I officially began work on my extended contract in service to the Namibia Ministry of Education. I have already “left” the “stewardship” of the Kunene Region Directorate and am now in the hands of the national office, more specifically the Directorate of Research, Science, and Technology. For the next 6 months, the national office will be responsible for my living allowance, housing, transportation, and other basic needs.

I felt the difference immediately upon my return to Namibia last week. A driver was there to meet me at the airport and shuttle me to a hotel they secured for my stay in Windhoek – meals included. And I had a direct cool and comfortable ride, not a hike or stuffy van, back to Khorixas. They still need to get their act together regarding my next assignment, though. I’ll either be in the northeastern region of Caprivi (in the town of Katima Mulilo) or in the southern region of Karas (in the town of Keetmanshoop).

In Katima Mulilo, my goal would be to help document, expand, and strengthen the current work of the centre in operation. In Keetmanshoop, my goal would be to reopen the centre, that has been closed for over six months, by marketing the centre’s potential and getting key parties to invest their time and energies in the centre’s planning and operations.

Over the next three weeks in Khorixas, I am focused on being a supportive observer, helping only when asked. I will try my best to not initiate any project-related tasks, such as developing marketing materials/letters, selecting learners, or registering learners. Not taking charge will be extremely difficult; however, I need to know that the individual assigned to run the Centre can actually do it without me. I will also refine the operations manual I authored, and I will gather and review data to evaluate the learners who were registered in the Centre in 2009.