Summer

Etosha Park

1Aug

by Kelsey Smith

Our time in Etosha Park included seeing 3 out of the “Big 5”, a Sunday morning traffic jam of Elephants, my newfound love for Giraffes, and more Springbok than the number of bad jokes that have been told on this trip. On second thought, disregard that last comment. We have experienced a lot of extraordinary things, but there is a line between extraordinary and impossible that we can only get so close to crossing.

Before coming to Namibia I had imagined seeing many of the stereotypical animals that are so commonly associated with Africa. Those thoughts, however, seemed to come and go quickly because I don’t think I honestly expected to see the wildlife that we experienced at Etosha. Seeing each type of animal took us on a continuous roller coaster of excitement that began early Friday morning and continued until we headed for Ogongo on Sunday.

Each animal offered a unique sight because of the beautiful details in their size, shape, color, and movement. Seeing a little Jackal became a familiar sight, especially for our friend Trotter who took to its cute pet-like characteristics and tried to feed it a dinner roll. A less familiar sight that our bus driver Dennis enjoys seeing most of all each time he brings a group to Etosha was the Rhino. We were fortunate enough to see its historical and ancient movements that showed both strength and grace at a watering hole one night.

Zebras were not in short supply. The details in each Zebra’s appearance begin with definitive black stripes that perfectly shape around each one’s face and continue in the same matter throughout the rest of its body. We were also lucky enough to see one male Lion laying under the sun, which created a golden shimmer on its mane.

Before coming to Namibia I was not familiar with some of the animals that we have seen during our time here. Names like “Kudu” and “Gemsbok” were of another language to me, and their appearances seemed even more foreign. Sights of mule and white-tailed deer that are common to us in Texas don’t offer much comparison to the long spiraled horns of a Kudu or the size of its vaguely striped body. Each time we see a Gemsbok it never grows old to look at its beautiful black and white detailed face and straight, spear-like horns.

One of the most amazing sights at Etosha, and maybe even for the entire trip, were 12 powerful, yet gentle Elephants that silently walked up while we were observing a watering hole. The baby of their herd energetically followed its mother around with an unconditional excitement for life. Other Elephants whipped their trunks back to throw clouds dirt on wet skin under the warm sunshine. Each member of the herd enjoyed independently playing in the water and quenching its thirst, but the reliance they had on each other showed as they fluently moved together to and from the watering hole.

Last, but definitely not least, was the Giraffe. I’m sure each person in the bus could tell you about my overreaction when we saw them drinking at a watering hole for the first time. I have seen Giraffes before, but it wasn’t until I saw the awkward splits they have to do when bending down to get a drink of water that I fell in love. I don’t know what it is, but my heart now melts when I see this beauty of a stretch animal with a long and lanky physique that leads up to big, beautiful eyes. Maybe it spurs from my appreciation of being able to relate to another creature that looks extremely awkward when they run. I don’t know. Whatever the case, my next mission is to find a plane big enough to get my next pet back to College Station, TX so that I can introduce my dog to her new brother or sister.

Destination Safari

17Jul

By Kelsey Smith

After 3 flights that took us between 3 continents, 36 hours of traveling, and an accumulation of maybe 5 or 6 hours of sleep, we finally arrived at our destination at the Neudamm Campus of the University of Namibia. I have to say, getting there was probably the least stressful experience within the past week, mostly thanks to the people I will be surrounded with all day everyday for the next month. Bad jokes alongside the excitement that our adventure has finally begun continue to allow contageous smiles and laughter spread between each precious face of our newfound family. Preparing to leave the country and enter into an area that I did not have much knowledge about turned out to be the most challenging part this far. Taking care of things around the house, saying goodbye to friends and family, 2 a.m. trips to the Wal-Mart , poor packing skills, meeting for class and writing papers all seemed to creep up on me at the same time within about 72 hours of leaving the U.S. Getting to the airport, checking in, and going through security felt as if more than the 45 pounds that was my suitcase had been lifted off of my shoulders. I could begin to relax, get to know 6 of my 8 new family members better, and give my mom and brother one last call before boarding our first 10-hour flight.
The people that work for British Airways made the experience much more comfortable with their hospitality and to my excitement, REALLY cool British accents. It never got old hearing my sweet flight attendant repeatedly calling his passengers “love” while graciously serving us. When I began playing around with the touch screen that sits in the back of the headrest I was pleasantly surprised to find popular movies and TV shows along with a map that allowed us to track our flight’s location around the world. Sleeping on the plane was another story. Each time I would fall asleep it wasn’t long before I woke up to find that gravity had taken its toll yet again, bringing my head down in a position that my neck did not agree with. The airport in London was amazing. It felt as if we were in an enormous building that can’t decide whether it wants to be a mall or an airport. Our next flight to Johannesburg, South Africa was about the same, but it was a little bit easier to sleep because of how much we were overdue from the previous flight. Finally, the short flight from Johannesburg to Windhoek did each and every one of us in. At one point we were all passed out in unison, not affected by the shaking of the plane during taking off and landing, and sadly not even affected by eating (one of us… a.k.a. Tobin… literally fell asleep between each bite of food).
We reached Windhoek, Namibia to find the rest of our group. One unfortunately was told that her luggage had been lost (which has still not been discovered after more than 72 hours). This was one of those moments that Dr. Wingenbach’s advice to “pack our flexibilty” came into play. We loaded a bus, and took a short drive to the campus we would call home for the next 5 days. As I looked around I already felt at home with the scenery resembling the panhandle of Texas, or the countryside of New Mexico. The people that welcomed us to the campus are nicer and more accommodating than we could have asked for. Our meal that night was prepared by the cooks that continue to so graciously feed us breakfast, lunch, and dinner in the most selfless way.

We had the privilege of sitting in on a meeting with some of the University’s Directors, Deans, and other faculty members. They showed us a glimpse into the agriculture programs at their school and talked about how much progress they have made and continue to make at the University of Namibia. A few of their members attended Texas A&M during graduate studies, so we all loved hearing and relating to stories about their time in Aggieland.
After only 24 hours we already have so much gratitude because of the gracious people here at the Neudamm campus. They continue to go out of their way to selflessly serve, teach, laugh, and provide us with more than we expected. We will never be able to repay them, but I pray that our time, conversations, smiles, and laughter will express to them how much we appreciate their hard work.

My Gift

15Jun

by Josh Hardcastle

We wanted a cold coke (and I use “coke” as the Texan term for “soda”). That’s all we wanted, and, after being stuffed full of corn tamales for lunch, Dr. Moore, Julie, Poleth and I wobbled our way to a tienda to purchase a few.

Once at the tienda (the best one in Chajul I might add), I promptly purchased a Pepsi – they didn’t have actual Coke, which is my preferred drink – for five quetzals ($0.65) and did an about-face to exit the store.

As I did so, my eyes met his. His age was all of three. His pants were ripped, and he was covered in dirt.

He held out his hand wanting money – money which I could not give him, for I had agreed not to give to panhandlers in Chajul.

“No,” I said sadly. “I can’t.”

Our group walked away, and he began to follow us.

“Great, he’s not going to give up,” I thought. I wanted so badly to give him something, and then I looked around.

I saw poverty all around me.

I noticed the sheds in which the Chajulense people live.

It suddenly occurred to me that everyone here is in poverty, yet this was the first time someone has asked me for money.

Why is this?

People here are malnourished, work for next to nothing and live in buildings that we in America would considered “condemned;” yet, when we “gringos” have walked down the street, none of them have asked us for money.

Instead, they have greeted us with barrages of “hola” and “buenos dias.”

I realized there was a reason I was asked not to give to just one person. Everyone here needs help – help for which they don’t ask.

Though they are what I would consider “immensely impoverished,” they have a dignity about them that inspires me.

My realization didn’t make it easier to walk away from the boy, but I knew that enabling his begging would, in effect, change the dignity of Chajul. Instead of “holas” being given to passing gringos, pleas for money would fall upon their ears.

Eventually, the boy left, but the his image remains engrained in my head.

I still want to give to him, but I cannot give him money; I cannot corrupt the dignity of Chajul.

Instead, I shall give back in another way: service.

It has been said, “Give a man a fish, and he’ll eat for a day. Teach him to fish, and he’ll eat for a lifetime.”

Giving the boy money would not have helped him. I am confident in that. From this day on, though, I make it my vow to help him and the people of Chajul lead better, healthier lives.

This service is a gift of love and respect of their dignity. Giving money would corrupt that dignity, so, instead, I give my service.

I give myself.