Mukuwa! Mukuwa!

After my two weeks of orientation, I finally made it to my village of Divundu. On Tuesday, a Ministry of Education vehicle picked up me and the other semester volunteer at 8 am and we set out for our VERY long journey. We would first travel to Rundu, the major’ city in the Kavango region, then part ways. I am 2 hours to the west of Rundu and she is 1 hour to the east of Rundu. The ride up was….barren. Once we were 10k outside the capital, the scenery was desert, then mountains, then desert again. At Rundu, I hopped in a new car and headed towards Divundu in the darkness. I knew I was leaving civilization when we were forced to go very slow due to cattle, donkeys, goats, and dogs crossing the road.
At my village it was nearly impossible to see anything. I was brought to my house by one of the teachers. I am living in a teachers house right behind the school. It is a cement house with a bathroom, a ‘kitchen’ (no refrigerator or stove- just hotplates), and three bedrooms. Two other female teachers and the niece of one with 2 children occupy the two other bedrooms. My room is small box with a locker in it.
Wednesday was the ‘Day for the African Child’, which honors the rights granted to all children. The students had off that day but they performed traditional dances and gave speeches. We were told that the Minister of Education would come and give a speech to our school, so we waited…and waited…and waited (in the blazing sun!). Yet, he did not show up. After school, one of the teachers invited me over for dinner and to show me around the village. The school, which I will be teaching at, is a combined school, in which it has grades 1-10 and the students live at the school. The village is on the Okavango River, a beautiful river dividing Angola and Namibia, and has hippos and crocs. The town has a petrol station and a market, and spread out huts, where the people live. 90% of the population here are subsistence farmers.
On Thursday, I woke up early to travel into Rundu to get my tax id number so I would be able to get paid. Getting into Rundu is a bit of adventure as the only way to get there is by hitch hiking. While this may seem like suicide in the states, it is extremely normal here as it is the only real mode of transport in the rural areas. Therefore, I put my hand up and hitchhiked in car with 4 other people inside. On the way home, I did the same thing, kinda cool and I will definitely be meeting some interesting characters through it. At night, the power went out in the village, so I was stuck using my flashlight and trying to fill out paperwork at the same time.
On Friday and Saturday I attended a big cultural competition at the local Youth Center. 15 schools from the nearby area all came to showcase their traditional dancing. The first day I thought I could walk there, and 6k later, I was burnt and exhausted. My learners (students), all acted out traditional stories and performed dances in costume. It was great! I also got to meet a peace corp volunteer who has been working there for 1.5 years. Good to see another American nearby!
As for the name of this entry, Mukuwa. The people in my village speak a language called Mbukushu. In that language mukuwa means white man. Since it is VERY rare for a white person to be in the village, whenever I walk by people will whisper mukuwa, or kids will scream it. Not offensively, just out of curiosity, and ha because it is true, I am the only white person for miles.
The principal is out on leave till Monday, so I will not begin teaching till Tuesday but it looks like I will be teaching 5-7th grader Social Studies, and upper level English.

Miss all of you.

-The Mukuwa of Divundu