I began my stay in Divundu, simply known as the Mukuwa of the town. I am the only white man for miles and miles, and everyone that I met was always awe-struck that I lived here. However, in the past few weeks, a change has slowly been occurring, mukuwa is fading from their vocabulary, and it is being replaced with Mr. Scott, Sir, Teacher, Mitiri (teacher in Mbukushu), or Thiyemo (the Mbuskushu name some of the people around town call me). Without intention, I noticed that I know a great amount of names of the people around town, have started to greet everyone in the local language, I walk into the village without hesitation, I am waving to people on the street, my phone book is filling up, and now I am starting to dress different. Each day, I carry a little book around with me, and I have my friends and learners write down a few phrases in Mbukushu and translate it to English. Since I can barely make half the sounds, it usually take me 10 tries to enunciate the word correctly, but once I get it right, I try to study it each night.
To continue this process, I decided that I would integrate myself more into the community. Last Friday, I went for my Friday night beer at the shebeen (bar) and I was telling the other people there that I have never been to a Namibian wedding. Well, in pure Namibian fashion, they told me they were all going to a wedding in the morning and that I could definitely go too. In a matter of 5 minutes I had an invite to a wedding and the wedding pictures, in which I had no idea who the couple were, where it was being held, or who was attending. But, of course I said I would go! Therefore, the next day, with some of the information in hand, I went to the private picture taking at the local waterfall, then hitched a ride with the wedding procession to the reception. Being the only white person there definitely made me stand out…a lot…but the bride and groom loved that I was there. With a few drinks inside, I said what the heck, and began dancing. Soon everyone there was staring at me dance to the song Waka Waka, taking pictures with the bride and groom, and greeting the women in their traditional outfits. Once the wedding was over I was absolutely exhausted, but it was definitely amazing to crash a Namibian wedding.
On Sunday, I woke up early to go to church with some of my learners. Namibia is over 90% Christian, so trying to explain that I am Jewish doesn’t really go well with them. So after much pleading and begging, I promised them that I would go to church. I met 20 learners at the school and we began our 5k trek to the catholic church in the next town. Once there, I realized that the service would not be done in English, it would be done in Mbuskuhu. But, I guess it really didn’t matter to me anyway. The service was filled with lots of singing, women in traditional outfits, and dancing. Although there was a language barrier that separated us, I loved hearing the different songs and seeing the people genuinely happy (except I wish there were bagels and lox like at temple ha). After church, the learners took me into their village to show me their houses and have a much-needed lunch with some of the families.
As I await the arrival of my parents next week, I am already eager to see more aspects of the local tradition and lifestyle. I have promises from everyone that they will teach me how to milk a cow, kill a coat, ride on a donkey cart, see a witch doctor, paddle on a slim canoe, and live in the village for a week. I have an exciting few months ahead of me, and can’t wait to share it with all of you
Hope everyone is enjoying the end of the summer!
Miss you all.
Scott
