Final Words

If any of my friends could see me now, they would be laughing hysterically. Last week I was running around to kill a chicken in rural Namibia, and now I am sitting at the Johannesburg Intercontinental Hotel, starbucks coffee in one hand, a double jack daniels sitting on the table, and blackberry buzzing with new bbms on my lap. I just enjoyed watching the movie Due Date at one of the premier shopping areas in the southern hemisphere, and last week I was boiling my water to rid it of any diseases.

While I usually frown at people who come from such impoverished areas, then go straight back with ease to the over consumption and wastefulness that exists in the western world, I am different now. Of course, it is unfair that 3 billion live on less than 2 dollars a day, it is unjust that AIDS, a very preventable disease, it still rampaging millions of people, slavery is higher now than it was 200 years ago, and women are still considered second class citizens in a large area of the world. Despite this, if I were to stop my life, stop the cell phone use, stop buying, ignore friends with less-important issues than global epidemics, essentially 'go native' , my life would be pretty darn boring and unproductive.

What I have learned from this trip is that yes, i have seen people struggling for food, as america becomes the fattest nation on earth. Yes, i have seen people struggling for medicine and healthcare, as America complains about giving healthcare for everyone. But more importantly, is that yes, you can go to a nice restaurant and enjoy a nice hotel room, but you can still make a difference. Shutting myself off from society will do no good, rather engaging more in society will make the most change. So I finish this trip changed, in the part of me that has more understanding of the global community and a greater drive to help, though I am still Scott Karrel. I still like my nike dunks, my good cup of coffee, and going to nice dinners in NYC. This is a lesson that I think applies to all of us. You don't have to be Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, or Gandhi....you can be you. Do whatever you can to change the world. Starving oneself, protesting constantly, and volunteering in the developing world is ideal for some people, but for some it is not. Do what YOU can do, but Do Something. Going to fancy clubs and nice restaurants will do nothing, but going to fancy clubs and nice restaurants, AND donating a few times a year and volunteering several times at a local shelter will DO something.

Be The Change

Thank you for following my adventures, and see you all back in the states!

Cheers from Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia, Swaziland, and South Africa (the places I've been to on this trip)

Scott

PS. That being said, it will still take me a few weeks to return to 'american' culture

Change Has Come

The word ‘change’ now seems somewhat of a cliché post-2008 Obamamania election, but it is a word that I think really defines my time here in Namibia. As most of you know, I volunteered in central Swaziland in 2007, and now 3 years later I have returned and I am currently sitting in the same room that I occupied at that time in the Ezulwini Valley in the central region. I chose to revisit the Kingdom of Swaziland for my final travels because it represents the turn-around that has occurred in my life and the ultimate reason that brought me back to Africa. Swaziland taught me that yes, change can happen, but what is needed is constant determination, constant perseverance, and constant patience to see it through. In 2007, I did not possess those fundamental elements and I ended leaving this country with regret.
I chose to go to Namibia not because I was delaying my career or I was running away from life, but to try and finish what I started- making a difference. With the genuine support from friends back home, the continuous confidence boosts from family, and the will power to see something through to the end, I can finally say with great happiness that change has come to Divundu, Namibia. On Wednesday, I left the village that I now call my second home, weary eyed, haggard, and exhausted, but also joyful. My final exit took place in the brand new Divundu Combined School Library, complete with 2 brand new computers, new bookshelves, new tables, new chairs, new couches, new bulletin boards, new paint, new books, new whiteboards, new dictionaries, a new DVD player, a new fax machine, a new printer, and a new digital camera, but more importantly a new spirit. A spirit that only existed when they watched tv or saw pictures of schools in Windhoek. Change happened all over Divundu. Change happened for all the donors who now have a connection to people thousands of miles away from home. Change happened for all the possibilities that could be used with the library. Change happened with the new found hope for the school. Change happened for a local entrepreneur who will now be teaching computers at the school. Change happened to people I know back home, who never knew about Namibia, but now can name some facts. Most significant though, is that change DID happen. I left Divundu proud and honored that I could be a part of such a transformation. It was not a one-man act, it was a joint contribution scaling 2 continents.
Besides the physical change, there was one thing I hoped to achieve on a more physiological scale. Since the beginning of my stay, the color of my skin was addressed at every possible moment of the day. Whether it was people calling me Mukuwa (white man), people staring at my skin turn red in the sun, people telling me the difference between a white mentality and a black mentality, people addressing my wealth because I am white, people confiding in me that they want to be white, or people pointing out the actual physical differences between a white man and a black man. I knew I could never solve any racial prejudgments, but I thought I could try. I did my best to break every stereotype- walking into the bush where some have never interacted with a white person, eating local food whenever I had the chance to show that my stomach can handle it (even if it couldn’t later in the night), danced at the local shebeen when most white people go to their own bar and most black people go to their own bar, and learned the Thimubusku language to prove that a white man can learn a local language (many of the elders didn’t think it was actually capable for my tongue or my mouth to learn it). At my goodbye party, I went around the room reiterating that there is no difference what-so-ever between a black person and a white person. While I don’t think I convinced everyone, I do believe that a slight change happened in the mentality of some of my colleagues- that all white people are not the same or all black people are not the same.
Finally, change also happened for me. My friends and family know that I went into this experience nervous, reluctant, and scared that I would regret going for six months. I leave now more confident than ever that I made the greatest decision I have ever made. I left Namibia, attached to a small community of wonderful people for the rest of my life and the clear accomplishments that were made.

I will finish this with my favorite quote and a quote that we painted in the new library:

“You must be the change you wish to see in the world”

Cheers,

Scott

My African Adventure

On Tuesday, I perhaps had one of the craziest moments of my life, so sit back and enjoy this story. My friend Justine, a volunteer about 350km away from me, was headed to Livingstone, Zambia to pick up her mom and Aunt from America, so she decided to break up her trip and stay in Divundu one night and enjoy the area. She was able to get a hitchihike from Rundu with a German lady traveling around Namibia. When she arrived at the petrol station in my village, Justine informed me that the German lady was going to Buffalo Game Park and invited us to go with her. Buffalo Game Park is a game park about 25km from me, that has elephants, zebra, hyenas, hippos, etc., however it is poorly developed. It lacks proper road care, maintenance crews, signs, not many visitors, and even overnight park rangers. As we entered the park, I made sure the German lady was aware that I had to be back in 2 hours to work on some things at school. Immediately we saw hippos in the nearby Kavango River, kudi, springbok, snakes, and loads of fresh of elephant poop. An hour into the trip, the German lady made a turn with the car into the bush to try and see if we could spot this elephant.

With 4 wheel drive, we drove over high sand, big water puddles, and deep vegetation. About 15 minutes into this journey, we approached a large puddle (more like a mini pond) of water. Four wheel drive was activated and we made it over. Despite this, another situation loomed ahead. This time didn’t go so well. Mid way through the deep water, the car just stopped. At this moment, the border fence to Botswana lay on our right, the main road of the park was 20 km away, and there was no cell phone service. The one rule of a Game Park is to not get out of the car, but of course this has to be broken in order to get us out. Justine and I got out and for 1 hour pushed, pulled, shook, and lifted the car. With night approaching, we all were thinking the same thing in our head- no one knows where we are and we had to prepare to stay the night. I decided to do a very dumb thing, walk around until I found service. I walked 10 minutes into the bush and was able to get one bar and managed to reach my good friend James in Divundu, and said, “its scott, stuck in buffalo game park near Botswana border, send help!” Walking back, I saw a huge snake and smelled fresh elephant poop. I quickly ran, determined to get out of here. Justine and I pushed, pulled, lifted, and shook the car and finally it budged. We hopped in the car and set out for the entrance. Not even 2 minutes later, the car splashed right into an even larger pool of mud! By now, I am tired and only wearing my boxers as my shirt and shorts were covered in mud. I got out again and pushed. Justine looked for sticks to we can create some traction for the wheels.

Suddenly though, I heard voices. They were coming from over the border fence in Botswana. I ran and screamed, and as I listened closer I realized they were speaking Mbukushu. “Wiye Popa No- come here now” I said. There were a bunch of cattle herders who were astonished that I could speak Mbukushu and offered to help. They climbed over the border fence into Namibia and helped us to no avail, and after 45 minutes headed back. The car was stuck in 2 feet mud, and to make matters worse it was dark and raining (again- the worst thing to do is be outside). We got in the car and prepared to sleep. About two hours later, we saw the headlights of a pick up truck and my friend James sitting in the front. Thank God! He had been searching everywhere. They brought chains to move the car out, but after 30 minutes we concluded that the car was so deep in the mud we would need a bigger car and more force to get it out. Justine and I assumed the three of us (the german lady, Justine, and I) would just go back tonight and then the German lady would come back tomorrow with a crew to get her car out. Seems logical as there are poachers, elephants, lions and James said there was a herd of hyenas not far from us. But the German lady refused, she would not leave her car. It was now 10 pm and although we were begging her to come, she kept refusing. We left her there, 20 km deep in the bush, no cellphone or anything. Justine and I made it back to Divundu, scraped, cut up, muddy, and with barley and clothes by 11 pm, just lucky to be safe. An experience I will never forget and even a person I will never forget. If it wasn’t for my friend James, things would be very different.

OOooo Namibia!

Peace,

Scott

Update: I called the police about the German lady that night, but they did nothing, and didn’t seem to care. We hired a crew of a few men and bigger car to go and get her and by 9 am the next morning, she was back safe in Divundu