From DEEP

June 15th, 2009

DEEP, as I’ve said before, is located in an informal settlement called Oneshila. The people at DEEP work out of a container that stores the bikes and tools, but they do most of the repairs outside under the shade of a makeshift roof. When I go to work, I sit with them outside, and I’m able to see a lot of the goings on in the community. For instance, I can see the shebeen located just across the lane from DEEP, I can see women walking by with loads of grains and shopping items balanced on their heads, I can also see little kids on their way back from school. These sights I expected to see, but I wasn’t expecting to witness anything as heartbreaking, infuriating and upsetting as the boy that lives across the lane.

On my first day at DEEP, I sat with the group and watched them work on bikes that customers had dropped off in the morning. I was making small talk with Lavinia, who I’ve really grown fond of in the past week. We talked about where we’re from and what our families are like. While I chatted with Lavinia I looked around the neighborhood and started to familiarize myself with the area. I saw this cute little girl in a pink dress with a little boy sitting outside of a small house made of sheet metal. They were playing nicely, and seemed to just be playing together with some rocks. I couldn’t help but smile looking at them; they would have made a pretty adorable picture.

An hour or so later, still gazing around the neighborhood, I saw the little girl standing at the house, pushing with all her might against the closed door. At first she was just pressing against the door, but soon she began to cry, then wail, then scream. Normally the DEEP employees don’t really take notice to the kids in the neighborhood. The kids run around the group as they work on bikes, but there isn’t too much interaction between them, aside from the times when Michael or Moses will ask one of the kids to bring them a tool or rag just out of their reach. On this particular day, however, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at the little girl as she pressed herself against the door while crying.

I sat watching the girl feeling like it wouldn’t be appropriate for me, on my first day in the neighborhood, to run over to a strangers house to let the girl into her house. What if she wasn’t allowed in at that time, or what if her mother wanted her outside for some reason? I decided to stay where I was, but I kept glancing around the surrounding area, looking for her mother, but I didn’t see anyone. About 15 minutes later, the DEEP employees back to work, I sat with Lavinia and watched the little girl struggle with the door. We saw a woman walk out of the adjacent shebeen and bring the girl a cup of something and let her drink out of it. I heard Lavinia beside me “tsk tsk-ing.” I turned to her and she said, “She shouldn’t be giving that to a child, it’s not good for her.” I ask Lavinia what was in the cup and she said, “ It’s a kind of alcohol.”

The little girl couldn’t have been older than two. She was barely walking, and still this woman gave her alcohol. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I knew from Lavinia’s statement that my feelings towards the situation weren’t an over reaction. Children should never be given alcohol. I consider what I saw to be a form of child abuse and a violation of the child’s human rights.

I was allowed to go home at around 12 because I didn’t really have any work to do. When I got home, the girls asked me how my day was, and when I tried to explain to them what I saw, I just burst into tears. I was furious, just so angry with the woman from the shebeen. The girls really sympathized with my reaction and because of that I felt justified for feeling the way I felt and empowered to do something about it.

During the next day or so, I watched the little girl and the boy play in the grass. On Wednesday, the little boy made his way onto DEEP property and kept glancing over at me. Lavinia explained that last year’s intern, Rukshan, used to play with the boy all the time. I could definitely see why. He was absolutely adorable, and really curious about the bikes, especially the wheels. I played with him for about half an hour before Lavinia told me he was deaf. I had noticed there was something different about him, but I hadn’t suspected that he was unable to hear.

For the rest of the week the little boy, Napenda, would waltz over to me from his house bringing with him an array of broken toys he handed over to me for repair. Even though there was no real way for us to communicate with words, we exchanged a lot of funny faces, stuck our tongues at each other, and played together with the toys he brought over.

On Thursday, Lavinia and I took the 15-minute walk to Telecom to inquire about Internet for DEEP. On our walk, I brought up the subject of Napenda. I asked her how old he was, “Five.” I asked her whether he went to school or not, “ No.” I asked her if he knew any sign language, and she said, “No.”

At Napenda’s age, he should be in Kindergarten. He should have begun in January. But he didn’t. The little girl’s mother is Napenda’s aunt. She cares for him, while his mother works and lives 8 hours away in Walvis Bay. Lavinia told me that Napenda is receiving a government grant that is supposed to help support him due to his disability. The grant should be used to fund his schooling at the nearby school for the deaf and blind. But since he’s not in school, his aunt is just taking the money. Lavinia also told me that last year, Rukshan bought Napenda clothes and toys, which his aunt took away from him and gave to her children. I’m sure Rukshan felt the same way I feel about the situation, because she spoke with the aunt and asked her directly why Napenda wasn’t in school, and begged her to enroll him in Eluwa, the school for the blind and deaf. When that didn’t work, employees at DEEP spoke with the director of DEEP and asked her to speak with the aunt, which she did, to no avail.

Everyday, Napenda walks over to DEEP, and we play together. He likes to point at things and pretend to talk. He just moves his mouth, without making noise. It’s heartbreaking, because he’s so young and obviously really wants to learn about the things around him, but with no way to communicate with his family, he can’t.

The kids in the neighborhood stay away from him. They also make fun of him. Napenda makes a sort of squeaking noise when he plays. Sometimes he makes the noise when he’s excited, or happy, and sometimes he makes it when he’s sad or angry. When kids see him, they sometimes imitate him. Of course Napenda can’t hear the noise their making, but I’m pretty sure he can figure out that their not being nice to him. Today I saw two women walking down the lane, and when one of them saw Napenda she made a loud squeaking noise. Napenda had his back to the woman, but I saw her do it, and I couldn’t help but glare at her. It’s one thing for children to bully a child with a disability, often it’s because they don’t really understand the disability, but it’s quite another for grown adults to openly ridicule a young boy who can’t stand up for himself.

Because none of the kids seem fond of Napenda, the only interaction he has with them are generally violent outbursts. When he does witness some of the kids imitating him or making fun of him, he just slaps them, or throws things at them. I’ve seen this happen many times. One time, after retaliating against a young boy, Napenda ran to me and hugged one of my legs. He wanted to hide from the boy, but I think he also wanted to be comforted.

Since that incident, Napenda will come to DEEP and just recline on my legs, or climb onto my lap. He doesn’t sit facing me, which I find interesting. Instead he faces away from me, and plays alone with a toy, or a stick, or a bicycle part. I get the feeling that he does this because he just likes the comfort of being next to some one. I think it’s kind of like cuddling for him. I don’t know how often he gets this kind of affection from his aunt, or other adult family members, but judging from the speed at which he grew so close to me, I feel like it can’t be that often.

Today, with Napenda on my lap, I looked over at the lady that serves the DEEP employees their lunch. She gets a kick out of me because I don’t buy my lunch from her, and she thinks it’s got something to do with me being scared of meat. She always laughs when I turn down lunch, and the speaks Oshiwambo to the DEEP employees and they look over at me and ask, “Do you eat chicken in Canada?” or “Do you eat dog in your country?” But today, she didn’t ask me if I wanted lunch, she asked me how I could stand to have Napenda sit on my lap when he smelled so bad. I couldn’t turn Napenda down today because he seemed so eager to sit with me. I was sitting on a tall table in the container that houses the bicycles and administrative files. Napenda could barely reach up to my knees, but he tried pulling himself up onto my lap anyway. I pulled him up onto my lap and he sat with me playing with a broken ball.

The lunch lady is right. Napenda does not smell good. His clothes are dirty, he smells like he hasn’t been bathed in a long time, and he’s always got food on his chin and cheeks. Even the amazingly tolerant and accepting people at DEEP keep their distance from Napenda for this reason. I can’t help but let Napenda sit on my lap, because I feel like that’s all I can really give him. I don’t feel comfortable giving him clothing and toys, because I know what will happen to them. I won’t give him money for the same reason. All I can do for him is repair his toys, or let him sit on my lap. When he points at things and pretends to talk, I nod at him because I want him to feel like someone is listening to him, even though he’s not talking.

It’s hard to watch the way Napenda is being treated, like his cousin he’s being abused. The fact that he doesn’t know any language, the fact that he can’t communicate beyond pointing at things and making facial expressions, means that his quality of life is unacceptably low. Not only does he not go to school, get enough to eat, or have a loving family environment, but also he has no real friends beyond his young cousin. I can’t help but imagine what his life will be like if this situation doesn’t change, that’s why I feel strongly about doing something for him. I’ve spoken with the girls and Richard and we’ve talked over some possible options. Michelle has said she’s going to set up a meeting with a social worker; Alison wants to meet with the principal at Eluwa. Judging from the past, I don’t expect his aunt is going to do anything positive for him in the near future, and that’s why I want to do something for him that will hopefully improve his situation. If he goes to Eluwa, he’ll be around people who understand him and care for him. He’ll also learn to sign language and be able to communicate with his friends and teachers. I feel like with all the resources at our fingertips, we can help Napenda. I can’t leave Namibia without doing something for him that will make him happier and healthier, and I really feel like school is what will do it for him.

I want to do this so that the intern at DEEP next year doesn’t have to experience the same frustration that I feel when Napenda visits me at DEEP. I’d rather the next intern see just how great a community can be towards people with disabilities. When customers walk by DEEP they shout out greetings to the employees, and there is a really remarkable sense of understanding and friendliness between DEEP and the neighborhood. Hopefully Napenda will soon be included in this atmosphere of open-mindedness. And hopefully, the intern next year will be able to witness this when he or she sits with the employees of DEEP and looks on as the community goes about their day-to-day activities.


[check the last post, I added two at the same time!]

Ruacana and Angola

June 13th 2009

On Saturday we went to Ruacana Falls. Paulina, a director at UNAM, offered to take us when we met her the week before last, so, we decided that this Saturday would be the best time to go visit the Falls and the hydro power plant.

It took 2 hours by car to get to the falls. Alison and I sat in the back of the van and listened to Harry Potter on audio book on her ipod. (And, yes, I am the coolest 20 year old you’ve ever met.) We arrived at the power station at around 11am and signed in at the front desk. Sadly, cameras are not aloud at the station, so I’ve got no pictures of it, which sucks because it was really, really cool. It looks like a really old school, science fiction-y, underground laboratory.

We walked down a paved road that led us directly to the mountain. Then, there was a huge tunnel drilled into the side of the mountain, which we entered. We walked down the tunnel to an underground atrium that housed lots of fancy machines, water tanks, pipes and dials. As we followed the tour guide I couldn’t help but feel like I was in an Austin Powers movie. When we turned the corner into a large hallway, I half expected to see a group of men, holding guns and wearing full-body uniforms, moving together in a slow jog.

The guide led us to what I can assume was a sort of control panel that overlooked the large atrium. Once I had a look around I could help but chuckle to myself because it all looked kind of fake. There was this main wall that had all these dials and scales on it, and there were painted-on arrows connecting all of them together. Even uncle Richard noticed this when he said, “sort of looks like the Nuclear Power Plant that Homer works at, huh?” And it did.

Unfortunately, there were three South Africans that were part of our tour group, and they proceeded to ask the tour guide and other employees all sorts questions that outlined their expertise in the field of hydropower. While they hovered over the guide and a computer learning about all the complex physics/engineering involved in hydropower, the girls and I practiced balancing water bottles on our heads. After practically mastering the skill, the SA’s finally finished their intellectual discussion with the guide, and he led us to another part of the plant. We got to see all the water flowing in from the dam into this under- mountain cavern and back out through a tunnel in the wall. Although this was a pretty cool part of the tour, after 15 minutes in the really loud and smelly crevasse, the girls and I started to get pretty antsy to get out of there. BUT NO, the SA’s decided that moving water was way too interesting, and moved from one part of the railing, to another, trying to get a better view of the moving water. Alison and I started to play the “guess what I’m drawing on your back” game, until FINALLY, the SA’s decided the tour could recommence.


The tour guide brought us back out of the mountainside tunnel and we got back into the van. We drove to the nearby river and had lunch. I dropped half of my sandwich in the sand and had to fill up on mini-apples instead, which wasn’t a good idea considering I was about to climb 500 steps and needed all the calories I could get.

After lunch we made our way to the Ruacana falls. Because it’s dry season here, there wasn’t a lot of water running from the dam to the plant, but we got to descend into the valley and scamper around on the rocks. Scampering, I just learned, is when you traipse around on rocks and boulders. It’s hard to describe with words, but Annie, Sol, Alison, Michelle and I all scampered down from the little cliff of rocks to the pools of water. It was super cool, and definitely not something I’m used to or good at. I couldn’t get all the way down because my runners have no traction, but meters from where I was perched on a rock the rest of the girls saw a bright blue freshwater crab. Apparently, Ruacana falls is the only place on earth that has fresh water crabs, and I almost saw one! Woo hoo!

After scampering back to Paulina, her husband and Richard. We made our way to an abandoned power station that was attacked during independence, (1990’s) which overlooks the falls. I got some amazing shots of the place, which is pretty haunting.

Next, we walked up the 500+ steps back to the van. It took about 15 minutes, but it was pretty horrible. I think I told Alison, who was right behind me, that I hated hiking about 10 times. Once I got to the top, though, I was pretty impressed with myself. Me, who is very unfit, and barely exercises, didn’t faint/puke/die during the hike up!! Impressed? Me too.

After about 10 minutes of recuperation, we got back in the van and stopped right at the Angolan/Namibian border. We were allowed to walk into Angola and visit the local neighborhood, which was really cool. You can pass the border without a passport as long as you stay within 60 km, or something like that, which is why we were able to casually cross the border by foot. We stumbled upon a shebeen and saw this beautiful Himba woman dressed in traditional clothing. I felt a bit uncomfortable about taking pictures of her, but the others took some amazing pictures, which I don’t feel too uncomfortable admiring. We stayed there for about 15 minutes, and crossed back into Namibia, making it the world’s fastest trip to Angola.

The car ride home was beautiful because we got to see northern Namibia during sunset, which I haven’t been able to see yet. Everything is really quite at dusk, which is real contrast from the hustle and bustle of Oshakati during the day. Just by looking out of the window I could really appreciate the Namibian landscape, trees and animals. Namibia really is a beautiful country!

The car ride home was also beautiful because Alison and I finished the Harry Potter audio book. What an amazing series.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Long time no blog. A lot has happened since the last time I posted but I haven’t been able to get to an Internet café for about a week.

Here’s some of things I’ve done:

The U of T interns and I visited the University of Namibia (UNAM) and met two women who run the HIV/AIDS unit at UNAM. Skolastika Iipinge is a former nurse turned HIV/AIDS professor who works at the university to help educate students about the virus. Dr. Iipinge along with Dr. Kavena run a program called ZAMANAWE (ZAmbia, MAlawi, NAmibia, WEstern Cape) that the universities at each location employ to educate students about HIV/AIDS. They get about 30 student volunteers to work as peer educators at their respective universities. About ten or fifteen students came to an orientation for us at UNAM and presented their stories, a short play and a musical performance. They’re pretty amazing people, and almost all of them have been affected in some way by HIV/AIDS. One of the girls’ stories was really powerful and I got a little teary eyed while she described parts of her life to us. The presentation/orientation and UNAM was really great. It worked as a kind of orientation for the UofT students and I to get to know Namibia, and more specifically the kinds of things that university aged men and women have to face here. Of all the orientations I’ve ever had to sit through in my life, this one has by far been the most engaging, interesting, moving and, without trying to sound pretentious, actually inspiring.

Solome, Annie, Alison, Michelle and I are all going to be working in the north, but the rest of the Interns will be working in Windhoek. So for the most part, the northerners spent most of the days in Windhoek tagging along as each Windhoek-intern went to his/her placement. There are six Windhoek interns and they’re all paired together and working at three different organizations. The first is called Physically Active Youth (PAY), which is an after school program for orphans and vulnerable children (OVC’s). The kids come to PAY each weekday and spend 2 hours on homework with a group of educated young adults who tutor them. Then they spend the next 2 hours playing sports with the same group of adults. I’ve met two of the PAY employees: Harry and Patrick and they are so enthusiastic about the program. The energy they bring to the program is amazing and the kids really seem to love them. Meghan and Sarah have been placed there and have so far really enjoyed their work.

Vincent and Jonathan are working at an ARV clinic. They are both pharmacy student and are really excited about their placement. In their first week of work they’ve actually gone and delivered ARVs to people outside of the city. Jonathan told Alison that one of the recipients of the medications was a four-year old boy. Needless say, their work, and the rest of the interns’ work, is going to be really tough.

The last Windhoek placement is at ICW (International community of Women?) It’s an organization for HIV-positive women in Namibia. Ciann and Alisha will be working their and they’re going to be doing something along the lines of working with the support groups and supporting the organization as they attempt to get more funding and more programs running for women in the community.

After everyone got placed in Windhoek, we had a group dinner and invited Patrick and Harry (and Harry’s wife and ADORABLE baby) along with us. The following morning the northerners (me included) took the 9-hour drive up to Oshakati. The drive was long, but it was pretty fun to look out the window and see goats crossing the “highway” and vultures in some of the trees and cows chillaxing on the gravel shoulder.

Our compound in the north is really nice. There’s a one floor building that houses 4 bedrooms, each of which has a door that opens to outside. There’s a small courtyard on one side of the building, and an electric fence on the other. Across from the courtyard there’s an open structure that houses a small kitchen and a dining room. We spend most of our time here. It’s nice in the afternoon because you’re under the shade and you can stay cool, but you’re still outside. I’m really enjoying the outdoorsy aspect of this trip

There are five bedrooms. I'm sharing a bedroom with Alison. She's my age and we get along really well. I haven't ever really shared a room with anyone before, but so far it's working out well. Probably because we both like to watch Arrested Development or 30 rock before bed.

On our second day in Oshakati the group was invited to the police station where the commissioner of the entire Oshana region (which is like a province) came to welcome us to the area and to give us a run down of the safety situation in the area. He was accompanied by five other officers and they all seemed really interested in us, considering we're a bunch of Canadians coming to work FOR FREE!! Note to parents: There have been no safety issues for interns in the past.

There are a total of 4 placements in Oshakati. Annie and Solome are sharing a placement at the Multipurpose Centre which is like a community centre. They are working with OVCs and are having a really good time. Michelle is working at the hospital in the malnourishment ward with orphaned infants. Interestingly, most of the children have family, but they are placed there because the parent may not be able to feed the child, or the mother may not be alive. After 6 months, though, the parents have to come pick the children up. Alison is working with an AMAZING woman who teaches dance to children in the area. Some are students at the school for the blind and deaf and some are OVCs. So far I've joined Alison about 3 times to help with the classes. It's really fun to learn African dance. It's definitely out of my comfort level. The kids are brilliant and there are even some really young toddlers who come to the classes with their older siblings. And, although they can't actually perform any of the dance moves, they just stay with the group and bop along to the music. It is probably one of the cutest things to witness. Dance and babies are a perfect combination.

My internship is really interesting. It's located in an informal settlement that is one of the most impoverished in the area. It's been a challenge for me to feel completely comfortable in the area, but that's something I'm working on. The six DEEP employees that I'm working with are really nice to me. Moses and Lavinia speak English the best, so we've really connected so far. I'm working on getting to know the other four, but it's hard because they mostly speak Oshiwambo. The group has been teaching me how to speak Oshiwambo but I'm finding it really confusing. You have to say "Walalapo meme/tate" and then the other person says "Nawa" and then there's this back and forth dialogue that I really can't understand. But to return the favour I've begun teaching them some french words. So, in the morning I greet them in Oshiwambo and they greet me in French.

My main tasks this summer are going to be to write a constitution for DEEP and to write up profiles for each of the employees. I think it will be a great opportunity to learn about how disability has affected the group's lives and how they are able to access their rights as disabled citizens. I'm still learning the day to day routine at DEEP, which involves running errands and helping them out with some administrative tasks. It turns out that even though I can't fix any bicycles, I can provide them with some help when it comes to writing emails, sending faxes, taking inventory and other things like that.

I'm excited to see how this internship pans out and what kind of things I learn while working at DEEP. I'm also really excited to learn from the other girls and to help out with the dance classes.

I think this may be the most boring post ever but I'm sure I'll have some more interesting things to say soon.

In the mean time, here are some interesting Namibian facts:

1. In Namibia, they drive on the other side of the road.

2. Taxi drivers listen to soft christian rock.

3. I'm getting a tan

I can't seem to load any pictures for some reason, I'll try again soon.