I don’t know what’s up with USPS but they keep sending my letters and beautiful presents to Bermuda. It’s killing me. Waiting those extra months for Valentine’s Day cards and Christmas candies. It’s so cruel
But enough about my first-world woes. I just hit ONE YEAR! That’s one year of sand storms, cricket invasions and strange holiday decorations. You know you’ve been here that long when:
- Sunblock is the new lotion.
- Lotion is the new make-up.
- Chocolate and cookies actually solves problems.
- Fast food become the warp and woof of high cuisine. I could kill for a Domino’s pizza.
- Frozen water bottles are your new bedmates.
- You speak of self testicular cancer exams with great ease.
- You can knowledgeably answer questions revolving around said exams.
- Saturday is exciting because that’s when you wash your hair.
- Men in flower-strewn hats is a normal sight.
- And realizing you’re the only person in the commissary wearing shoes is okay.
Aight, I’m off to work on a few things. If anyone has any great ideas for picture codes on pregnancy, hit me up. I’m creating a book to explain healthy pregnancy using photos that will start up conversations (like a pregnant woman drinking alcohol). It’ll be a great tool to use with memes waiting around to see the nurse and will give them some additional health education. I’m a poor artist but we’ll see what messages we can get across!
Peace, hugs and all the bunny stuff!
Today I weighted some mamas. Literally. I wanted to make some newly pregnant ladies question my existence and so I offered to help with the intake at the ANC clinic. I helped take down histories and basic stats while a nurse stuck ’em with needles. Blood splashed everywhere thanks to some enthusiastic veins so I hollered my questions from across the room. My Afrikaans is still sorely lacking. And numbers seem to be an easy concept to grasp (especially since I have all the personal ‘n medical “lady issues” down). But phone numbers…ugh. 🙂
But after wandering through the clinic for awhile and scaring small children (apparently my face isn’t as relaxing and joyful as we’ve thought) I jived over to a local school for my 8/9th grade boys’ and girls’ club. And…nada. Classrooms filled with people making up studies. Like GED and summer school rolled into one happy bundle, shoved into airless rooms and stomped into the hottest hours of the afternoon. But my counterpart and life skills teacher are awesome individuals and willing to push buttons and make it happen next week. We can easily hold sessions outside as long as there’s shade. One thing I’ve learned in Namibia is to keep trying cuz results take time. And to always accept cool drink when it’s offered.
You never know when the Cola Factory will explode and people will be rushing to the streets in revolt against life without soda. Serious as in serious.
Also, you meet the coolest of people in the strangest of places.
Okay, short post for the week…month…quarter? I’m all out of photos and have unfortunately lost possession of my camera. So updates are gonna be text from here on out!
Peace out, Home Dawgs (and others who didn’t go to Amazing U of Washington).