Soccer in Swakop

The price tag read forty-seven Namibian dollars ($7 US) for a tacky South Africa soccer ball at the local Pick n’Pay. Sam gave me fifteen dollars, not half of forty-seven, and said we should get it. I didn’t feel particularly good about being sucked into paying for two thirds of the ball, especially since I would always be using it with someone at least twice as good as me at soccer. Needless to say, we got it, and it was magical.

The first test of our new ball took place immediately after the purchase. Sam and I walked down to the beach and began passing while the wind blew veraciously off the Atlantic. Our first soccer session ended with little excitement and we walked back up the streets to meet our group. As we walked a number of men would signal for the ball and we would pass it to them only to watch a few standard ball handling skills and then receive the ball back to continue our walk. We moved on with our tour of Swakopmund and soon enough we found ourselves running around, arms spread, celebrating goals we had scored on a make shift goal at an after school program Walvis Bay. The ball was already beginning to egg but it didn’t matter. The more the ball expanded into an oval, the more people it drew. After our last stop of the day, at another mine funded youth program, we started a game of keep away with a group of six or seven kids on the street. The streets on the coast of Namibia are wide and constructed with a mixture of clay, mud and dirt. We formed a large circle in the vacant street and began to pass around the man/boy in the middle. Style and skills were a must, for just passing it was far too easy, for them… I threw the ball in the air and tested my slowly improving soccer skills yet usually ended up in the middle. The young shoeless kids, maybe 11 or 12 would use all of their favorite tricks and cut quickly around the road, desperately trying not to lose the ball. The game went on for quite some time until we were called to get back in the van, only to sit there sweating as I yearned for Passat to drive faster so the wind could race through the window and erase the beads of sweat on my face. As the van pulled up to our backpackers hostel right on the water, Sam and I turned simultaneously and said “ocean.” We ran in and changed into our suits and ran down the street toward the freezing water and howling wind. Sam was a few strides ahead of me, as usual, and was in the water before I could feel the sand on my feet. Consequently I was standing there questioning if wanted to feel as cold as I could tell Sam was. That said, I jumped in and was it terrible but mostly enjoyable. People walking by looked at us like we had just figured how to get out of our straight jackets but it didn’t matter, when in Africa right… We then met a group of Namibian students who were in training to become teachers and also testing the temperature of the water on the beach. It was too cold for them and it quickly became Sam and my job to fill up their jugs full of salt water, which we were told had some special use in the rural north. And of course as our day had gone, we began playing soccer with the group. We juggled and laughed around the circle while the waves would rush up and usually wipe the ball away. You’d think we’d be “soccered-out,” as I was, but Sam still had some left and he spent the next hour juggling with the owner and a guest of our hostel. Our days in Swakopmund continued on pace with our first and in turn they were fantastic and full of new encounters and ever improving juggling skills. The power of the soccer ball and sports has struck me more than just in Swakopmund. I see it three times a week when I intern at Physically Active Youth (PAY) and I even see it in every day interactions at home and in Africa.

People often separate themselves by those teams or sports they support, yet it is only when we remove these divisions and rivalries that we find the true power of sport. Sport is universal, it is a language, it is a great insight into a culture while also being a great venue to enter one. This was never more apparent than the connection Sam had with a deaf man who supported his beloved Liverpool at our hostel. A group of us sat in front of the minuscule TV watching the red of Liverpool dash across the screen while the deaf man pointed to the patch on his shirt as Sam did the same. The two shared thumbs ups and smiles throughout the game, and although it ended undesirably, they both agreed silently, there is always next year….

Our soccer ball introduced us to probably 20 or 30 people is Swakopmund while at the same time it helps teach kids at PAY necessary life skills like honesty and how to lose. Ideally the purchase of our $7 dollar soccer ball will continue to be the catalyst of many more relationships and juggling sessions but most importantly it will hopefully even teach us a few life skills along the way.

Shebeen Scene

I apologize for not updating my blog for quite some time. I could tell you that I didn’t have good Internet or was busy but then I would be lying. After a month in Africa, which is hard to believe, Windhoek is starting to feel more comfortable and I’m actually growing quite fond of the place. It is small, yet extremely diverse and there is a lot to do. I spent ten days at an urban home-stay in Dorado Park, which is a good, not great, neighborhood in Windhoek. My little sister, Ndeshi, and I spent lots of time with each other and got a long very well. My host mother and father were gone for the entire 10 days, so Ndeshi and I essentially just made meals and watched the US Open on commercial breaks of her MTV shows. Nadal!! My older brother Victor was a wonderful guy, but was unfortunately only around for a day and half. We spent most of one day preparing for a braai (BBQ), where we enjoyed some wonderful spiced beef as well as some shrimp, which I prepared and no one had ever had before. The “prawns” were a hit. We ate the meal as we watched TV with their Oshivambo grandmother, from very rural northern Namibia, who was convinced that the people on TV could see her. Aside from her connection with the Namibian soap opera stars, she was quite disappointed that I did not speak Oshivambo and that I never brought her beer. She did although make me try her home brew of beer, which sat in a bucket in the kitchen bubbling at room temperature. Surprisingly it wasn’t terrible and was quite strong. There was a never a doubt in my mind that grandma could drink me under the table.

Victor, 23, owns a shebeen jukebox in one of the informal settlements of Katatura. He also owns his own shebeen (corrugated tin shack bar), but its doors have been locked due to a bad business partner. Most importantly, it was time to collect the money from his Juxebok, so he brought me along. We headed out in our tiny car (visualize my knees touching my chest), fully loaded with zebra print seat covers and home made cheetos on the dash. Immediately upon arrival to the shebeen and absurdly large bottle of Windhoek Larger was placed in my hand, it was cold and I had no problem with the excessive volume. Victor greeted the owner and proceeded to open the juxebox and grab the colossal amount of single Namibian dollar pieces. We took the box of change into the back room, someone’s home and bed, and counted out $874 Namibian dollars. No talking, all business, and then we left. Victor is a public prosecutor, seriously.

Classes are in full swing and are all quite interesting. That said, they are each four hours and without fail get boring towards the end. Class structure itself is very discussion based and it is rare if we don’t have at least one speaker each class. We also visit many sites and museums during class, which helps break it up.

My internship at PAY remains a source of joy and excitement. Not to mention getting out of the CGE house!! I am both enjoying and struggling through tutoring students at PAY. Most kids are eager to learn but aren’t always focused and are often more interested in joking with friends. It is not uncommon for me to have a number of students between grades 8 and 10 who cannot read. Each sports coordinator or volunteer at PAY has their own team which plays both soccer and basketball games. I am happy to report that I am undefeated as a coach and pulled out a tough victory against my rival coach Big Mike, who is the Namibian College MVP basketball player.

Today most of the group got in the van and drove out to this beautiful Lake Oanob Resort, about an hour away from Windhoek, and spent the day swimming and hanging out by the beach. No complaints…

Windhoekin'

Baboons on the side of the road were definitely not what I was envisioning when arriving in Windhoek, but sure enough there they were. The land (desert) is dry, rough and barren. Oddly enough there are a fair amount of hills and small mountains, which cause it to appear not that different from some Arizona landscapes. The town itself is quite nice and very small. In fact most of the time, it feels almost like a ghost town. That said, the nightlife is really fun and very active, yet once you leave the bar or club, you see no one. I am in a large Center for Global Education owned house in Windhoek West with 22 other students. It is very simple and safe with a great pool and lounging area in the back. We are within walking distance of the main streets and shopping center of downtown. The group feel is a bit overwhelming but something I’m sure we will all get used to it. We have no other choice. The city feels comfortable and manageable but not always safe. When it small groups it feels fine but walking alone to places seems very questionable. The people I have met here already are all incredibly nice and welcoming. I had my first day of work at Physically Active Youth (PAY), which is an amazing after-school program helping kids with academics, life skills and sports. After only one day I can tell the kids, staff and program will be a very important to me for many years to come. The kids are adorable and so eager to learn while the staff is just as eager to help and give it everything they have with very little in return. It has been inspiring at every turn. I start my 10-day urban home-stay tomorrow with a family of four. I will be staying with a them at their house in Dorado Park, not too far away from our program house. They have a 22 year old son and a 15-year-old daughter. I anxiously await my arrival and learning about everyday family life in Windhoek, and I hope to form a good relationship with my family. It is getting hot and I am still waiting to see my first Namibian cloud….