twelve days, africa style.

Twelve Elis Stomping
Eleven Giraffes Grazing
Ten Kudus Leaping
Nine Donkeys Braying
Eight Goats-a-Bleating
Seven Hippos Charging
Six Roosters Crowing
FIVE CROCODILES
Four Guinea Fowl
Three Boomslangs
Two Go Aways
and a Peacock in a Palm Tree...

...........................................................................................

Update on ze white elephant gift exchange..
Guess who has two thumbs and is the proud owner of a rather sharp and dangerous six inch hunting blade? And who already cut herself... Mother is SHARP. 

not now, arctic puffin...

First Christmas in Namibia.

We PCVs are simulating home with miniature fake pine trees, holiday crafts, extensive holiday playlists, outrageously expensive holiday dinners (for PCVs, that is), and white elephant gift exchanges… and gingerfizz.  

Here’s a puffin. Enjoy..

Now playing...  
12 Days of Christmas - Straight No Chaser | Christmas Cheers

You know the one... Doo do do doo doo do doo...

playing now..

11 songs | 49 minutes; 17 seconds

Paid in Full/Mini Madness – Eric B & Rakim
Mr. Brown: Biddy Bi-Bi Remix Turkmene/Pharao Version – DJ Rupture
Obstacles/Music Monks – DJ Rupture
The Rain (Supa Dupa Fly) – Missy Elliot
Rushing – Moby
At the River – Groove Armada
6 Underground – Sneaker Pimps
Solea – Miles Davis & Gil Evans
On My Way to Nowhere – Spyritual
Wolves – Dead Prez
Get By – Talib Kweli

But what’s usually on repeat in the morning as I ready for school…
4 songs | 16 minutes; 40 seconds

Higher – K-os
Erotic City – George Clinton & Parliament Funkadelic
Get By – Talib Kweli
Life is Better – Q-Tip ft. Norah Jones 

i'm a sucker...

... for the sky during sunsets.

I live on the west side of the house..
And right as the light starts to fade, I burst out to the back yard..
To see what she's got in store for me that night.

Even better when you are in the hills of Grootfontein; with the expanse of bush below and open sky for days.

Or sitting atop the hills overlooking the Kavango River, and the Angolan border in Rundu..

No, offense, Montana...
You've got some game and all...
But this here – this is 'big sky country'

summer reading list...

(because it is summer in this hemisphere )

books consumed:

Dambisa Moyo – Dead Aid

Neil Gaiman – Stardust

D. H. Lawrence – Lady Chatterley’s Lover

Helen Fielding – Bridget Jones Diary

Agatha Christie – The Murder of Roger Ackroyd

David Wong – John Dies at the End

in progress:

Jack Kerouac – The Dharma Bums

on deck:

Neil Gaiman – The Graveyard Book

George Orwell – Animal Farm

Douglas Adams – So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish

Richard Dawkins – The Greatest Show on Earth

Dante – The Divine Comedy

Phillip K. Dick – Ubik

Christopher Hitchens – The Portable Atheist

Douglas Adams – Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency

Edgar Allen Poe – Collection of Tales and Poems

William Goldman – The Princess Bride

Fodor Dostoevsky – The Idiot

Daniel Defoe – Moll Flanders

Gustave Flaubert – Madame Bovary

Niccolo Machiavelli – The Prince

drunk tree (fall hard)

Woke up in the witching hour with the imprint of house keys on my cheek.

Parched, famished and roasting – I tripped over to the freezer to retrieve a pre-frozen Nalgene. 

And on the stumble back, a gorgeous assortment of takeout meets me. A true rarity in the bush. Feta and bacon pizza w/ onion rings; a bottle of chili sauce. I'm rich.

Dawn breaks and I assess the level of dust on my person..

Testing my limbs, taking in a few choice bruises.

In possession of a pernicious hangover.

Opted to forgo pain relievers; I think this one I deserve.

Evidence of an evening well spent.

And punishment for the drunk texts shot off to the south last night.

a snake in my boot.

Stayed up late tonight, and as I went to turn off the light... I see that I've startled something in the garage... and am witness to a small, but significant, snake slither under my door. My bedroom door.

Locating it behind the jerry cans in my room, I hover at the doorway.
It looks like a mamba. Worse, it's a young one, with less control of venom release during a bite..
But, I'm not sure, so I reach over and grab the identification book on snakes and reptiles.
Hmm. It's definitely venomous. But is the mamba, or the boomslang?
One kills you in an hour or so... One kills you in a day... [1] 

I eyed my bed longingly.
Maybe if I tucked in my net really, really well... I could just go back to sleep.

I sat down in on the sofa in the living room, working on my nerve, before waking up the ladies of the house. There are enough poisonous snakes in this country that I needn’t be stupidly heroic and sleep alongside one.

I woke up my host sister first. She questioningly yells "Snake?!" after I'm forced to repeat the tale twice (as she's sleepy and confused.)  My hawk-eared host mother needs no repetition of the story, as her door burst open, and she repeats "A snake? There's a snake?! Where?!"  [2] 

I lead them over to my room, but they're a good five metres from the door.
Making me feel a little foolish, as I've been pretty close to the snake, eyeing it from the door, maybe a metre and a half away... I also had walked past it once, to turn off the music on my pc.

Once they realized I was serious. Guys, there really is a snake in my bedroom... The two women jumped into action, in the opposite direction, and spirited seven young boys from a neighboring house, conscripting them into a snake killing posse.

Armed with sticks, they shrieked from my doorway - too scared to enter - and jostled the jerry cans from as far as they could manage. The chaos persuaded the snake to slither back into the garage. The boys went running 'round to the other garage door and corner the little reptile and beat its brains out. Screaming the whole time.

All while my host mother was loudly praying/cursing.
Once dead, they paraded it out of the house, draped over a stick. Teasing my host mother a little and pretending to drop it on the floor. Elevating her yelps to shrieks.
Eleven year old conquering heroes, you would think, by the sight of them; so confident they were after the fact. [3]

And now I am uneasily abed… bracing myself for the next invasion.

This evening’s latest disturbance may be karmic retribution for murdering yet another giant spider this afternoon. It had a 6+ inch leg span. I just want to be left in peace some days, creepy crawlies.

[1] Now, considering how timid the snake was, when encountering seven boys with sticks.. And little old me.. I think it was a boomslang, and not a mamba..
[2] No one is fond of snakes less than my host mother, Julia. Last year a python made its way up a drainpipe and into a window two metres off the ground. Julia heard the thud as it fell through the window and turns around to see a giant snake settling onto the floor. She was not a fan..
 [3] Rather wish I had taken a photo after the fact.. but at the time... I had other things on my mind..

[Edit: My mom really hates snakes. Two days later, kick panels were installed on all of the exterior doors to narrow the gaps along the door jams.. We're snake proof -- or at least we're slightly more confident about being snake-free.. For now.]

remember, remember…

And here I was having just an okay day…

Reading a stolen copy of The Book Thief and sobbed uncontrollably for a bit.. 

So, hmm... that was great, actually. (Like, really great. Will read again.)

But then the best news... 

My once-adopted state became lucky number fifteen and passed marriage equality legislation in both houses on November 5^th (and is off to Governor Quinn for his John Hancock).

So I am drinking celebratory wine (a couple days later) in a tiny village in Kavango. 

And am tearing up all over again...

Wish I could've been there with everyone celebrating in Springfield – or Chicago... 

I heard there was champagne flowing in the office... About damn time!

So proud of the amazing work of the ACLU of Illinois, along with the rest of the Illinois Unites for Marriage Coalition, and of course the legislators who finally made it happen...

Love is love is love is love. 

the ridiculous.

I’d argue that the trivial and the absurd are the best things life has going for it right now.

Of course… one does love the significant, the sentimental, the warm and fuzzies…

But those don’t happen on an everyday basis.

Not when your new home is eight thousand miles, and across an ocean, from your last one.

More likely you encounter the frustrating, the confusing, and the downright aggravating.

Thank goodness for the absurd.

I like to channel the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Minus the bowler hat, suit jacket, and striped slacks.

Now that would look ridiculous.

Am currently listening to The Reminder (Feist, 2007), downing a bowl of Rice Krispies, lazily perusing palm reading diagrams (more on that later).

Life isn't all bad.

total eclipse of the sun.

When the mooon is in the second ha-ouse.. and Ju-pi-ter aliiiiiigns with… something.(1)

11 August 1999 – my first, and thus far only time in proximity for a total eclipse.  

In Brussels with my mother, a human who tends toward hysterics – and believes everyone else to be a moron.. Insisting we abscond to the subway, so that we would not burn our retinas. Missing the concept of totality for a total eclipse, and that special glasses were readily available, and being sold throughout the city.. But do we buy a couple pairs? Nope. Just hysterics and running. You'd believe she expected the Blitz. 

Fourteen years and some change later. 

A hybrid solar eclipse decides to waltz across Equatorial Africa. 

Here I am living just north of the Tropic of Capricorn(2) and juusssst too far south on the continent to see a full solar eclipse…

I concede to some bitterness. 

⁽¹⁾ Likely amongst the least strange among Cotton's medleys for *Fantacular* ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’ (Bonnie Tyler) to ‘Aquarius/Let the Sun Shine In’ (The 5^th Dimension). iykyk..

(2) And now I’m thinking of library fees.

le cock block.

Today’s discovery: MTC automatically disconnects after you spend an hour on the phone..

A bit presumptuous, I think.. 

What gives, o’dubious mobile provider of mine? I’ve got tango to burn. 

An aside. Automatically spelt behaviour with a ‘u’ …

Maybe it won’t be so hard to teach the King’s English after all.

British English at the very least. Namlish at best…

charlotte's web, this isn't..

Despite my attempts to be humane with the creepy crawlies with whom I share my room...
I bring sad tidings of the untimely demise of  the giant spider formerly residing with me.
The bloody idiot resisted my relocation efforts.
And as a mere mortal, I fear I could not get past her tearing along my walls at such a fevered pace.
It tends to unnerve... and draw one's eye..
Hard to focus and all that nonsense.

The poor soul met her end on the business end of a blue plastic cup.
I expect full retribution from her family at some point...

my day; a list...

Curse the existence of flies during morning walk to work.

Arrive five minutes late to morning staff meeting.

Find out it’s a three day weekend this week (Yippee).

Stare at scheme of work, willing brain to come up with effective teaching aid ideas.

Scribble notes for a couple of hours into journal.

Discover the 7 year age gap in my future 5^th grade class (Ouch).

Inadvertently instigate a draw-off between my HOD and (probably) future Rukwangali Tutor.

Get in a circular conversation about poverty in America versus Namibia w/ Namibian colleagues.

Remind them, again, I have never met the UK Volunteer who preceded me in the village. (If J. Butler is referred to as my colleague – as opposed to theirs – again, I may kick someone).

Carry home 40+ HIV/AIDS posters to the amusement of school secretary.

Grill up Hawaiian veggies and eggs.. Mmm.

Make mistake of spending time (ages) with eight year old host sister to get her to distinguish the difference in pronunciation of ‘heart’ and ‘hot’ (Success!).

Read two fluff crime novels.

Listen to a little jazz piano…

Nap.

Skip through a couple of episodes of Sherlock… Benedict Cumberbatch. ‘Nuff said.

Unroll yoga mat.

Attempt yoga [sober] for the first time in month.

Blast music..

Decide I needed to add a little wine into the mix.

Receive 20 distractions in form of texts.

Give up on yoga.

Do a little paperwork… (Little being the operative word)..

Gaze longingly at brand new shiny journal that I am not allowing myself to write in until I’ve finished the one I’m working on now.

Stash said temptation under a pile in my room.

Stare at the corner peeking out from under the pile.

Accidentally rip my mosquito net out of ceiling in effort to reposition new moleskine out of sight.

Teeter precariously on plastic chair to re-attach hook holding net into ceiling.

Get bitten by two mosquitos in the interim.

Re-reading this, it occurs to me that I may be becoming a bit cracked.  

Or it’s just Monday.